2 press. His state of ill health not only disqualified him for the task of carefully revising his work, but served, moreover, to render him morbidly sensitive to adopting the alternative of devolving that task upon another. Among the inaccuracies that would otherwise have been removed may be mentioned: the spelling of the name of Walsingham, which has been printed throughout Walshingham; and the substitution of Oxford for Norwich, at page 212 vol. i; besides, here and there, some obvious grammatical errors and misprints. London, March, 1864. now, 'in good sooth,' hang by the wall, and Dick, the ploughman, blows his nails vehemently as he hurries homewards, through the driving snow storm. Barnes Common seems bowed down with the iron frost, the bladed grass on its surface to have become perished and nipped up hope. lessly under the icy spell. Winter, with his snowy beard has indeed commenced, and men's thoughts and aspirations would all seem now to be wrapped up in blazing wood fires, genial hearths, and closed doors-no matter, "Heap on more logs, the wind is chill, In the old Hall of Barnes the logs burned bright and cheery. There was no lack; a ruddy glow shone upon the walls, and upon targe, helm, and jack, as they hung there on either hand. Warm and cheery, and full of comfort too, seemed the interiors of the low-roofed, largechimneyed cottages which skirted that Common, as the clock from the neighbouring belfry of the village church "Sounded one unto the drowsy race of night." Christmas tide is near, and almost every cottage hath its circle gathered round the hearth, ere retiring for the night. As they do so, the hoof tread of the traveller is heard far away on the hard road, whilst in the intervals of their converse, the late sitters listen to the wind as it roars and rushes amidst the thick woods, which stretch towards Sheen and old Richmond Park. Ringing clear at one moment, then dull and heavy in sound at another, as the traveller spurs over the frosted surface of the hard road and then upon its grassy margin on either hand, it comes nearer and more near. Carriages and other vehicular conveyances in those days and in that neighbourhood were but rarely used, almost all travel being on horseback or by the river. The heavy wain of the carrier with its tinkling bells was but a weekly comer; the coach of the noble, (escorted by a score or two of servants on horseback) was also a rarity, at this inclement season, and in such unsettled times. Nay, even the advent of a solitary horseman like the lated traveller "now spurring apace," even, we say, the advent of such a sound was sufficient to make the cottager open his ears and rub the elbow in expectation of some startling news from the world without. Meantime, still rings the hoof tread of the advancing horseman. Now it sounds almost at hand, then as some turn in the road occurs, it seems to die away, till another turn brings it within ken; and now it comes to where the gibetted murderer swings and creaks in chains upon the open down, and then it stops where the sign post directs which way to take to Sheen, and which to old Richmond; then it comes again across the waste-tramp, tramp, tramp, sharp and clear, and then dull, dead and hollow. And who, and what is that solitary horseman thus riding in the chill winter night when times are wild, and when, indeed, few travellers are bold enough to take the road, even on the most important business, unless accompanied by at least three or four comrades "armed to the teeth." Who, we say, is this horseman, thus riding alone "with unbated zeal," spurring onward through wood and field, and who apparently thinks not of-cares not for "The gentlemen of the shade, the minions of the moon," who infest the neighbourhood of almost every outlet from London town. |