We still linger in the old quarry on Roman Camp Hill, but the day draws rapidly to a close, and the long level beams of the setting sun lighten up the higher grounds with a golden flush, while the valley below lies deep in shade. The rays fall brightly on the abrupt face of limestone at the further end of the quarry, every prominence standing out in bold relief, and casting its shadow far behind. Our eye, in passing over the sunlit rock, can detect the fractured joint of many an encrinite glancing in the light; along, too, with the strongly defined outlines of some of the lesser and more abundant molluscs--spirifers or producti. Some of them, sorely effaced by the rains, have begun to yield a scanty nestling place for creeping fibres of moss; others yet bare, afford a rest to the _Vanessa_ whereon to spread its wings in the mellow sunset ere flitting homewards among the dewy herbage. The bushes overhead scarcely rustle in the light-breathing air that comes fitfully across the land, and the long grass nods dreamily on the margin of the pool below. There rests a calm stillness on all the nearer landscape, and the distant ground blends away into the shades of evening. The scene, in short, has about it that solemn impressive repose which irresistibly arrests the fancy, and sets it to dress up into fantastic shapes the massive clouds that float in the western sky, to picture grim forms amid the misty shadows of the valley, or to dwell half dreaming upon the memories of the past, that come crowding through the mind in quick succession. Our labours among the fossils of the old quarry, however, enable fancy to draw her stores from another source. We muse on these petrified relics, gilded by the last rays of the setting sun, when slowly, like a dissolving view, sunset and herbage melt away, and the bottom of the old carboniferous ocean lies before us with its corals and shells and stone-lilies, stretching out their quivering arms, or expanding and contracting their flower-like petals amid a scene of ceaseless animation and activity. Geology delights in contrasts, and assuredly the contrast presented to us this evening between the present and the past of Roman Camp Hill, will not rank among the least striking of those which she has to reveal. There is now spread over us the blue sky, richly hung with tinted clouds, and melodious with the evening songs of the lark, the blackbird, and the thrush. Not less surely did a wide expanse of sea during the Carboniferous era roll over the hill on which we stand. And yonder silvery moon that mounts up amid the violet twilight of the east, has witnessed each scene and all the countless changes that have intervened between them. The same pale light that now begins to steal through the woods and athwart the fields, must have streamed down upon that old sea and illumined its green depths. Oceans and continents, islands and lakes, hills and valleys, have come and gone with all their successive