$ 4-fefc No. 71. JANUARY, 1857. Price 6d. n A POPULAR MONTHLY MAGAZINE, ILLUSTRATIVE OF THE ANIMAL, VEGETABLE, AND MINERAL KINGDOMS. WITH OCCASIONAL ENGRAVINGS. CONDUCTED BY THE EEV. P. 0. MORRIS, E.A., Member of the Ashmolean Society, etc. Author of "A History of British Birds." "A History of British Butterflies. "A History of the Nests and Eggs of British Birds." "A Bible Natural History." "A Book of Natural History," etc., etc., etc. 0 Lord, how manifold are Thy works! in wisdom hast Thou made them all: the earth is full of Thy riches.— Psalm civ., 24. LONDON: GROOMBRIDGE AND SONS, 5, PATERNOSTER ROW. AXD MAY BE HAD OF ALL BOOKSELLERS. CONTENTS. PAGE. The Study of Natural History Conducive to Health. By Thomas Fuller, Esq 1 Destruction of Birds. By 0. S. Bound, Esq 3 Extracts from Correspondence with a Brother Naturalist. By Frederick M. Burton, Esq 5 A Peep at the Ferns, etc., of Sutherland and Boss. By W 8 On the Ascent of Cader Idris, from Barmouth. By K. C 13 Golleyweston Slate. By Frederick M. Burton, Esq 1(3 Systema Naturae. By The Editor 18 Miscellaneous Notices. — The Nightingale. Blackbirds and Bat. Kingfishers. Fly Orchis and Canterbury Bell 19 Exchange. — Sea, Land, and Fresh-water Shells 20 NOTICES TO CORRESPONDENTS. Communications have been received from Mr. C. Thurnall; — Arthur Havers, Esq.; — Mr. C. Smoothy, Jun.;— Miss J. E. Wilkinson; — James S. Walker, Esq.; — Mr. James Bladon; — Mr. William Yellowlt; — Francis Walker, Esq., (two;) — T. Southwell, Esq.; — Mr. C. Waleord, (two;) — Mr. John Walsh; — Rev. J. Greene, (two;) — J. Gatcomre, Esq.; — G-. H. Twinn, Esq.; — Rev. H. Harpur Crewe; — Mr. S. P. Savill. NOTICE TO ENTOMOLOGISTS. For the future various matters connected with Entomology, will receive more attention in this Magazine than they have hitherto done. Promises of assistance in this department have been made by several able Ento- mologists. The Editor will be glad to receive contributions of a scientific character. %* Correspondents are particularly requested to write the names of persons, places, and things very distinctly. Volume I, Price 6s. 6d., and Volumes II, III, IV, and V, Price 7s. 6d., of "The Naturalist," may be had bound in cloth; and Cases for binding the Volumes at Is. 6d. each. Communications, Dratoings, Advertisements, etc., to be addressed to the Rev. F. O. MORRIS, Nunburnholme Rectory, Hayton, York; — Books for Review and* Parcels, to the care of Messrs. GROOMBRIBGE, 5, Paternoster Row, London. TO ADVERTISERS. Advert iscments arc inserted on the Cover of The Naturalist, on the following Terms:— | of a page, Is. — J of a page, 7s. — § of a page, 12s. — Whole . 21s. Bills stitched in, 20s. Advertisements to be sent in not later than the 15th. of the Month, THE NATURALIST; A POPULAR MONTHLY MAGAZINE, ILLUSTRATIVE OF THE ANIMAL, VEGETABLE, AND MINERAL KINGDOMS. CONDUCTED BY. THE REV. F. 0. MORRIS, B. A. THE ENTOMOLOGICAL DEPARTMENT BY • A C. R. BREE, ESQ. VOL. VIL-Vllj WITH ENGRAVINGS. 0 Lord, how manifold are thy works! in wisdom hast Thou made them all : the earth is full of Thy riches. — Psalm civ., 24. LONDON : GROOMBRIDGE AND SONS, PATERNOSTER ROW. m dccc i/ra. TI E NATURALIST.^ THE STUDY OF NATURAL HISTOKY CONDUCIVE TO HEALTH. BY THOMAS FULLER, ESQ. The object of the following observations are intended more to establish the truth of the above proposition, than to furnish information upon the subject itself, in which I fear the little knowledge displayed will caiise a smile from my readers : but with reliance upon the old homely proverb "that it is never too late to learn/' I am encouraged to proceed, and, if not an apt, can at least testify to being a willing scholar, and of fully appreciating the labours of the talented Editor of the "Naturalist," and the interesting communications of his correspondents, towards leading the minds of others to a taste for the pursuit of a study tending so much to the acquirement of health and content. Somersetshire, for rich and romantic scenery, is not inferior to any county in the kingdom. The Mendip and Quantock hills, with abundance of other elevated downs, where the purest air can be enjoyed as it comes fresh from across the Atlantic, stand in pleasing contrast with the rich and productive valleys. Luxuriant woods furnish shelter and protection to the feathered creation, particularly on the north-western side, bordering on the Bristol Channel, when nature assumes a grander appearance, with bold rocks projecting to the sea, and retiring bays richly wooded leading to enchanting vales. In these more favoured situations, the contemplation of birds, and other subjects of Natural History, might be carried on with advantage. My visits in this direction, though limited, have been quite sufficient to satisfy me that the lover of nature might here follow his favourite pursuit with success. The ancient and elegant city of Bath, is too well known to require description. Situated at nearly the eastern extremity of the county, in a rich valley, through which flows the River Avon from east to west, on the north and south sides beautiful hills rise in gentle slopes, and then in bolder elevations, ascended by easy winding paths, affording enchanting views at every turn, and, upon reaching their summit, extensive and varied pros- pects. The population of the city and villages around is too numerous to VOL. VII. B 2 THE STUDY OF NATURAL HTSTORY. favour propagation of the feathered tribes, but notwithstanding this drawback, the book of nature is not a blank, and subjects of interest are not wanting to those possessing taste and inclination to seek after them. A life of industrial occupation leaves few opportunities for recreation, the theatre for the study of Natural History being essentially that of the fields and woods ; with a mind at ease and in full command of time, few individuals engrossed in business find themselves in possession of these advantages, and until within the last few years such has been my situation. Our immortal bard, in one of his never-to-be-forgotten soliloquies, has pourtrayed the life of man in seven ages. In my case five have passed; not all of them, it may be observed, in the same characters described by him, and however varied these may be according to position and occupa- tion, the next admits of pretty general application. — "The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon." It is at this period of life that the greatest of all temporal blessings, Health, is best appreciated as the only means of alleviating the pains attending that inevitable disease, old age, and beneficial as the investigation of nature is, at all seasons, it is never attended with greater advantages, than in this, the autumn of our existence. I have chiefly to thank the "Naturalist" and the charming freshness prevailing through the communi- cations of its various correspondents, for inspiring me with a taste for, and inclination to follow this delightful pursuit. And here let me embrace the