THEIR FITNESS TO THE NATURALIST. 2] 



me on to illustrate and declare the riches of my native county*. — 

 " Trahit sua quemque voluptas." I felt that in following out 

 my plan to register every tree and grass and weed therein, — to 

 know every insect, worm, fish, reptile, bird and beast that were 

 its denizens, — I could not fail, at the same time, to discover its 

 many pastoral, — ^its many sylvan, — its many landscape beauties 

 which lie hid amidst its hills and denes, and hard by its waters. 

 And there was the additional attraction of visiting spots which 

 have been made for ever eloquent by the events of which they 

 are the monuments, for the district is indeed rife with places that 

 derive interest from historical recollections, — with everlasting 

 hills whence arose the smoke of druidical sacrifices, — with rills 

 whence was lifted the water of the baptism of the first converts 

 to our Christianity, — with cairns, camps, and seats of regal and 

 lordly power, — with ancient priories and cells and abbeys that 

 are still our admiration, — with battle-fields of note, — with strong 

 castles and towers and bastles, — with fairy traditions and love 

 passages, — ^with much poetry and romance, — and with the birth- 

 places of men who have risen above common humanity. I have 

 indicated by short notices many of these memorabilia as I have 

 gone on in my register, for specimens collected from them are 

 to be treasured not more for their own peculiar value than for 

 the reminiscences and thoughts which the spot gives life to. 

 "A plant," to use the words of Sir James Edward Smith, 

 " gathered in a celebrated or delightful spot, is, like the hair of 

 a friend, more dear to memory than even a portrait, because it 

 excites the imagination, without presuming to fill it." 



' Thanks be to Nature, some green spots remain 

 Free from the tread and stain of that gross world 

 Whose god is commerce, and religion gain — 

 Its altars furnaces, whose smoke is curled 

 Around the very clouds ! — Be praise agen 

 To Nature and her God ! while some are whirled 

 The dizzy round of joy, and some turn churled 

 Or fevered from life's game, — to balm the pain 

 Of a stung heart — still the self-troubled brain — 

 Refine the mind — silence, if not appease. 

 Pale recollections, memory's agonies. 

 And throw the load of anxious cares behind. 

 There still are flowery meadows, pathless woods. 

 Groves, hills and vales, forests and solitudes ! "— C. Webbb 



* " We are the better as well as the happier for local attachment."- 

 Southey. Life, ii. p. 182. 



