THE LAND OF BLACKBEREIES. 63 



and the hedges are yet fruitful. There is Epping Forest, whither we 

 went from Stepney at eight years of age " Blackberrying." We knew 

 almost every deU, and cover, and tangled copse, and from any path 

 could lead you direct to the richest garden of Blackberries. We knew 

 the haunts of Hornsey, and Finchley, and Old Ford, — now, alas ! little 

 towns, or appendages to London, — long before we were twelve years 

 of age ; and many a dream of B,obin Hood and Will Scarlet have we 

 dreamt there among the fern, after having sated ourselves, after the 

 fashion of Justice Greedy, — with the blackest of ripe Blackberries. 

 There was always a charm about it, which neither tattered clothes, nor 

 lacerated hands, nor angry looks at home, nor harsh words at school, 

 could ever dispel ; and to compensate for all the sorrows and trials of 

 school drudgery and book education, we had the nobler education to be 

 gained in the land of Blackberries. And now, after having sunned 

 our hearts in the green ways of Saxon poetry, after having held com- 

 panionship with the forests, and bugles, and green hills of Scott, and 

 luxuriated among the lush and leafy coverts of Endymion Keats, 

 besides many fair-spent hours over B,itson and Robert Herrick, how 

 can we refrain from loving Blackberries .'' Blackberries, which speak 

 so winningly of "yellow-girted bees," and "golden honeycombs," and 

 " jagged trunks," and " unseen flowers in heavy peacefulness." Love 

 them ? ay ! and away we go into the thick woods, far from the roar 

 of cities and the tramp of men, far from the soul's prison-house, into 

 the free air of bosky dells, where ragworts and harebells tremble, and 

 the brambles hang their clouds of fruits. 



This time to Cheshunt, fifteen miles from town, in the prettiest part 

 of Hertfordshire. Through the ancient churchyard, glancing at the 

 monuments of the Cromwells and the grassy mounds of many a sturdy 

 Puritan, superseding Hervey's sickly Ifeditations, by thoughts 

 which are always better suggested on the spot. Gathering as we go 

 any precious little gem which may add to the herbarium, we reach 

 Cheshunt House, and refresh our memories with the stories of Wolsey's 

 pride and fall ; thence to the shadow of a great beech in CheshimtPark, 

 to dine upon the grass, and discover a new and most " come-again " 

 flavour in the beef and ham, which, despite our worship of the Black- 

 berries, makes us feel keenly for the Vegetarians. Dinner over, 

 through the green lanes to Goife's Oak, gathering berries as we go, 

 the first handful being ofiered as a libation to the earth, after the man- 

 ner of school-boys and the ancients. At Goffe's Oak we rest for the 



