VIMU

proceed by omnibus to Stratford-upon-Avon, that we may gaze on the cottage where Shakespere was born and the grave where his bones moulder in peace. Their minds were prepared to adore in the gorgeous temple where the relics of the faint were enshrined in gold and precious ftones, by the perufal of legends written in defiance of Nature and Tafte; our interest in the homely scenes we visit is inspired by poems in which Nature is prefented to our minds with the fidelity of the most confummate art, and every fentiment and word dictated by the most exquifite taste. Not less fignificant is the change in the season at which we seek our annual recreation. In days when men were content with few luxuries and had leisure to choose their time for work and play, the verdure, the flowers, the finging of the birds, and the genial breezes of April, reminded them that a ride in pleasant company through the pretty fields and woods of Kent would be beneficial to their fouls; then "longen folk to gon on pilgrimages;" now we can only fave from labour and corroding cares a few weeks at the fag end of fummer, when we are released for a season from the confuming toils of our busy life.

On the whole, I think our nineteenth-century pilgrimages, whether their objects be the Matterhorn or the little town of Stratford-upon-Avon, have the

advantage of their predeceffors in the fourteenth century. But in one refpect mine was fadly inferior to that which started from the Tabard in the Borough somewhere about the year 1383. year 1383. I had no "perfight gentil knight," no clerk of Oxenford, no jolly friar, no gentle manciple, no gallant squire, no precise prioress, no boisterous host, to bear me company; nor, I fear, if I had, should I have answered to the description of the “ pore perfoun of a toun" in any quality except that implied in the first epithet. "I rode all unarmed and I rode all alone." I rode because I preferred spending my "parfon's week" loitering among the green lanes, taking the rough and smooth, the sunshine and shower, the bitter and sweet, as it pleased God to fend them, to being whisked from one point of my journey to the other in a railway carriage. In the latter plan the journey itself is quite uninteresting, and is, therefore, hurried over as quickly as poffible; in the former it forms part of the pleasure of the trip. "The prize is in the purfuit." Some of my neighbours, indeed, to whom I imparted my design, said very plainly, by their looks at least, that they thought me a trifle infane for spending three days in travelling a distance which might be accomplished by train in as many hours; but the imputation of infanity is one which must be submitted to by any one who refolves to follow his own inclinations in these

days when all thought and action are civilifed down to a dead level of infipid conventionalism.

A friend kindly lent me a Norwegian pony of small fize but immense power, for the journey. These strong, compact little animals get through far more work than a large horse. I christened my temporary fervant "Stornoway," for I thought that had a fine Scandinavian found. And fo, having packed the feweft poffible number of neceffaries in the old knapsack which had accompanied me round Brittany fome fix years ago, and strapped it on little Stornoway's crupper, I mounted for my journey.

At that moment, my black retriever, whom his former mafter had called "Smoker," came bounding up, wriggling from fide to fide, holding up "his honest bawsoned fonfie face," laying back his ears, and wagging his tail, as much as to fay, "What a pleasant ride we are going to have together." I did not like to disappoint him, and it struck me that he might make an agreeable addition to the tête-à-tête between me and Stornoway. So Smoker was permitted to join the expedition.

By the way, I never could make out the propriety of calling a dog "Smoker." Smoker." Johnson explains the word, “One who dries or perfumes by fmoke." And with all his good qualities, Smoker is as guiltless as

Crab was of having anything in common with perfume. Smoker is not a romantic or an elegant name; but my Smoker is as good-natured, sagacious, faithful, engaging, and, I may fay, with Launce, "gentlemanlike" a dog, as if he had taken his name from gods or heroes. Still, I must fay, he had fome of Crab's qualities, for he never shed a tear at leaving his friends, the beagle puppies.

The evening was delightful. It was the 31ft of Auguft: every field was filled with labourers gathering in the heavy sheaves, and at every turn I met the laden waggons, drawn by their sturdy teams, and entering the homesteads.

But, at the very outfet, I met with fome troubles for which I had not bargained. Stornoway was a very wife little fellow, and evidently thought that though it might be very good fun for me to ride along the pleasant lanes of England on a harvest evening on his legs, he had much rather be in his comfortable stable, and that poffibly a little well-timed firmness on his part might intimidate the new rider whom he found upon his back. Accordingly, as foon as he came to the well-known gate of his home he objected strongly to go any farther. The fmalleft intimation of mine with hand or knee that I wished him to go on, was met with a defiant tofs of the head. When I became im

portunate he fidled towards the gate. But he immediately resented an application of the whip or fpur by standing up straight on his hind-legs. If I had not been very quick in leaning well forward and loofening the reins, he must have tumbled back on the hard road. The next time he tried it, however, I was prepared, and leaning over his shoulder with a rein in each hand, I pulled him down, and then applied the spurs vigorously. After fome fighting and lofs of time and temper on both fides, we agreed upon a truce. The fame scene was repeated, however, with gradually diminished intensity at every farm-yard we came to, and I thought to myfelf," Master Stornoway, either you must give in, or we shall not reach Stratford this month." Stornoway did give in, for this was the last time he showed any ferious difpofition to dispute my wishes.

Hertford was my destination on the first night of my pilgrimage, and my road lay through the pretty village of Blackmore, and to the left of Foreft Hall, whence many a gallant fox has broken covert, and led the Effex hounds for miles across the celebrated Roding, or Roden, country, on the outskirts of which it is fituated. Both the country and the peer take their titles from the little ftream called the Roden which runs through it. About four miles on this fide of Epping I turned to the right for Harlow Bush, and