opportunity of earnestly recommending everybody, particularly those who, like myself, have passed the best portion of their lives absorbed in business occupations, to cultivate acquaintance with natural objects, and to lose no opportunity of studying the book of Nature. In so delightful a study the mind finds perfect relaxation, every page of this inexhaustible volume being full of interest, and pleasing reflections attend every line. Here is no complex subject to speculate upon and unravel; no difficult problem for solution; no doubtful proposition to argue, to the strain upon and exhaustion of the mental powers. On the contrary, natural presentations, simple and interesting, are replete with pleasure and satisfaction, cheerfulness waits upon every reflection, and every step leads to happiness, even winter, frowning winter, when as Thompson says, — "How dead the vegetable kingdom lies! How dumb the tuneful! Horror wide extends His desolate domain." And as Dr. Johnson beautifully expresses it, — "Xo music warbles through the grove, No vivid colours paint the plain, No more with devious steps I rove, The verdant paths are sought in vain." DESTRUCTION OP BIRDS. 3 Even at this inclement season, when sexagenarians like myself, are prone to seek comfort from closed doors and blazing fires, nature without pre- sents sufficient attraction to draw us forth. Visitors peculiar to the season begin to arrive from still colder regions, and very little exertion brings under our observation Fieldfares, Redwings, and a variety of other strangers, to the benefit of our health, and increased enjoyment of our firesides upon returning home, whilst those who are fortunate enough to reside in retired rural situations, are gladdened with the nearer approach to their dwellings, of Blackbirds, Thrushes, and many others of our native birds, affording opportunities of feeding them, and of closer observation. As spring advances, the lover of nature becomes full of pleasurable anticipations; he looks out for the Sky-lark, watches his soaring flight, and listens with lively satisfaction to his swelling notes. The appearance of the Swallow tribe is anxiously waited for, and the arrival of the various species carefully written down. The harsh cry of the Wryneck, the avant courier of the Cuckoo, gives notice of his approach, and the country round soon abounds with his welcome, though monotonous note. Numerous other birds follow, whilst Blackbirds, Thrushes, and many others of our constant residents, hitherto silent, open their little throats, filling the air with their music, and making the woods ring with their son^s. Now is the time for full enjoyment of the country, and happy, thrice happy, are they who have the good fortune to reside in the rural districts. (To be continued.) DESTRUCTION OF BIRDS. BY 0. S. ROUND, ESQ. In the September No. of "The Naturalist," there is an article by Mr. Thomas Fuller, upon the "Scarcity of Birds" in particular districts, involving the difficult question, "how far their destruction is necessary?" With regard to the question of their destruction through mere wantonness or ignorant superstition, this we may of course dismiss at once, as indefen- sible; but, on the other hand, I am afraid that, were the natural checks to undue increase removed, (one of which I take cats to be,) it would be subversive of natural economy, and this too, in a state of things where even greater checks are rendered necessary. What I mean is this, suppose this country were an Arcadia, and man, subsisting upon the spontaneous products of the earth, roamed at will, unharmed and unharming, it is obvious that both cats and birds would be vastly more numerous than at present; cats then would prey upon birds, and in their turns have, probably, as many enemies at least, as at present, and we know very well that no 4 DESTRUCTION OF BIRDS. domestic animal ha3 so many. We all admire "poor pussy," she is our earliest playmate, gentle, pretty, and useful as a mouser, but she has the lion's nature, she is still of the order Felis, and in reality a wild beast, and where opportunity occurs, the wild nature comes out, and she is therefore subject to the contingencies attending it, and, like other wild animals, is prolific enough to make the supply equal to the demand. In the state of things I am supposing, the fruits of the ground would arise without tillage, and be gathered without labour and without being the exclusive property of any one, and hence such an equality of right would exist, that the birds would have the same title to the corn or the cherry as a rational being. But this state of things does not exist, and therefore, when time, and labour, and money are expended in the producing, although the natural territory of the bird may be, to a certain extent, invaded, and the natural supply lessened, still man labours for a return and is clearly entitled to it, and therefore if the numbers of birds remain the same, with a less field for their support, the question arises, are they to be supported to his detriment? Now, if under these circumstances, some of them are destroyed, certainly this comes not either under the head of wanton or superstitious destruction, and although it may be a sad one, still it is a real necessity. I know it has been said that Sparrows, or Larks, or Buntings, let them be ever so numerous, cannot consume sufficient to create any loss to the farmer; I have seen it otherwise, and it is notorious how pea-fields and fruit-gardens are often entirely stripped of their produce by these gentry. This is on the general question, and then comes that branch to which Mr. Fuller especially refers, namely, the indiscriminate destruction for some supposed object, and by too great a number of the feline race being kept. Now, with regard to "collecting" birds as specimens, my own notion is this; my earliest memories, and bright and pleasant ones they are, are associated with the contemplation of natural objects, and the contemplation only; I would sit for hours, (without metaphor,) watching the movements, habits, and appearance, both of birds and animals, and had no thought of appropriating or destroying them. Then came the time of boyhood, and with it, I confess, the destructive tendency common to that age, but as I soon became a bird-stuffer, and an "indifferent good" hand, I really had some excuse, but there was still the innate propensity to possess, and I fear that by gun and stone, (for I was an excellent shot with this latter primitive weapon,) I knocked down many a luckless songster which was not made any use of, and I look back upon that time with deep regret, and have always, and shall always do my best to prevent such useless cruelty in those of the same age. I entirely agree with Mr. Fuller upon the destruction of our most EXTRACTS FROM CORRESPONDENCE. 