INTRODUCTION. THE object of this pocket companion to the excursionist is sufficiently indicated by the title, the desire having been throughout to supply a compact and yet compendious guide to the chief places of interest and attraction to be found within a circuit of about thirty miles around the metropolis. Those who are limited in time or purse need not tarry in town on account of distance being necessarily the only condition that "lends enchantment to the view." If they can only steal a few hours from the exigencies of business, they can for the most moderate outlay, that even a little extra dinner indulgence would exceed, be transported by the spirit of steam to some of the rural retreats on the outskirts of our busy Babylon, that will bring them within the sight of scenery as beautiful, and places as fraught with rich historical associations, as though they had been wafted beyond the range of a day's journey. To serve as a gossiping companion by the way, pointing out the remarkable features of an old building, or the purpose for which a modern one has been erected, is the principal aim of our ambition, and if by throwing into our description a little of that discursive matter, which gives a zest to even the shortest trip, an additional pleasure is imparted, the small volume that we have furnished with this design will not be felt as an INTRODUCTION. unwelcome incumbrance to the coat-pocket. We have endeavoured to eschew such unnecessary antiquarian discussions as would prove only superfluous to the cursory visitor, who can find them elaborately detailed in larger works, whenever he shall desire to look for them-and, instead, an attempt has been made to supply precisely that information which will prove of the greatest interest, when the place described is brought under personal notice. Few of a tolerably imaginative temperament have coolly gazed through the medium of a bookseller's shop-window upon some landscape engraving, picturing the beauties of a picturesque spot, without irresistibly having their thoughts directed to the same locality, and their inclination bent on the achievement of an excursion thither. A chance sketch of English scenery, or a county map, casually encountered, has a wonderful tendency to disturb the steady train of our reflections, sending susceptible folks off at once in quest of railway stations, and considerably multiplying the number of pleasure-trips taken during the sunny days of summer and autumn. We would fain give to those thus influenced a few hints about the philosophy of rambling, the best mode of getting enjoyment out of it, and the advantages to be derived from these occasional excursions. A walking-stick, in the first place, is a very serviceable companion, and-in default of a more agreeable one-a little volume of descriptive poetry well chosen, for perusal during the hours of rest and refreshment, gives a . wholesome relish to our appreciation of Nature. We catch the true spirit of many a British bard under these circumstances. In fact, some of the greatest delights of a summer ramble are derived from the association of objects around us with the brilliant thoughts and glowing imagery with which they have been invested by the poets. It should never be said of our wayside wanderer, in the words of one of our most reflective minstrels "The primrose by the river's brim, But we would have him acquire the habit-which a taste for literature easily imparts-of rendering everything he sees suggestive of something that has been said or thought concerning it, and he will by this process find its charms wonderfully multiplied. It is in this ready and heartfelt consciousness of the links that bind animate and inanimate nature together that the charms of a rural excursion really consist. We would thus have our rambler somewhat of a botanist-not a mere expounder of hard names with Walker-only-knows-how-many syllables-but a kind of roadside florist, who can recognise flowering plants by their native English appellations, and would rather leave the violet blooming on its shady bank than ruthlessly dissect it to explore the arrangement of pistils and corolla. A smattering of entomology also, is not by any means to be despised. Your true lover of the country would not even crush a spider in his lair, nor crunch under his ruthless heel the humblest beetle that ever twirled its antennæ in the sun shine. We can then follow the golden-belted bee to his own honeyed home, and lulled by the drowsy humming of his wings, plunge into a dreamy reverie about the internal philosophy of his hive, and start wild comparisons with social communities. We can then enter into the fullest sympathy with butterflies, and share the exuberance of their own apparently intense enjoyment; or, bending over a stagnant pool, we can dabble delightedly in duck-weed, and watch with curious eye the chase of a fugitive aquatic insect by some gawky pirate of the pond, who, after skating along in pursuit of his victim with marvellous celerity of motion, sits gently down in the mud at the bottom and amuses himself by sending up, juggler-fashion, a series of bright bubbling beads to break on the surface as a kind of after-dinner relaxation. There is indeed no limit to the odd fancies which crowd in upon us during these excursive perambulations, enlisting our interest in the veriest trifles, to confess which, at other times, would be a species of avowed insanity. Yet these apparently insignificant items are the sand grains that form the mountain-the component particles of that great aggregate of happiness which may be obtained in-and which we trust all our readers may derive from-a summer day's ramble. Every year when "Summer returns and nature is green, And the cuckoo is heard, and the swallow is seen," |