My Last Day in the Fen, 255 



and mortify my flesh to things below, I should not take up my resi- 

 dence in the fen ; for harder riders, better shots, and a more jovial, 

 rollicking set than the fen farmers of my day it would be hard to 

 meet with. The welcome, certainly, is as hearty as of yore 3 but I 

 fear the bright eyes of some of the fen women of the present day 

 would upset the theory, and play sad havoc with the ascetic maxims 

 of even so rigid a disciplinarian as William himself. 



I recollect in my time the question of ever being able to drain 

 the mere was a point often under discussion, and although many 

 enterprising minds never for a moment doubted the practicability of 

 such a scheme, others of surer dispositions shook their heads, and 

 appeared to think with Camden, " that it is tlie safest plan to fol- 

 low the oracle's advice in the like case, and not to venture too far 

 where Heaven has put a stop." But had old Camden lived till the 

 go-ahead nineteenth century, his opinion might probably have 

 changed 5 and I can fancy the venerable historian would open his 

 eyes widely were he to wake up from his long sleep (after the 

 manner of '^'Nimrod's" old gentleman in the Quicksilver mail) 

 and find himself some fine morning whisked into Whittlesea in a 

 quick train, and his trance broken by the civil request of the green- 

 coated guard, "Whittlesea, gentlemen j tickets, if you please." 



As a matter of national benefit, there can be no doubt of im- 

 mense advantages to be derived by bringing this waste land into 

 cultivation. But looking upon it with the eye of a sportsman or 

 naturalist, I must say I always feel regret when I see these wild 

 districts reclaimed ; for so little now remains to prove to us the 

 original state of our island, and there are now so few spots in Eng- 

 land where the sportsman or naturalist can wander free and unmo- 

 lested away from the busy haunts of men, and look upon nature in 

 her original state. To a cosmopolite like myself, this matters little, 

 for, happily, there are many other countries where I can always 

 pitch my tent in the forest or on the moor, with but little chance 

 of annoying my next neighbour. But let the sport be what it may 

 in a foreign land, it still wants the charm of home association to 