5 beautiful birds, both in song and plumage, and although I prize my small museum, had rather, a hundred times, sit and watch one of these lovely creatures as he did, than possess twenty as stuffed specimens. Putting it on the lowest ground, there is a beauty about a living bird, which no skill in preserving, nor taste in mounting, can ever restore, and I am convinced were this evil, for evil it certainly is, under some control, our choicest kinds would not be so fast vanishing from our eyes as they are. It is chiefly, however, I trust and believe, by the ignorant and coarse-minded that this wholesale havoc is made, for I am certain that did any one of common sense and feeling only allow himself to watch instead of killing, he would seldom or never kill. I am convinced that the subject only wants consideration, to shew any one the true line. No doubt modes of preserving fruit and crops may be adopted, and are adopted, but with regard to natural enemies, it were almost impugning the natural order of things to call that in question, and when birds become "vermin," beautiful as they are, I fear they must meet the fate which vermin meet. Pembroke Square, Kensington, September, 1856. EXTRACTS FROM CORRESPONDENCE WITH A BROTHER NATURALIST. RY FREDERICK M. RURTON, ESQ. (Continued from page 221, vol. vi.) Who is there that has not wondered at the curious circles so common in our English meadows, sometimes green and sometimes bare, called "Fairy Rings," and when we think of the tales of wonder we have often heard as children in connection with these weird impressions, it seems almost a pity that it should be so determinately settled that they are nothing but the work of eccentric fungi; but let us hear what a learned doctor of the seventeenth century has to tell us on the subject, in the good old days of witches and warlocks, and if it will not alter our ideas respecting their origin, it may perhaps tend to shew on which side of the nineteenth cen- tury we are to look for the golden age. I lately chanced to meet with an old book, printed in the year 1686, written by one Robert Plot, L.L.D., keeper of the Ashmolean Museum at Oxford, and Professor of Chemistry in that University, and dedicated to King James the Second, in which he lays down the law on the subject to his own and no doubt to his reader's satisfaction. I will give you the account in his own words: — "And here we will inquire into the efficient cause of those rings called 'Fairy Circles;' whether they are caused by lightning, or are indeed the rendezvous of 6 EXTRACTS FROM CORRESPONDENCE. witches, or the dancing places of those little pigmy spirits, the Elves or Fairies." He then goes on to state that they are various in size and shape, and mentions having seen one near Birmingham nearly forty yards in diameter, that the rims of the circles are seldom narrower than a foot, or broader than a yard; and after a somewhat minute description of their shapes, he says, "Now that witches and wizards have sometimes their field conventicles, and that they dance in such rings, we have ample testimony from divers good authorities, who received it in confession from the criminals themselves, condemned by them." One of the authors alluded to was one Keraigius, a Judge in Lorraine, "who," says the Doctor, "was the best skilled in matters of this nature that the world has ever yet known, having had the examinations, confessions, and condemnations of no less than nine hundred wizards and witches in fifteen years." This same experienced Judge, in "a learned work upon the subject," describes one of these dances, how a damsel, returning from grinding corn, spied an assembly of these fairy Elves at their dance in one of these rings, some of which said Elves she could observe on close inspection "had cloven feet like oxen and goats, at which sight, she being sore astonished, called upon the auxiliary name of St. Peter to help her home, whereupon the Elves did all quickly vanish in the air," leaving, of course, the marks of their cloven feet and the circular limit of their ball-room. The damsel was very ill in consequence of the fright, and one of her antiquated neigh- bours was soon discovered to have been at the dance, and, on being apprehended, confessed, and was burnt. The Doctor did not, however, himself believe that the witches caused "the more part" of the circles, aud after winding up the marvellous by saying that "herein every man is to choose his own creed," he proceeds to assign some causes for these curious rings, and says, "Some of them may be occasioned by Moldwarps, (Moles,) which may at a certain time of the year, by instinct of nature,* work in circles, as 'tis certain Fallow Deer do in the time of rutting, treading the same ring for many days together. Others have fetched their origin from the dung of cattle, fed in the winter time at the same part of hay, falling always from them in due distance, and fertilizing the ground in a more than ordinary manner. Others have them to be caused by the water, and hay itself, falling from the eaves of round hay- stacks plentifully in wet weather, and indeed it is possible that some of them may be made in either of these ways." But for the larger circles of forty, fifty, and sixty feet in diameter, he assigns a different cause. He says they abound in the parks near Oxford, and that he examined the soil under the rims of sonic of them to see how it differed from the adjoining earth, and found it much drier and looser, and the parts interspersed with a white hoar, much like that in mouldy bread, EXTRACTS FROM CORRESPONDENCE. 7 and of a musty rancid smell, but to taste insipid, and this scarcely any- where above six inches deep, the earth again below being of a due con- sistence, and genuine smell. He then says, "this must needs be the effect of lightning, which explodes from the clouds most times in a circular manner; it first singes the grass and makes it of a russet colour, but the year following of a dark luxuriant green, the earth underneath having been highly improved with a fat sulphureous matter." So much for the learned Doctor's theories, at all events he must have been of an inventive turn of mind, and like a good lawyer, he knew how to assign a sufficient number of causes to one effect, so as to have some- thing to fall back on in case of being deprived of his status quo. But at this time of the year, (February,) when the ground is once more covered with an old-fashioned coat of snow, and the roads stopped up with drifts, it seems out of place to be talking of fairy rings and green meadows. It is a long time since we have had so severe a frost, the birds are beginning to be wonderfully tame, and as fear gives place to hunger, they approach nearer to our windows, and become the more easy prey of that itinerant English vagabond the "hedge- popper." It has often struck me as strange how the numberless troops of gnats, that appear with the first gleam of sunshine on a fine winter day, are preserved during the cold frosty nights from destruction, and I have often thought that like the chrysalides of moths and