526 BOTANICAL LETTERS FROM ARGYLESHIRE. \_Ma'l/, 



— the last waving like golden feathers in the clefts of the rocks, 

 which are crowned by the Anthyllis Vulneraria. I had hardly- 

 noted down those plants, when our attention was arrested by an 

 immense number of wild pigeons issuing from some caves to our 

 right, where our companion informed us they were in hundreds, 

 bringing out their young in the caves and fissures of the rocks. 

 They were chiefly of a beautiful silver-grey, neck and breast of 

 some white, others with a white ring round the neck, and the 

 rest of the body of a dark slate-colour. Farmers complain that 

 they do them great injury, but they do not consider the service 

 those beautiful birds render them. 



After many kind invitations from our friend to accompany 

 him to his beautifully-situated retired cottage about a mile dis- 

 tant, which time prevented our accepting, we took our respec- 

 tive ways homewards. We had still three miles before us. 



We had now reached the public highway, and my companion, 

 who was first, had got over the fence, when he was saluted by 

 a little thin-visaged, elderly man, dressed in what is commonly 

 termed shabby black. From the glance I had of him, I observed 

 the expressions of the face rather peculiar, partaking of a sort 

 of sober, serious, sombre cast, and I thought he might be an iti- 

 nerant preacher, or perhaps a schoolmaster in some remote" up- 

 land district, on his way homewards from town. I had just got 

 over the fance, and had a few specimens carrying in my hand, 

 not having a vasculum with me, and having stood for a moment, 

 he looked round, addressing himself to me, " I understand you 

 are a botanist." I replied that I wished I was more worthy of 

 the name. " I see you have got some wild flowers," he further 

 remarked; '*^ they are very beautiful, but not to be compared to 

 the flower of renown. What I dislike of you naturalists and 

 men of science," said he, " is that you are not so careful as you 

 ought to be, allowing yourselves to be too much engrossed by 

 the allurements and fascinations of science, too often placing it 

 in the place of revealed religion." I acknowledge I was rather 

 surprised at this onslaught against men of science, and was nigh 

 being tempted to resent ; however, I merely answered by say- 

 ing, " You are aware, I presume, that it is one of the injunctions 

 of our Saviour to consider the Lilies of the field, how they grow ; 

 and I must say that in my own experience the greatest error I 

 find is in the fact that the theologian and naturalist have stood 



