the treacherous white moss
under whose pale trailing masses their verdure gradually succumbs, leaving
them, like huge hoary ghosts, perfect mountains of parasitical vegetation,
which, strangely enough, appears only to hang upon and swing from their
boughs without adhering to them. The mixture of these streams of
grey-white filaments with the dark foliage is extremely beautiful as long
as the leaves of the tree survive in sufficient masses to produce the rich
contrast of colour; but when the moss has literally conquered the whole
tree, and after stripping its huge limbs bare, clothed them with its own
wan masses, they always looked to me like so many gigantic Druid ghosts,
with flowing robes and beards, and locks all of one ghastly grey, and I
would not have broken a twig off them for the world, lest a sad voice,
like that which reproached Dante, should have moaned out of it to me,

Non hai tu spirto di pietade alcuno?

A beautiful mass of various woodland skirted the edge of the stream, and
mingled in its foliage every shade of green, from the pale stiff spikes
and fans of the dwarf palmetto to the dark canopy of the magnificent
ilex--bowers and brakes of the loveliest wildness, where one dare not
tread three steps for fear--what a tantalisation! it is like some wicked
enchantment.

* * * * *

Dearest E----. I have found growing along the edge of the dreary enclosure
where the slaves are buried such a lovely wild flower; it is a little like
the euphrasia or eye-bright of the English meadows; but grows quite close
to the turf, almost into it, and consists of clusters of tiny white
flowers that look as if they were made of the finest porcelain; I took up
a root of it yesterday, with a sort of vague idea that I could transplant
it to the north--though I cannot say that I should care to transplant
anything thither that could renew to me the associations of this
place--not even the delicious wild flowers, if I could.

The woods here are full of wild plum-trees, the delicate white blossoms of
which twinkle among the evergreen copses, and besides illuminating them
with a faint starlight, suggest to my mind a possible liqueur like kirsch,
which I should think could quite as well be extracted from wild plums as
wild cherries, and the trees are so numerous that there ought to be quite
a harvest from them. You may, and, doubtless, have seen palmetto plants in
northern green and hot houses,