butterflies, which are exposed to the action of the weather above ground, and during seasons of cold become so hard as to break like glass, and on the return of warmth relax and live again, so it might be with these insects; and I have had the satisfaction of finding out that with some of them at all events this is the case, for one bright day last January I observed several flying up and down the panes of my window enjoying the warmth. Towards the afternoon a very sharp frost set in, and the heat of the room inside began to congeal on the glass, and caught one poor gnat that had been slow in discovering the change in the weather, and held it fast by, the feet. Feeling the cold stiffening around it, it began to kick and struggle, but this only made matters worse, and it was presently fastened down flat on the glass in the most uncom- fortable position, with its wings distorted, and every leg out of place. Next morning I discovered it in the same position, quite hard, and completely frozen through. Presently however the sun began to melt the coating of ice on the window, and I was glad to see the gnat revive with the returning warmth, and fly as briskly as ever up and down the panes. A severe winter like this, which to some is always a dreary season, is ever interesting to the naturalist, from the change wrought in the instincts and habits of animals by the inclemency of the weather. Wild birds are driven inland, and some of those that dwell around us 8 THE FERNS OF SUTHERLAND AND ROSS. congregate in vast numbers. In one of my late rambles I saw some Gulls feeding with a flock of Rooks in a newly- ploughed-up field, and some sheep, that ought to have been taken better care of, were obtaining their food, covered six inches or more with snow, by scraping each one a bare place on the ground with its feet, renewing their labour as often as occasion required. One of them was highly displeased with a piece of thorn that had got entangled in its long wool behind, and kept every now and then darting off at full speed as if trying to get rid of its persecutor; sometimes it stopped to take a side glance at the object of its alarm, and then with a kick and a bound set off again with renewed vigour. Notwithstanding the intense cold the birds are not entirely silent; the Robin sings early and late, and to-day one was indulging in its loudest notes in the middle of a heavy snow-storm, doubtless in anticipation of the warm sun's rays, which soon after broke through the clouds; now and then also one may hear the "laugh" of the Green Woodpecker, and towards evening the musical caw of the Rooks, as they return home from their day's excursion, attracts attention. These birds are most regular in their winter habits here; — from about September to the beginning of March they congregate from all the neighbouring rookeries, and morning after morning set out in a body for the low marshy lands of the Welland, and regale till the evening, when as regularly they may be seen a little after dusk returning in a long straggling line to the place of rendezvous — Wardley Wood; those that arrive first invariably settle on the high ground over- looking the wood, and when all are assembled, at some given signal, they rise with one long caw, and settle for the night on the bare branches of the tallest oaks. Uppingham, February 0>th., 1856. A PEEP AT THE FERNS, ETC., OF SUTHERLAND AND ROSS. BY W. Relieved for a time from the duties of office, I resolved to avail myself of a kind invitation to spend some days in Sutherland. I took the Orion steamer at Banff to Burghead, and thence proceeded by another boat to Little Ferry, near Dunrobin Castle. My course then lay along Strathfleet to Rogart. Here a few days were spent very pleasantly. On a rising ground behind the manse I met with Lycopodiura clavatum, and among the broom the beautiful Cemiostoma spratifoliella. In a small loch about two miles to the north of the manse grows in abundance Nymphoea alba. THE FEIiNS OF SUTHERLAND AND ROSS. V I was joined by a companion at the manse, and on Monday, August 4th., we started from Lairg for Durness. The road at first lies along^the side of Loch Shin; it runs, on leaving Lairg, through a fine avenue of natural birch, interspersed with tall tangled patches of the more common Ferns, Lastrea dilatata, L. spinulosa, L. oreopteris, Athyrium Fitixfcemina; on emerging, it enters on bare, benty, low-lying ground, where we were greeted by the scream of the Curlew and the whirr of the Grouse. The country all along the loch has the same bleak appearance, and the hills on the opposite side are low, and rise in gentle round masses, their brown surfaces broken here and there by a house and its plot of tilled land. Near Shiness the land is cultivated, the only place along the loch, and many fine trees enliven the parks. As we proceed the view becomes more varied; in front, the hills rise in serrated masses, with Ben More Assynt far away in the distance, towering high over all. On nearing the end of the loch, and coming to the next in order, Loch Greim, the scene is wild and grand. The road appears to be barred up, and it is only on reaching a high point on the road that it is seen, running along the edge of the loch, at the foot of a hill, steep, rugged, and bare, with a few clumps of stunted birch hanging on its sides, while on the other side the hills rise in black heavy masses. Eight cheerily did we wheel along the deep glen where Loch Markland, the next in succession, lies. We had on one hand the loch, backed by dark hills, with here and there a bare polished rock glistening in the sun, and their sides furrowed by torrents that dashed down in foam to the lake, and sent across in fitful notes their murmurs, softened by distance; and on the other, hills rising, sometimes steep, sometimes broken and jagged, and sometimes round, with the deep blue heavens spangled with white fleecy clouds, and a hot sun overhead, and the breeze coming from the hills in refreshing gusts. On reaching the watershed, a little beyond the loch, a scene singularly bold and beautiful is opened up. The hills in front rise black and frowning; their bases and half-way up their sides are strewn thick with rocks torn from their ribs, all huddled and heaped in terrible confusion — "Crags, knolls, and mounds confusedly hurled, The fragments of an earlier world," overgrown with birch, whose dark foliage is in unison with the scene, while towards the summits their sides are almost perpendicular, broken up into an endless variety of pinnacle and ridge, one here and there shining in the sun like the eye of the mountain's guardian god, looking out from his storm-rocked couch to admire and watch over the beauty and grandeur of his charge. Down the slope we swept, and round an overhanging cliff, some hundred feet high, to Loch More, that gradually displayed VOL. vii. c 10 THE FERNS OF SUTHERLAND AND ROSS. itself, lying deep in its mountain bed, and breaking in sweet murmurs