But Alderley has other attractions besides its venerable church and its pleasant old-fashioned rectory. We are not now going to speak of the Edge--of the Castle Rock, of the Holy Well, of Stormy Point, of the weather-beaten Beacon and the glorious view over the Cheshire Plain which it commands; nor yet to repeat the legend of the Wizard, the Iron Gates, and the Enchanted Cave in which stand the innumerable milk-white horses with the warriors beside them, all in a profound sleep and so-- Doomed to remain till that fell day, When foemen, marshalled in array, And feuds intestine, shall combine To seal the ruin of our line. The park, the beech woods, and Radnor Mere are well worthy of a passing notice, and the story of the Stanleys deserves to be told, for Alderley, though a small place, has a history behind it, and one which it need not be ashamed to own. [Illustration: ALDERLEY RECTORY.] Alderley Park, "the fair domain" of the Stanleys, lies on the opposite side of the road to the church and the rectory. It is not so extensive as Tatton or Lyme, but it is equal to either for sylvan beauty and the charming views it affords. The rising grounds that extend in the direction of the Edge are clothed with a thick umbrage, the tall "patrician trees" mingling with the "plebeian underwood;" many of the older denizens of the wood are curled and distorted into all sorts of weird shapes, and bear the marks of the rough warfare they have had for ages to wage against the elements. Here and there pleasant vistas open out and from the high ground you can look over the fairest portion of the Vale Royal of England, over miles and miles of woodland and pastures and green fields, dotted at intervals with old farm houses and still older churches, a prospect such as no other country but our own can show, and which many a wanderer in distant lands would give a year of his life to see again. It is thoroughly pastoral in character, and imparts an undefinable sensation of quietude and rest, suggesting the idea of eternal tranquillity and peace. The view is charming at all seasons, but never more so than in the spring-time, when the trees have put on their fresh leafage, when the air is laden with the sweet odours of the scented thorn, and the thrush and the blackbird pour forth their melodious notes as if to make perfect the charm and witchery of our English scenery.