London to John O 1 Groats. 277 



to cheer its solitude with their happy voices. The 

 summer breezes came with their softest breath, whis- 

 pering through brake, bush and brier the little 

 speeches of Nature's life. The summer bees came and 

 filled all those heather-purpled acres with their in- 

 dustrial lays, and sang a merry song in the door of 

 every wild-flower that gave them the petalled honey 

 of its heart. All the trained and travelling industrials 

 and all the sweet influences of Nature came and did 

 all they could without man's help to make this great 

 valley most delightful to the eye. But the wolves 

 still prowled and howled ; the briers grew rough and 

 rank ; the grass, coarse and thin ; the heathered hills 

 were oozy and cold in their watery beds ; the clumpy, 

 shrubby trees wore the same ragged coats of moss; 

 and no feature of the scene mended for the better 

 from year to year. 



Then came the great Blind Painter, with his rude, 

 iron pencils, to the help of Nature. He came with the 

 Axe, Plough and Spade, her mightiest allies. "With 

 these he had driven wild Druidic Paganism back mile 

 by mile from England's centre ; back into her dark 

 fastnesses. With the Axe, Spade and Plough he chased 

 the foul beasts and barbarisms from the island. Two 

 centuries long was he in painting this Beautiful Valley. 

 Nature ground and mixed the colors for him all the 



