fiercely in the bloody wars of the Red and White Rose; and now and then we come across a grand antique church, crowded by worshippers where the ritual and the language of the worship have undergone many changes, and around whose hallowed precincts have gathered historic traditions and saintly legends, hoarier and older than the lichens that crust the mouldering towers. The tall chimneys are rising in the busy centres of trade, but occasionally we shelter under an oak or a yew-tree whose youth was fanned by less smutty winds; railway whistles have scared the nightingale, but the lark still carols anear human dwellings; graylings no longer leap the river-weir, but the waters sing and gleam as they glide seaward down the hushed moonlit glens. The Calder, one of the most picturesque of northern rivers, rises near Cliviger Dene, in Lancashire, and enters the county of York through a wild gorge at Todmorden. As to the origin of the word there have been many conjectures, some plausible, but none to my mind satisfactory. An able writer in a provincial publication gives the derivation from two Celtic words, _coll_, the hazel-tree, and _dur_, water. The fatal objection to this is that hazel-trees never grew in such abundance in this valley as to be a distinguishing feature. Place-names with the Celtic _coll_ and the Saxon _hæsel_ are very rarely found. Had copses or shaws of the hazel flourished to such an extent as to give a name to the river, their former existence would still be traceable in the abiding nomenclature of the country through which the Calder runs its course. The Rev. Thomas Wright, who published a work on the antiquities of the parish of Halifax, where he was curate for more than seventeen years, noticing the Calder states that the spring is called _Cal_ or _Col_, and is joined by the River _Dar_. This is a purely fanciful supposition, and, I believe, not borne out by facts. Dr. Whitaker urges a Danish derivation. The Danes unquestionably won and maintained a lasting hold on the hills overlooking the Calder. As soon as this mountain-born stream assumes the dignity and proportions of a river at Todmorden, it washes on the one hand Langfield, the Long Range of hills, and on the other Stansfield, the Stony Range, whilst a few miles lower down it flows at the foot of Norland, the North-land--all Danish, or more correctly Scandinavian, terms. Then, on the slopes rising from the south banks, we have Sowerby and Fixby, two ancient “by’s,” where families of predatory Danes took up their abode. Other nomenclature traces of the same nation, of the great Canute himself possibly, might be mentioned in favour of the argument on this side of the question; though (I write from memory) I believe Dr. Whitaker does not point out the surrounding Danish indications I have here advanced. Another historian surmised that the original Celtic name was _Dur_, and that the Saxons on settling in this neighbourhood added the adjective _ceald_ or _cold_. But this is