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man;

a much-experienced, and had been a much-enduring, and his observations, like those of all such men, were full of shrewd sense and practical wisdom, which are good to listen to. He had also a fine genial humour which lit up his face into a glow; and the smile which then played upon his lips, seemed to gather round his bright grey eye (for he had lost one in his country's service) in a truly significant, remarkable, and healthily-human manner. In his company the hours passed much more quickly than in wandering over the Braunton sands. But, as we used to say at school, Tempus fugit, and the evening is rapidly advancing, and we have yet nine or ten miles to go before our day's ramble is over. So, malgré nous, we must set out. Our host, like a true host as he was, would accompany us as far as the sea, and a most pleasant four-mile walk we had. Too soon we are at the ferry-house; and with a hearty shake of the hand we wished each other good-bye, and a warm "God speed," which I here again reiterate, and trust that his days will be long in the land which the Lord his God has given him.

But how describe that sea-ride from Braunton to Appledore! It was living poetry. There was no moon, but the stars were at their brightest, and the milky-way was a fitting pathway for angels; and down in the north-west was the wonderful heavenly visitor, with his fiery tail, astonishing and delighting us with his beauty. But, more glorious than all, the sea was phosphorescent; and, as we moved along, a *The comet of 1858.

*

stream of living light marked the course of the boat; and as the oars struck in the water, they woke myriads of fiery spots to more than glow-worm or fire-fly brilliancy; and as the rowers raised them out of the sea, a shower of silvery diamond drops fell from them, brilliantly beautiful. We dipped our hands into the sea, and drew them out crowned and tipped, as it were, with minute points of fire. We spattered the water about with our walking-sticks, and our clothes were similarly adorned and decorated. Such a combination of beauty and grandeur rarely occurs. The sky, with its brilliant stars,

"Rolling along like living cars

Of light, for gods to journey by,"

the exquisite loveliness of the Milky Way, the rarely visible "fiery monster with its burning tail,” the sea with its infinite points of fire, "beautiful exceedingly,"-all these combined into one glorious picture of beauty, sublimity, grandeur, and joy. No wonder we regretted to see how rapidly we drew near to the Appledore lights, and reluctantly stepped from the boat to the landing-place of that quaint and peculiar town. The memory of that short ride will never fade.

It was getting late, and we had still about five miles to walk before our eyes would be gladdened by the sight of the fairy-looking bridge of Bideford, with its many arches and many wonders. Still we were in no humour to hurry. A night walk was rather to be desired than not; and the impressions

which the last hour had left on our minds, were subjects for too solemn thought, and speech, and joy, for us to care about time. Slowly Slowly we walked along, sometimes talking, sometimes silent, buried in our own thoughts, giving rein to our fancies, and striving to recall to our mind's eye the scene through which we had just passed. Often, since then, in "waking dreams have I lived o'er again that happy hour;" and with eyes closed, but every other sense wide awake, have pictured to myself the ineffable beauty, the magnificent splendour, and the unutterable glory which were with us on the night of our return from rambling over the village of St. Branock.

232

A RAMBLE WITH ARCHEOLOGISTS.

THE general impression respecting that species of the genus homo called antiquarians and archæologists is not a very favourable one. The popular idea is, that the men given up to the venerable pursuits of hunting for old coins, grubbing about for pilgrims' signs, looking after old, ruinous, and mouldy buildings, deciphering undecipherable inscriptions, copying worn-out and uncopiable figures, burrowing amongst the dust and dirt of ages, worming amongst grubeaten parchments, and finding treasures where other people find only rubbish, are a harmless, dreary, dull set, fit only for companions to an ante-Cheops mummy or a Nineveh bull-tamer. This impression we have many tangible reasons, and some rather strong experimental evidence, to prove an erroneous one. Popular opinion, not always right, is on this subject most decidedly wrong; that is to say, if the days which we have spent with the men of inscriptions, runes, and ruins, are to be taken as proving the contrary. A merrier, pleasanter, jollier, more sociable set we were never amongst. This " round, unvarnished tale" is a record of one of these pleasant rambles with archæologists.

The Birmingham and Midland Archæological

Society resolved to have an archæological trip to a few places of interest near that "great metropolis of the Midland District," as our hustings orators are so fond of calling the town which plainer people call Birmingham, or the plainest call simply and emphatically "Brum." It was a lucky thought; and, ever ready for a ramble at any time, and to any where, we were glad that no prejudices against Dryasdusts prevented us from joining the excursionists. Three large omnibuses were chartered for the occasion; and about an equal number of "knowledge-seeking" gentlemen and "ladies fair" set out in pursuit of antiquarian lore not under difficulties. The first stage of our journey was the pleasantly-situated seat of Earl Bradford, at Castle Bromwich, which the courtesy of its noble possessor threw open to the archæologists and their friends.

The house is a somewhat ancient one, having been built in 1585, some twenty or thirty years earlier than its neighbour, Aston Hall. It is a much smaller mansion than that erected by Sir Thomas Holte, and possesses many of its characteristics. The ceilings are much more florid in their ornamentation; but not anything like such fine specimens either in design or execution. The oak panelling of the great gallery is plainer, and not so good as that in the noble gallery at Aston. The building is, however, a fine specimen of the architecture of the period; and the excellent preservation in which, in consequence of its always being a residence of the family, it now remains, makes a visit to the place one worth pay

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