William Jackson Hooker, the son of a manufacturer of Norwich, rose to the rank of Regius Professor of Botany, in the University of Glasgow. In early life he was spoken of by Sir James Smith as the first cryptogamic botanist of the time, and his after-works proved the accuracy of the opinion. His “Muscologia Brittannica,” and “Monograph on the Genus Jungermannia,” are unrivalled as guides to the scientific enquirer, and, with his other works, may be classed among the gems of English literature. In the course of his rambles in the neighbourhood of his native city, he discovered, in a fir-wood near Sprowston, that quaint, curious, one-sided looking little moss, called _Buxbaumia aphylla_, which, destitute of any visible foliage, rears its little club-like seed-vessels upon its foot-stalks in the most eccentric possible manner. The muscologist may search long and often ere a specimen may meet his eye, even within the precincts of the grove where Dr. Hooker first discovered it; but many another rare and beautiful contribution to a moss herbarium shall reward him for his pains, especially the elegant _Bartramia_, with its exquisitely soft velvet foliage, and globular seed-vessels, to be met with in such rich abundance in few other soils. Lindley, the Professor of Botany in the London University, is another genius raised from the nursery grounds of the Old City; his father having followed the profession of horticulture at Catton, one of the suburbs of Norwich. One more biographical notice must close our list, and with it we make an end of our chronicles and “Rambles in an Old City.” To those who were among the privileged number of friends, acquaintances, or even fellow-citizens of Joseph John Gurney, it will be easy to imagine why so beautiful a subject has been chosen for the closing sketch of our “pencillings by the way;” and the world at large will see in the name of the great philanthropist, whose memory sheds a sacred halo over every spot familiar with the deeds of gentle loving-kindness, tender mercy, and active benevolence, that marked his earthly career—a meet theme from which to borrow a ray of glory to brighten the scene of our “Ramblings,” as the landscape borrows a golden tint from the lingering beams of the sun that has set beneath the horizon. As the brother of Elizabeth Fry, her fellow-worker in the field of usefulness, and her companion in her memorable visits to the prisons of England, Ireland, Scotland, and the Continent, his history could not have failed to possess a deep interest, even apart from the individual characteristics of his bright and beautiful home-life, and the lustre shed upon his name by its familiar association with those of Clarkson, Wilberforce, and Buxton, in the cause of slave emancipation.