52 REVIEWS. 



upon us. I do love these wild flowers of the year's spring. And on we stroll — 

 almost palled with sweets, and almost weary with loitering — so that it is felt to be 

 a relief, when a sylvan dean, that opens aside on our path, tempts us to trace its 

 unknown intricacies and retreats. It is a dean without a name, hut sunny and 

 odorous, and silent. Here the brae glows with whin and budding broom — there 

 copsed with grey willows and alders, and every wild shrub and trailer ; here a 

 gentle bank with its sward pastured by a lamb or two and their dams that have 

 strayed from the field above ; while opposite, a rough quarry contrasts, yet not 

 disturbs, the solitude, for the prickly briars and weeds, that partially conceal the 

 defect, tell us that it has been some time unworked. Now a sloe-brake gives 

 shelter to every little bird which is seen flitting out from its shelter stealthily, 

 and stealthily returning; and the lark sings and soars above; and the black- 

 bird alarms the dean with its hurried chuckle. And as we near the top, we 

 find a grove of elms, and poplars, and willows, which hang partly over a little 

 shallow linn, formed by a rill that has fallen in a gentle stream over a moss-grown 

 shelf of rock ; and then the water steals, more than half-hidden, down the 

 grassy bed of the dean. The quietness of the place begins to influence us all — the 

 conversation assumes a subdued tone, and some are evidently meditative, when the 

 current which the thoughts of some young dreamer amongst us has taken, is marked 

 out visibly by the question that is asked — ' What is the blewart of Hogg?' No 

 one — nor old, nor young — has thought the question abrupt or out of place, but we 

 enter upon it, as if the scene had suggested it, and made our young friend its spokes- 

 man. ' What is the blewart in Hogg's beautiful pastoral ?' ' Why the blewart 

 must be the same as the blaver or blawort — the Centaurea cyanus.' ' Nay, that 

 cannot be ; the Centaurea is a corn-field weed, an autumnal flower, nor is it a 

 sleeper at eventide. Let us hear the verse : — 



' When the blewart bears a pearl, 



And the daisy turns a pea, 

 And the bonuie lucken-gowan 



Has fauldit up her ee, 

 Then the lavrook frae the blue lift, 



Draps down, and thinks nae shame 

 To woo his bonnie lassie 



When the kye comes hame.' 



1 Very well, my good fellow, the blewart grows there at your feet, and its first 

 blossoms are giving blue eyes to that sunny hillock. The blewart is the Veronica 

 chamcedrys ; its blossom is the pearl, when at eve the flower has closed, and turned 

 upon us the pale glaucous underside of its petals ; it is the companion of the daisy 

 and lucken-gowan ; it is the ornament of the dean without a name.' After a 

 little more light discussion, the demonstration appears complete ; and we feel that 

 there is more interest, and as much utility, in settling the nomenclature of our pas- 

 toral bards as that of old herbalists and dry-as-dust botanists. 



"I have here attempted to sketch, slightly, a meeting of 'our Club' and 

 one of its rendezvous, and to indicate the nature of the discoveries and discussions 

 with which we beguile the morning walk ; but I feel that the attempt is weak 

 and ineffective. Yet on my return from such a meeting, the conviction has 

 often been forced upon me that the poet was right when he said — 



1 And he is oft the wisest man 

 Who is not wise at all.'" 



We had marked many similar passages, intending to transfer them to 

 our pages, but want of space prevents us. We will now merely direct 

 attention to the " Sketch of the Fossil Flora, of the Mountain Limestone 

 Formation, of the Eastern Borders," which is from the able pen of Mr. G. 

 Tate, the present President of the Berwickshire Naturalists' Club, and without 

 which the present volume would be far from complete. Though the fossil 



