Journal of Proceedings. xli
F.G.S., as the botanical "Guide, philosopher, and friend" of the expe-
dition. In vain, almost, their care: —
"The best laid schemes of mice and men,
Gang aft a-gley,"
The day's meteorological horoscope, since the earliest hours, had been
crossed with malign influences. Some of our members, watching for
the dawn and the Deer near Monk's Woods, had seen the sun rise
with auroral splendours—the ominous "red sky in the morning" of
the shepherd's rhyming adage—and gloomy forebodings of the pre-
dicted sea-borne storm filled our minds. However, as we cross the
railway at Theydon Gate, the afternoon, at worst, is but dull and
sullen; we strike up the lane towards Theydon Garnon Church, some
thirty of us, hopefully but doubtingly. Here is plenty of work for our
botanists, particularly in a piece of broken ground to the right of the
lane; the spot is quite choked up with many kinds of weeds, common
but welcome to the sight. Several species of Veronica and Epilobium
(Willow-herbs) in profusion; the charming little Enchanter's-Night-
shade (Cicaea), Ranunculus sceleratus, Teasels, Spurges, and fifty other
plants can be gathered in blossom or in fruit. Even the lane itself is
gay with Willow-herbs, Fleabane (Inula), Wound-worts, St. John's-
worts, Cranesbills, and Ragworts; whilst the amateur botanist's crux,
the order Composite, is in great force. Our geologists stop to examine
a section of the chalky boulder-clay exposed on one side of the lane,
albeit a hidden fear of local boards and road-surveyors checks the free
use of the pick and hammer. The route chosen for our ramble is truly
a pretty one; pleasant flower-decked lanes, shut in by hedges of
Black-thorn, Dog-wood, Spindle, Maple, Hazel, Honeysuckle, and
Briars; with long aisles of Nature's own Gothic architecture : tall
Elms and Lindens meeting over-head, and blotting out now and again
broad views of fertile valley and swelling upland, where quiet Essex ham-
lets and homesteads, red-tiled and gabled, nestle warmly amid the deep
green trees in the distance ; fair meadows and stubble-fields in which
child-gleaners still linger and claim "largesse" from the wayfarer ; deep
shady woodlands, and an antique church, rich in memorials of for-
gotten grandeur and past renown. The programme is surely tempting,
and with only a fair share of old Sol's ever welcome beams, the enjoy-
ment of the "meet" would have been ensured. But no! At an
early period of our ramble dense masses of vapour form and re-form
under a leaden sky with vicious and presaging aspect. In vain we
encourage ourselves with rash prophecies ; we feel that our doom
is written on the contracted and lowering horizon in unmistakable
characters.
At the church we are welcomed by the Rector, Sir Cavendish Foster,
Bart., who kindly takes upon himself the office of cicerone. The
Rectory garden is of good old-fashioned type, designed ere carpet