THE YOUNG NATURALIST. 



201 



stay many places of interest. Amongst them 

 the fine old ruins of Lanercost Abbey, which 

 looked very beautiful, thousands of the 

 wild wall-flower with their bright yellow 

 flowers jutting from the crevices of the 

 mouldering ruins, those seemed greatly to 

 interest him, and the keeper kindly allowed 

 him a few roots to place in his botanical 

 tin. Of the objects of interest, you will find 

 a description in the Naturalist, which he 

 penned on arriving home. The next time 

 I saw him was when exhibiting part of his 

 collection at the Y.N. Union Exhibition, at 

 Leeds. 



In the Summer of 1880, I had again the 

 pleasure of his company, along with our 

 dear old friend Talbot. This visit proved 

 a rich treat to myself and many others, as 

 we at Brampton, were just forming a 

 Naturalist Society, so arranging a field-day 

 during their stay, when a nice little party of 

 nearly a score enjoyed a lovely afternoon's 

 ramble, and Varley, with the great general 

 knowledge he possessed, added much to the 

 pleasure of the company. We numbered 

 amongst us several young ladies, real 

 enthusiasts in entomology and botany. He 

 had the pleasure of naming many captures, 

 also numerous botanical specimens, and the 

 impression given by the veteran Yorkshire 

 naturalists Talbot and Varley, to those who 

 had the pleasure to accompany them, will not 

 soon be forgotton. We had many pleasant 

 strolls during this visit, and were much 

 privileged in our rambles through the kind- 

 ness of the Keeper to the Earl of Carlisle. 

 Before their return we paid another visit to 

 Gillsland, this time in search of the little 

 fern {Asplenium viride), to find which we had 

 to travel over some wild but lovely scenery, 

 being then on the wastes of Bewcastle (one 

 favourite spot of Sir Walter Scott). The 

 wild whistle of the Curlew, the plaintive cry 

 of the Pewitt, with here and there the Ring 

 Ouzel, and flitting from stone to stone, on 

 the roughly winding Irthing, were the pretty 



Dippers; while almost beneath our feet 

 were numerous fronds of the oak and beech 

 ferns, and with a beautiful sun, just lower- 

 ing to the west, laid like a panoramic view 

 before us the range of Cambrian Hills — 

 from Skiddaw in the west to Tindale Fell 

 in the east — here the scene seemed to en- 

 chant him, and, standing for a while leaning 

 on his stick, repeated those lines of beauti- 

 ful poetry. 



Varley's Favourite Recitation. 



The wealth and dignities of state, 

 The little things that men call great, 

 Lack always power to impart 

 Aught that can interest the heart. 



The charms that mind delights to trace 

 Are those that dwell in Nature's face — 

 The only beauties that withstand 

 The touch of time's destroying hand. 



I love thee, Nature ! as a child 

 Loves the dear mother that beguiled 

 It's many a tedious hour of pain 

 And soothed it into health again. 



I love thee on the mountain wild, 

 The verdant valley, or the mild 

 Cool margin of some silvery stream, 

 Whose waters in the sunlight gleam. 



I love at noon the twihght shade 

 That gentle waving trees have made ; 

 To sit and let my spirit roam, 

 And visit nature in her home. 



Or on the scented turf to lie 

 And watch the meteor birds flit by — 

 The friends that from some other clime 

 Have come to share our summer time ; — 



And see the insects crawl, or fly 

 Like spirits to their native sky. 

 The embodied joy of sense they seem 

 "When dancing in the solar beam. 



Oh I 'tis a sense surpassing ease 



To feel the Mss of the cooling breeze, 



That like a spirit of love is sent 



From heaven to earth with good intent, 



That it might, with its gentle wing, 

 Eefresh and fan each wcry thing; 

 For if the meanest feel in pain, 

 There's balm to give it health again. 



It woos the rose, whose fragrant breath 

 Defies the mighty power of death, 



