The Scottish Naturalist. 27 



Thae chaps had come a hun'er mile 



For what was hardly worth the while ; 



'Twas a' tae pu' 



Some gerse that grew 



On Ben Muic Dhu 



That ne'er a coo 



Wad care tae pit her moo' till. " 



The favourite joke of the rabble now is, lt What's the price 

 of candles ? " mistaking the vasculum for a candle box. 



It is a trite saying that things change ; and a change has 

 come over men's thoughts in regard to science. When men can- 

 not open their eyes without seeing what science has done for 

 the world, they cease to sneer at students. 



But it is not from an utilitarian point of view that I wish to 

 consider this subject now. I wish chiefly to dwell on the in- 

 tensely interesting nature of the pursuit, and its reflex effect on 

 ourselves. And here I would advert to the beneficial effect 

 that any hobby of this kind must have on people engaged in 

 daily monotonous toil, giving them something to think of 

 besides pounds shillings and pence, and educating the spirit of 

 poetry in every one's heart, save the most debased. This 

 applies with great force to botany. Then it has this advantage 

 as a hobby — that it is a cheap one. Many other sciences 

 require expensive apparatus, but this one, after you have spent 

 a few preliminary shillings, need not cost you anything more 

 for years. 



The science of botany brings one in contact with the most 

 beautiful objects in existence, and men (save in cities, — for 

 there, as Arthur Helps says, they will rather rush to see a re- 

 presentation of beauty than beauty itself), have always admired 

 and loved the graceful objects which add such a charm to 

 scenery, and without w T hich scenery would be nothing. 



** The young read nature like the manuscript of heaven, 

 And call the flowers its poetry." 



Our old songs and poems are full of this love of nature, 

 which was perhaps more intense in days gone by. Over and 

 over again the old ballad-makers tell us, — 



" Oh it was so merry under the greenwood tree." 



Our poetic literature is full of the names of columbine and 

 celandine, asphodel, anemone, pimpernel, and rue ; and one 