on its white beach, with the wavelets glittering, and playing, and dancing, as if in sportive gladness at the sweetness of its music, and in delight of its beauty, with Ben Stack at its head, like a giant, "To sentinel enchanted laud." The scenery along the loch is of much the same character as that along Loch Markland, only grander and wilder. The hills on the one side are steep, broken, and rugged, covered far up with birch, and under- grown with Poly-podium vulgare, Pteris aquilina, Lastrea dilatata, L. Filix mas, and Athyrium Filix feemina. On the other, they receded from the water in rounded masses, cleft here and there by deep ravines, till towards the head of the loch, where the rocks rise, at the water's edge, bare, bold, and bluff. Horses were changed at the head of the loch, and we set off at a quick pace round the base of Ben Stack, through low-lying ground, along the side of a loch growing thick with Nymplioea alba. The ground shortly rises, and has an undulating kind of appearance, the rocks being a sort between gneiss and greywacke. We in a little time reached the highest point of the road, and then descended to Loch Stack. The road, cut partly from the rock, and built up partly from the loch, makes a sudden sweep, and discloses at once the whole lake, — a scene of wondrous wildness. The hills rise on the one side almost perpendicular for several hundred feet, here and there along the base strewn with huge rocks torn from the higher parts, and overgrown far up with birch, ferns, foxglove, etc., while the overhanging summits are broken up into every variety of form, now smooth, now round, now jagged, now jutting out in fantastic ridges, now seeming to topple over. "The rocky summits, split and rent, Formed turret, dome, or battlement, Or seemed fantastically set With cupola or minaret, Wild crests as pagod ever deck'd, Or mosque of Eastern architect." On the opposite side of the loch, the hills rise in every shape and colour, in deepening array,— round, steep, abrupt, serrated, peaked, deeply furrowed, white, grey, green, dark, mottled, — all bathed in a glorious sunshine, casting their deep shadows the one on the other, and forming a fairy sight of light and shape. Towards the end of the loch, the scenery becomes much tamer, and the road that lies between the loch and Laxford Bridge may be said to have a desolate and an uninviting appearance, passing through a part with a low, broken, bare, rocky surface. Beyond Laxford Bridge, the country loses its terrible sublimity, and assumes an THE FERNS OF SUTHERLAND AND ROSS. 11 appearance of desolate grandeur; for a short distance the road runs at the foot of bare rocks along the edges of Laxford, that stretches away to the ocean between high steep cliffs; then toils up rising ground, through rocks, broken, twisted, and thrown up at all conceivable angles; then along a height whence a view of the country is got — a real picture of desolation; now down a steep descent; then round a projecting ridge; here along the end of a narrow glen, reaching far away between grey mountains; now along the edge of a loch; now round the shoulder of a hill; then along the face of another; now along the side of a torrent fretting its way among granitic boulders to some kyle, shewing its sparkling waters through some gorge in the hills; now up hill, and out on a heath dreary and lonely; then along past some lochs, amidst bare rocks, whose basins look like the vents of subterranean fires. Mile after mile of this wild desolateness passed away, wearying, and yet not wearying, the eye with looking; the same, and yet not the same; leaving on the mind an indescribable mixture of pleasure and wonder, not unaccompanied with a feeling of sadness, rising at times even to pain. By this time the sun was far down, and "Each purple peak, each flinty spire. Was bathed iu floods of living fire," with here and there a cloud — now white, no v dark, now red, now fringed with orange — sailing along their sides, or stretching from pinnacle to pinnacle, as if to form a bridge for the spirits of the warrior chiefs who once owned these lands. Before Durness was reached, night had clothed the hills in her sable folds, and the bold coast of the Atlantic Ocean was only seen in the dim distance. Next day I set out to see the sights. The country round the townships of Durine and Sango is very rocky, mostly of limestone, and very uneven, dotted in every direction with lochs. Not much is cultivated, and that part very slovenly; for the inhabitants, notwithstanding all that has been done for them by the Duke of Sutherland, are in a blissful state of primitive civilization. The hills towards the south enclose it in the form of a crescent, and on the north is the Atlantic Ocean, with a coast of great wildness. There is an almost endless variety of cliff, precipice, rock, kyle, and bay. Sometimes the rocks rise up like walls; sometimes in black twisted masses; sometimes in overhanging cliffs; sometimes they run out in long, sharp, precipitous ridges, often terminated by an isolated rock, that seems to stand as the guardian of its own ridge; sometimes they gently recede from the sea, and leave a bay of fine white sand, now and then strewn with huge black limestone rocks. Here the sea runs up a narrow gorge, with high, wall-like sides, with tremendous force and terrific roar; there it rushes through a narrow hole, in white foaming circles, 12 THE FERNS OF SUTHERLAND AND ROSS. into a deep, dark, green pool — a forest of sea-weed; there, again, the rocks retire from each other, and the sea runs up for a good many yards, and forms a beautiful hay, with a cave at its head, for example, the cave of Smoo. At times would I lean over a precipice, and watch the sea rolling, and tossing, and boiling, and foaming, and moaning among the broken, huddled, charred rocks a hundred feet below, with the White Sea Mews, like the ghosts of drowned men, hovering over the abyss — now light green, now deep green, now blue, now a mass of white foam, now green again, with a thin broken covering of foam — and uttering their mournful cries, as if chiding the hungry waters for snatching so many from the bosoms of their happy families; with farther out to sea a Cormorant, now sitting as if in an easy chair on the wavy ridges, as they chased in each other to dash themselves against the opposing rocks; now diving below, and rising far from where it sunk; and now and then the Rock Pigeon flying past with the speed of the wind. After enjoying my fill of the grandeur of the scene, I would scramble away among the rocks, and down almost to the water's edge, in search of caves. Here is one. All around the rocks are black, as if burned, some lying loose, some lying flat, others standing perpendicular; here a large hollow worn out by the action of the water, and there, round a jutting rock, gapes the cave, like some monster. In I crept, and groped about among water-worn stones, round large smoothed pieces of