lties thrown in the way of any quiet private student by existing
nomenclature may be best illustrated by my simply stating what happens to
myself in endeavouring to use the page above facsimile'd. Not knowing how
far St. Bruno's Lily might be connected with my own pet one, and not having
any sufficient book on Swiss botany, I take down Loudon's Encyclopaedia of
Plants, (a most useful book, as far as any book in the present state of the
science _can_ be useful,) and find, under the head of Anthericum, the Savoy
Lily indeed, but only the {8} following general information:--"809.
Anthericum. A name applied by the Greeks to the stem of the asphodel, and
not misapplied to this set of plants, which in some sort resemble the
asphodel. Plants with fleshy leaves, and spikes of bright _yellow_ flowers,
easily cultivated if kept dry."

Hunting further, I find again my Savoy lily called a spider-plant, under
the article Hemerocallis, and the only information which the book gives me
under Hemerocallis, is that it means 'beautiful day' lily; and then, "This
is an ornamental genus of the easiest culture. The species are remarkable
among border flowers for their fine _orange_, _yellow_, or _blue_ flowers.
The Hemerocallis coerulea has been considered a distinct genus by Mr.
Salisbury, and called Saussurea." As I correct this sheet for press,
however, I find that the Hemerocallis is now to be called 'Funkia,' "in
honour of Mr. Funk, a Prussian apothecary."

All this while, meantime, I have a suspicion that my pet Savoy Lily is not,
in existing classification, an Anthericum, nor a Hemerocallis, but a
Lilium. It is, in fact, simply a Turk's cap which doesn't curl up. But on
trying 'Lilium' in Loudon, I find no mention whatever of any wild branched
white lily.

I then try the next word in my specimen page of Curtis; but there is no
'Phalangium' at all in Loudon's index. And now I have neither time nor mind
for more search, but will give, in due place, such account as I can {9} of
my own dwarf branched lily, which I shall call St. Bruno's, as well as this
Liliastrum--no offence to the saint, I hope. For it grows very gloriously
on the limestones of Savoy, presumably, therefore, at the Grande
Chartreuse; though I did not notice it there, and made a very unmonkish use
of it when I gathered it last:--There was a pretty young English lady at
the table-d'hote, in the Hotel du Mont Blanc at St. Martin's,[3] and I
wanted to get speech of her, and