Anyone who reads the book will see that it has involved no small amount of labour; whether in visiting (always on foot) the many localities described (in all more than 70 parishes having been visited); or in the careful search and research, necessary in many directions, for the information required. In both these respects, however, the task has been a congenial one, and of more or less engrossing interest, thus bringing its own reward. It has been said by a thoughtful writer that no one can enjoy the country so thoroughly as the pedestrian who passes through it leisurely. We all, instinctively (if not vitiated), have a love of the country. As Cowper has said:— “’Tis born with all; the love of Nature’s works Is an ingredient in the compound man, Infused at the creation of his kind.”—(“The Task.”) It is not, however, the cyclist, who rushes through our rural charms with head in the position of a battering ram, and frame quivering with the vibration engendered of his vehicle, who can dwell on these attractions with full appreciation. Nor is it his more reckless brother, the motorist, who crashes along our country roads, with powers of observation narrowed by hideous binocular vizor, and at a speed whose centrifugal force drives in terror every other wayfarer—chicken, child, woman, or man—to fly like sparks from anvil in all directions, if haply they may even so escape destruction. For him, we might suppose, the fascination must be to outstrip the thunderbolt, not to linger over mundane scenery. But to the man who walks deliberately, and with an observant eye for all about him, to him indeed nature unfolds her choicest treasures. Not only antiquities such as the British, Roman, or Danish camps on the hill sides above him have their special attractions; but the very hedge-rows and banks, with their wealth of flower and of insect life, the quarries with their different fossils, the ice-borne boulders scattered about, and even the local, and often quaint, human characters, whom he may meet and chat with. All these afford him sources of varied interest as well as instruction. The process, again, of antiquarian investigation is absorbing and recuperative, alike to man and matter, bringing to life, as it were, habits and customs long buried in the “limbo” of the past, re-clothing dry bones with flesh, uniting those no longer articulate; like the kilted warriors springing to their feet, on all sides, from the heather, at the signal of some Rhoderick Dhu. Here also, albeit, the recording MSS and folios may be “fusty,” knights of old are summoned up, as by a long forgotten roll-call, to fight their battles over again; or high-born dames and “ladyes fayre,” may unfold anew unknown romances.