projecting rock, now standing erect, now tumbling, now stooping into some black corner. But here is another narrow opening. Is this another farther in? Let us look. I am seated squat on the slippery rock, peering into a dark, deep recess, with scarcely a ray of light penetrating. Shall I enter? A strange sort of feeling sets upon me, a feeling, I suppose, experienced by most people on entering places of a like kind. I crawled in, and, lo! a mag- nificent dome of about thirty feet high, with a large piece of white quartz shining in the apex. I heard nothing save the dull dead dash of the Atlantic wave, wasting its fury on the rocks outside, and felt only the tremor of the rocks, as the heavy billows broke over them, and a cold, damp chill I never before experienced began to creep over me. I satisfied myself with looking, and left full of wonder and awe. But the Cave of Smoo surpasses all the others. The rocks round it cannot be less than two hundred feet in height. The cave itself is said to be eighty feet high, and is of a circular form. On the east side is a fine natural arch, and on the west is a long, dark passage, lightened by a large opening in the roof, through which passage a mountain stream runs, that tumbles through another opening further inland, on the opposite side of the road that leads from Tongue. On the surrounding rocks, and within the cave, grow Scolopendrium vulgare, Asplcnium trichomanes, A. ruta-muraria, and Cystopteris fragilis. ON THE ASCENT OF CADER IDRIS. 13 To the west of Durness lies the beautiful bay of Balnakiel, with its old church and churchyard close on the margin of white sand. Here live numbers of Oystercatchers, and on the moorlands above the sea, further to the west, lives the Golden Plover, while in the lochs that are scattered about in such profusion are to be found Eels, Trout, and (in Loch Borley) Oharr, (Salrao umbla.) Around the margins of some of them grow, to the height of two and three feet, Equisetum limosum. At the south end of Loch Crosspool, near the Manse, I picked off the limestone rocks A. ruta-muraria and A. trichomancs, and from the same rocks I procured some specimens of Clausilia nigricans. Among the rocks close to the water's edge grows Equisetum palustre, and a little further up, in a path leading to the Manse, Equisetum arvense in great richness. (To be continued.) ON THE ASCENT OP CADER IDRIS, PROM BARMOUTH. This morn I heard a strain among the hills, So sweet and yet so wild, it seemed To fill my inmost soul with ecstaey, And listening to its melody, my spirit swelled, As if 't would burst the massive circling folds Of some vast tangent cloud that pressed upon it: And yet there were no outward sounds; The voice that spake was that of Nature, Or of Nature's God. A fresh breeze, springing from the Western Sea, Danced lightly o'er the blades of heathy grass, Blending their gentle heads one way, While patchy shadows of the sailing clouds, That scarce along the valley seemed to creep, Shot up the mountain's smooth and slanted sides, And o'er its barren summit disappeared. The wild bee, soaring from the plains below, And wheeling past with rapid droning flight, Scarce caught the ear with sound, ere it was gone. Save this, and echoing from the upland meads The faint and lazy tinklings of the bells Worn by some vagrant leaders of the herd, Uninterrupted silence reigned supreme. Above, clear out against the sky, two buzzards sailed, And crowned the loftiest peak with circling curves; While stealthily, in contrast to their graceful flight, A solitary raven, full of dire intent, Slow flapped with lagging wings from space to space. [I have inserted the above at the request of a correspondent, but I have on hand a superabundance of "plain prose" for the time to come.] 1-t ON THE ASCENT OF CADEtt IDRIS. The sun had now attained its midday course, Since first I crossed the Mawddach's rippling wave, And skirting by its southern shore, past Arthog's Falls, Across the moorland decked with heath and gorse, The purple heath flower and the yellow gorse, Had climbed the lofty crag of Towr Mur. Here turning round to gaze, a nobler view Of purest Nature, blest by God's munificence, Than that which lay beneath, I never saw. The river, filled to silence by the tide, Lay like a still cold serpent far below, While in and out among its wooded isles Long lines of sea-fowl winged their steady flight; Beyond, the everlasting mountains reared their crests, With peak on peak, and height succeeding height; While, stretching far to north, a yellow line of sand Skirted the sea's illimitable plain, Whose waves, refracted by the midday's sun, Twinkled incessantly with starry gems of light. Here having gazed, with mind insatiate I turned. And passing o'er a brown and heathy wold, Well stored with saxifrage and homed moss, I reached the base of Cader's barren crest. Not far from hence, (so ancient shepherds tell,) On a bare lofty peak that stands alone, The last of Cambria's eagles lived and died: The crag is still the safe abode of birds, Where, unmolested, they may rear their young. From hence unto the summit of the mount, One vast chaotic mass of broken rock, In wild confusion tossed, lay scattered round, And scarce a break or sign of life appeared, Save where a gushing stream with magic touch Transformed the leaden grey to living green. This passed, the long-expected height was gained; But how describe the scene: I gazed not merely at each object there, Noting them down in memory's sure page; I saw, and felt again that power, That earnest secret longing after good, That something unattainable, which oft, Amid the wild and fever'd dream of life, When thirst for gain and thoughts of earth are stilled, The burdened heaven-born soul of man desires. Speak out, ye everlasting hills, and tell, 'Mid all your glorious beauty, what Creation's Lord Has done to mar your messages of love. Long time I gazed, Standing above the dark and dizzy precipice Which flanks the northern brow of Cader, A sheer descent, eight hundred fathoms deep, A riven wall of stone, where dwell secure The ravening birds of prey, and at its base, Beyond the loose debris, a still, dark lake. ON THE ASCENT OF CADER IDRIS. Down this descent a narrow path is shewn, Where, it is said, the mountain foxes climb; And stirring tales of chase, that ne'er grow old, Are oft related by the hardy mountaineers, And listened to with breathless, shuddering awe. They tell how once a well-known wary fox, That oft had slain the choicest of the herd, Was roused from out his hidden lair of fern, Down in the woods that skirt the Mawddach's shore; How right away it fled, close followed by the pack, Whose music, echoing from the distant rocks, Brought ready huntsmen from their cottage homes, A motley crew, on horseback and on foot, Bold cragsmen, well inured to the chase. With shout and wild halloo they sped along, And first across the lowlands held their way, Past copse, and fell, and cavernous ravine, Past