"Fourteen princes of the family of Plantagenet have sate on the throne of England for upwards of three hundred years, and yet very few of our countrymen have known either the reason of that appellation or the etymology of it: but history tells us that Geoffry, Count of Anjou, acquired the surname of Plantagenet from the incident of his wearing a sprig of Broom on his helmet on a day of battle. This Geoffry was second husband to Matilda, or Maud, Empress of Germany, and daughter of Henry I. of England, and from this Plantagenet family were descended all our Edwards and Henries."

Skinner assigns a different origin to this illustrious name. He tells us that "the house of Anjou derived the name of Plantagenet from a prince thereof, who, having killed his brother to enjoy his principality, afterwards repented, and made a voyage to the Holy Land to expiate his crime, scourging himself every night with a rod made of the plant Genet, Genista, Broom." And we are told elsewhere that he was nicknamed Plan. tagenet from the use which he had made of the Broom.

There are three varieties of Broom, with yellow,

white, and purple flowers. The first is the most

common.

Their graves o' sweet myrtle let foreign lands reckon,
Where bright beaming summers exalt the perfume;
Far dearer to me yon lone glen o' green breckan,
Wi' the burn stealing under the lang yellow Broom.

BURNS.

The wilding Broom as sweet, which gracefully
Flings its long tresses, waving in yellow beauty.

The purple heath and golden Broom,
Which scent the passing gale.

MONTGOMERY.

LANDON.

The Broom and the furze are perpetually associated. Indeed, the latter is sometimes called by botanists Genista Spinosa-the thorny Broom, and provincially whin, or gorse. It grows abundantly on all our wastes: and it is recorded of Linneus that, when he visited England in 1736, he was so much delighted with the golden blossom of the furze, which he then saw for the first time on a common near London, that he fell on his knees, enraptured at the sight. He conveyed some of the plants to Sweden, but complained that he could never preserve it in the garden during the winter.

ROSE.

LOVE.

WHO that ever could sing has not sung the Rose! The poets have not exaggerated its beauty, or completed its panegyric. They have called it daughter of heaven, ornament of the earth, glory of spring: but what expressions could ever do justice to the charms of this beautiful flower! Look at it gracefully rising from its elegant foliage, surrounded by its numerous buds: you would say that this queen of flowers sports with the air which fans her; that she decorates herself with the dew-drops which impearl her; that she smilingly meets the sunny rays which expand her bosom. Nature seems to have exhausted all her skill in the freshness, the beauty of form, the fragrance, the delicate colour, and the gracefulness, which she has bestowed upon the Rose. And then, it embellishes the whole earth; it is the commonest