146 THE SOUTH COUNTRY 



tions of houses, mills and villages, and the reasons for them, 

 and the food supply, and so on, and this in turn leads 

 on to — nay, involves — all that is most real in geography 

 and history. The landscape retains the most permanent 

 marks of the past, and a wise examination of it should 

 evoke the beginnings of the majestic sentiment of our 

 oneness with the future and the past, just as natural 

 history should help to give the child a sense of oneness 

 with all forms of life. To put it at its lowest, some such 

 cycle of knowledge is needed if a generation that insists 

 more and more on living in the country, or spending many 

 weeks there, is not to be bored or to be compelled to 

 entrench itself behind the imported amusements of the 

 town. 



