34 



tion of the poet Thomson in his "Seasons," for Summer to display itself in 

 "a shower of roses," has not been made in vain this year ; though to see them 

 "witlier and die" with unusual celerity has been the consequence of the 

 exceptional high temperature which lias ruli d supreme almost without a single 

 refreshing shower, the sad experience both of the botanist in the field, and the 

 rose cultivator in the garden. But on this occasion the route taken by the 

 united Clubs, chiefly for physical geological examination, was peculiarly unfa- 

 vourable to botanical hunting. The flowery vales were left behind, and barren 

 uplands in long and wearisome extent were trod, not rising high enough for 

 alpine beauty, and not even in their sterile wretchedness showing an inviting 

 bog, where the Sun-dew or a waving tuft of silken Eriophorvm might hope to 

 rest and adorn the waste. Nothing appeared upon the arid moor but stunted 

 Scirpi and withered grasses, or the stiff and wiiy Jiuicus squarrosus. It was 

 truly depressing to botanical zeal to tread these dry rusky wastes, and the only 

 relief to this dreary sameness of vegetation was a slight scattering of the lowly 

 milk-white flowers of Galium saxatile here and there ; or where a miserable hedge 

 did make an effort to maintain existence, a dwarf solitary Bosa villosa gladdened 

 the eye with its deep-red petals. 



Collecting in a cluster on a high portion of this broad-topped hill, they 

 all stretched themselves on the tufts of bog-sedge and whortleberry, to listen to 

 the addi-ess; and whilst some followed the lecturer closely on the large map 

 brought by Mr. Adams, others opened papers with more perishable contents. 



--X5^g!7§ 