many a wooded glen and wild retreat, Past heath and moorland, where the curlew feeds, Past busy scenes, and scenes of joyful mirth, Past homes of mourning, sorrow, and disgrace, Past many a tarn and rippling mountain brook, Where, like a shadow, glanced the wary trout, Past hamlet, and the quiet churchyard graves, Where, heedless and unheeded, lay the dead : And thus for many a winged mile they sped, Till hounds and huntsmen, wearied with the chase, Exhausted, one by one gave up pursuit, All save one staunch hound, which still pressed on, And gained upon its prey, which then essayed To climb the mountain's brow — its last resource. And now, with lolling tongue and panting sides, Eight up the steep ascent they slowly pressed, Pursuer and pursued in close companionship; With wistful eyes each passed the rippling stream Which gushes from the summit of the mount; A moment more, and almost side by side Over the fearful precipice they sprang. The next day, safe upon a jutting crag, By those who went in search, the hound was found; While far down at the base, a shapeless mass, Among the loose debris, the fox lay dead. And now the sun had reached its western bounds, And, as it sank beneath the level of the sea, Shot forth a radiant path of light Over the quiet ripple of the waves, as if To kiss the earth once more, then disappeared; And long before I reached the plains below, From dell, and vale, and wooded glens arose The opal mists of eve. K. C. 16 COLLYWESTON SLATE. BY FREDERICK M. BURTON, ESQ. Whenever any particular locality possesses something of interest not attainable elsewhere, any account, though even the most bare and unscientific, from those who have access to it, becomes worthy of perusal, and it is for this reason that I venture to send the following lines to "The Natu- ralist:"— But before alluding to these Slate pits, it will be advisable shortly to state the general formation of the strata in thi3 neighbourhood. Up- pingham is situated on a small outlier of the Lower Oolite, the junction of which with the Lias is plainly manifest in many places. This outlier is formed most probably by the great mass of the Oolite having been in ancient days partially swept away by some vast river or arm of the sea, leaving the Lias exposed beneath; and this supposition is warranted by the general appearance of the surrounding country, which lies in long smooth furrows from west to east, and presents evident traces of denudation. It terminates to the west of Uppingham, just outside the town, but in the opposite direction it stretches towards Stamford, to the distance of eight or nine miles; it is nowhere very wide, the greatest breadth, that opposite Collyweston, to the north of the Welland, being not much more than a mile and a half. Shortly after leaving Uppingham to the east, the great bed of the inferior Oolite is succeeded by the higher strata of the system, alternate bands of sandstone and concretionary limestone, under which the former dips, the inclination being to the east, and on Barrowden Common, a bed, or rather single layer of a large Oyster, (Ostrcea Marshii,) is found uppermost, in some places not more than twelve inches from the surface. As you approach Collyweston, you leave this outlier to the north, and crossing the River Welland, which runs over beds of Lias, you come to the general mass of the Lower Oolite formation, and there we find strata which are not to be met with in any other part of the kingdom. Allied to the Slates of Stonesfield, they yet differ from them in some respects, the latter being situated at the foot of the great Oolite, while the former, though originally supposed by some to have been below the Fuller's Earth, are now ascertained by Professor Morris to be situated one hundred feet higher than the Stonesfield beds, at the top of the great Oolite, and equivalent to the Forest Marble of Somersetshire and other places. The quarries are worked only in the winter time, as it requires the rains and frosts of that season to enable the slate to be split. The blocks, when first taken out, are on this account exposed in fields to the action of the weather, and in dry seasons watered to make them more amenable to the frosts. The slates when prepared are extensively used in this neighbour- COLLYWESTON SLATE. 17 hood, and when first dug up they are of a light grey colour, which on exposure soon turns to a dark brown; they endure very well, and are more ornamental than the ordinary Blue Slates. The splitting is caused, says Professor Phillips, by organic exuviae, on which account, as you would naturally suppose, immense numbers of fossils are found imbedded, princi- pally consisting of Trigonnellites and Gervillidae, one of the latter (Gervillia Monotis) being the characteristic fossil. I have also found there Myacitis ninomformisy Ceromya concentrica, Hinnites tegulatus, Pinna cuneata, Natica (Grandis, ?) and the rare Pteroceras Bentleyii. A great deal of wood, sometimes in immense pieces, is found in the strata; and the layers of Slate often present ripple marks, rain drops, and tracks of crawling worms. The laminations are pretty regular throughout, and the following is a section taken from the largest pits. ft. in. DESCRIPTION. The Carving, 4 0 . . Bubble. Soft Cale, "i Hard Cale, 1 5 0 Irregular beds of Oolite. Kiggling Course, 1 0 Beds more firm and compact concretionary limestone. Ring Course, 1 0 . do. Bedding Sand, (with gigs,) 3 0 Indurated Sand. Brood, .... 4 0 . . Oolitic, (not burnt for lime.) Limestone, . . 1 6 Stone used for Lime. Betch, .... 1 0 . . Irregular Sandstone. Slate, . . 3 to 4 0 Fine hard, compact, shelly stone, readily split. Fine Sand, (with gigs,) 14 to 18 0 Soft yellow sand Red Sandstone, . . Considerable depth. The Gigs, (so called by the workmen,) are discoidal masses of stone, exceedingly hard, imbedded in the sandy strata; they vary very much in size, some being not bigger than a cart wheel, while others are twenty feet or more in diameter. What these masses are, and how formed, perhaps some of your more scientific readers will explain; they are of a blue colour, and so hard that it is very difficult to break them with a hammer. These Slate beds have never yet been found to the north of the Welland. On crossing that river, which runs, as before stated, through the Lias, you come again to the same outlier of the Lower Oolite, at its eastern extremity, at Ketton, which there consists of broad deep beds of the great Oolite rock, in much request for buildings, and presenting the following section : — VOL. VII. d 18 SYSTEMA NATURE. ft. in. Whitish Clay, . 7 0 . Crash, . .40 Guts, . 4 0 . Rag, . .30 Freestone, . 