Nos. 1 and 2. In earlier writings the name was
applied very loosely to almost any creeping or climbing plant. In an
Anglo-Saxon Vocabulary of the eleventh century it is applied to the Wild
Clematis ("Viticella--Weoden-binde"); while in Archbishop AElfric's
"Vocabulary" of the tenth century it is applied to the Hedera nigra,
which may be either the Common or the Ground Ivy ("Hedera
nigra--Wude-binde"); and in the Herbarium and Leechdom books of the
twelfth century it is applied to the Capparis or Caper-plant, by which,
however (as Mr. Cockayne considers), the Convolvulus Sepium is meant.
After Shakespeare's time again the words began to be used confusedly.
Milton does not seem to have been very clear in the matter. In "Paradise
Lost" he makes our first parents "wind the Woodbine round this arbour"
(perhaps he had Shakespeare's arbour in his mind); and in "Comus" he
tells us of--

"A bank
With ivy-canopied, and interwove
With flaunting Honeysuckle."[126:2]

While in "Lycidas" he tells of--

"The Musk Rose and the well-attired Woodbine."

And we can scarcely suppose that he would apply two such contrary
epithets as "flaunting" and "well-attired" to the same plant. And now
the name, as of old, is used with great uncertainty, and I have heard it
applied to many plants, and especially to the small sweet-scented
Clematis (_C. flammula_).

But with the Honeysuckle there is no such difficulty. The name is an old
one, and in its earliest use was no doubt indifferently applied to many
sweet-scented flowers (the Primrose amongst them); but it was soon
attached exclusively to our own sweet Honeysuckle of the woods and
hedges. We have two native species (Lonicera periclymenum and L.
xylosteum), and there are about eighty exotic species, but none of them
sweeter or prettier than our own, which, besides its fragrant flowers,
has pretty, fleshy, red fruit.

The Honeysuckle has ever been the emblem of firm and fast affection--as
it climbs round any tree or bush, that is near it, not only clinging to
it faster than Ivy, but keeping its hold so tight as to leave its mark
in deep furrows on the tree that has supported it. The old writers are
fond of alluding to this. Bullein in "The Book of Simples," 1562, says
very prettily, "Oh, how swete and pleasant is Wood-binde, in woodes or
arbours, after a tender, soft rain: and how friendly doe this herbe, if
I maie so name it, imbrace the bodies, a