"E-lam"--for that, and not the more obvious way, is the correct local shibboleth--sits boldly in the lap of the hills, visible afar off. Those who hunt the fox with the East Kent Foxhounds know it well, for the kennels are situated here, but few else have made its acquaintance. It was once--in far-off times, when the ancient and beautiful houses in its one broad street were new--a market-town, and if it has lost its trade it has by no means relinquished its dignity. This is no place to speak at length of Elham church, whose tall tower and tapering spire command the valley, nor is it the place wherein to hold forth upon the library within the church, bequeathed some hundreds of years ago to the good folks of Elham by some old-world benefactor, strong in his belief in the civilising influence of literature when dispensed at the hands of the local clergyman--or perhaps merely anxious to be rid of a mass of useless rubbish. That library is reported to contain a valuable collection of Great Rebellion tracts; but what it does contain no Elhamite can with certainty tell you, because their reading runs in the lines of least resistance--which is equal to saying that they prefer the news columns of their weekly paper to the crabbed literature of that revolution which saved us from Popery more than two hundred years ago. For that reason alone the position of church librarian at Elham is a sinecure. We have, for the purpose of seeing Elham, proceeded a little too far for Acryse, and must retrace our steps, ascending the steep hillsides to the east for that purpose.