4 0 . Rag, . . . as before DESCRIPTION-. Thick Loam. Hard coarse Oolite of a red colour. Brown Oolitic stone. Oolitic. Good Oolitic stone for building. There are but few fossils found in these beds, which renders them of more value for the purpose for which they are required. Some Pectens and Terebratulce are found in the Red Crash, and a few other shells, in the underlying strata, but the Freestone is almost entirely exempt from fossils of any description, and being, when first quarried, so easy to cut, and afterwards becoming so hard, it is much sought after, and is of con- siderable value to the owners. Uppingham, October 14th., 1856. SYSTEMA NATURE. BY THE REV. F. 0. MORRIS. (Continued from Sorex varius, Schinz. Sorex cinnamomeus, Licht. Schinz. Sorex pulchellus, Licht. Schinz. Sorex carolinensis, Bachm. Schinz. Sorex longirostris, Bachm. Schinz. Sorex cinereus, Bachm. Schinz. Sorex Dekayi, Cooper, Bachm. Schinz. Sorex Cooperi, Bachm. Schinz. Sorex fimbripes, Bacnm. Schinz. Sorex platyrhynchus, Silliman, Schinz. Sorex surinamensis, Pennant, Shaw, Schinz. Sorex Le Suerii, Duv. Schinz. Sorex himalaieus, Gray, Schinz. Sorex nigricans, Gray, Schinz. Sorex Dsi-Nezumi, Temm. Schinz. Sorex umbrinus, Temm. Schinz. Sorex platycephalus, Temm. Schinz. Sorex talpoides, Gapper, Schinz. Sorex mariquensis, Smith, Schinz. Sorex poensis, Fraser, Schinz. SoLENODEN. Solenoden paradoxus, Brandt. Schinz. page 286. vol. VI. ) MACROSCELlOiiS. Macroscelides typicus, Smith, Schinz. Rhinomys jaculus, Licht. Darst. Macroscelides rupestris, Smith, Schinz. Macroscelides Intufi, Smith. Schinz. Macroscelides Edwardii, Smith, Schinz. Macroscelides brevirostris, Schinz. M. brachyrhynchus, Smith. Macroscelides Alexandri, Schinz. Macroscelides melanotis, Schinz. Macroscelides Rozeti, Wag. Schinz. Myo galea. Myogalea muscovitica, Schinz. Mygale muscovitica, Desm. M. moschata, Brandt. Sorex moschatus, Pall. Schreb. Myogalea pyrenaica, Fisch. Schinz. Mygale pyrenaica, Desm. Geoff. G-a- lomys pyrenaica, Wagl. Talpa. Talpa europaea, Schinz. Talpa cceca, Savi. Bonap. Schinz. Talpa microura, Hodgson, Schinz. Talpa Wogura, Temm. Wieg. Schinz. MISCELLANEOUS NOTICES. 19 SCALOPS. Soalops aquaticus, Linn. Schreb. Sehinz S. canadensis, Desm. Richards. Scalops Townsendii, Sehinz. S. cana- densis, Richards. Towns. Bachm. Scalops Breweri, Bachm. Sehinz. Scalops argentatus, Bachm. Sehinz. Scalops latimanus, Bachm. Sehinz. Rhinasteb. Rhinaster cristatus, Sehinz. Sorex cristatus, Linn. Schreb. Richards. Rhinaster macrurus, Sehinz. Cordy- lura macroura, Harlan. Rich. Wag. Rhinaster longicaudatus, Sehinz. Talpa longicaudata, Frxleb. Cordylura longicaudata, Harlan. Desm. Cheysochloeis. Chrysochloris aurata, Sehinz. C. ca- pensis, Desm. Talpa asiatica, Linn. T. inaurata, Schreb. Chrysochloris holosericea, Licht. Sehinz Chrysochloris albirostris, Wag. Sehinz. Chrysochloris rutilans, Wag. Sehinz. Chrysochloris villosa, Smith, Sehinz. Chrysochloris hottentotta, Smith, Sehinz Chrysochloris damarensis, Ogil. Sehinz. Ubotbichtts. Urotrichus talpoides, Temm. Guerin. Sehinz. FAMILIA II.— Caenivoba. Ubsus. Ursus arctos, Sehinz. Ursus isabelhnus, Horsf. Fisch. Sehinz. IT. syriacus, Fhrenb. Ursus ferox, Lewis Sf Clark. Richs. Prinz Max. Sehinz. U. cinereus, Desm. U. candenscens, Griff". Fisch. IT. horribilis, Cuv. Ursus Americanus, Pall. Richards. F. Cuv. Fisch. Sehinz. Ursus Crowtheri, Sehinz. Ursus ornatus, F. Cuv. Fisch. Wag. Schreb. Sehinz. Ursus torquatus, Sehinz. U. tibetanus, Cuv. Schreb. Ursus malayanus, Raffl. Linn. Horsf. Cuv. F. Cuv. Griff. Sehinz. He- larctos euryspilus, Horsfield. Ursus labiatus, Blainv. Desm. SyTces. Sehinz. U. longirostris, Tied. Reich. Bradypus ursinus, Shaw. Prochilus ursinus, Hliger. Ursus maritimus, Schreb. Blum. Cuv. Richards. Griff. Sehinz. U. mari- nus, Pall. Fisch. U. albus, Ross. Ursus longirostris, Sehinz. U. formi- carius, Eversmann. Ursus fructilegus, Sehinz. (To be continued.) MimWunn Unto. The Nightingale.— -The very picturesque village of Thorpe, near Norwich, has long, from its quiet, thickly-wooded gardens, been a favourite habitat for Nightingales. I was strolling round the grounds of a friend there, on the evening of July 5th., when I was shewn a nest of this bird, built on a dwarf fir tree, certainly not more than three feet from the raised path. The song of the bird was not noticed till the second week of May — later than in former years; nor was the nest discovered till early in June, when it was complete, and contained eggs. Its "whereabouts" was made known by the partner's sitting on a closely-adjoining fir, and singing softly in the afternoon and evening. Many eyes watched the birds and peered into the nest, but no such intrusion had any effect in 20 EXCHANGE. disturbing the birds, for they hatched and brought up four nestlings, which were frequently seen sitting with the parents on the spreading branches of their paternal tree; but no song was heard from the offspring, though instances have been authenticated of their very early indulgence in song. The exterior of the nest was formed of dry leaves of the lime, proving that, in the absence of oak leaves, this bird, like many others, adopts what is to be met with, and so "suits itself to circumstances". — George II. Twinn, Birmingham, October 2nd., 1856. An agricultural gentleman I was recently visiting in Norfolk shewed me in his garden an apple tree, the lower part of the trunk of which had a hole about two feet and a half from the soil; a stick had often been thrust in, and found to travel down much farther, shewing the hollowness of the tree; the diameter of the opening was larger at the side of the tree than it was when once the hollow began to descend. In this hole a pair of Blackbirds stuck their nest, and plastered it securely in. One morning a burrow was found at the bottom of the tree, proving that a Rat must have been blocked up by the nest, and not liking "durance vile," had worked a passage out. Having no desire to remove his home, he kept to his lair at the foot of the tree, entering by the hole he had newly formed; but his days were doomed, after the discovery of his burrow, for he fell into the "tender embrace" of a deadly trap. — Idem. As we were driving one day (July 11th.) by the gate of a corn-field, we stopped to gather an ear that was black with smut. Getting over the gate, we found a small pond on our left, thickly grown round with bushes, from which five young Kingfishers rose. I think we certainly are losing this bird from the vicinity of dwellings, for I enquired relative to its haunting a mill-stream, where I had, some few years ago, known it breed three times in the season, and found that now it was never seen there, nor could I get any information to form a conclusion as to the cause. — Idem. I saw at the village of Runhall several specimens of the Fly Orchis, gathered by a cottager in her little paddock. She imagined she had found a prize, and so to her they were, for she conveyed the plants to a highly- respectable florist in Norwich, and received for them seeds useful for her garden. I also met with a fine bunch of the Canterbury Bell, with blossoms much larger than when under cultivation. — Idem. fejnrage. Sea, Land, and Fresh-water Shells, for exchange.-^J?#e»4iRicK M. Burton, Uppingham, Rutland. /^A' \l?- }