12 VILLAGE ENGLAND 



the regularity of a Kant. I see him as a tree walking. He 

 belonged to the lane as the elm belonged to the pond. 

 But even trees fall. He was afterwards found in his chair 

 asleep, dead. His wife, good woman, who had known 

 &quot; the quality &quot; in her time, survived him, but without his 

 prop her mind was not strong enough to bear her weight 

 of years. With them an age departed. Will the life of 

 the village, the character of the villagers, be as worth 

 remembering in the age that begins ? 



The slow quietude of their life and their continuous 

 touch with realities have bred wisdom in the true country 

 men, however humble and limited their life, and a 

 singular perfection in manners. Their knowledge of 

 character is quick and instinctive ; and gives them an 

 inherent tact, apparent perhaps only to those who live 

 among them. I remember some very raw and raucous 

 trippers from overseas on a visit to an antique village, 

 asking sudden abrupt questions, but taking little or no 

 human notice of the persons they interrogated. When 

 finally they made off, a labourer who had answered some 

 of their silly questions looked sadly at their retreating 

 backs and said, like a reformer regretting the backward 

 ness of civilisation, &quot; They are so unmannerly.&quot; There 

 was a protesting surprise in his emphasis on the word. 

 He spoke not in anger but in melancholy wonder ; and 

 he spoke in beautiful English. You cannot spend any 

 part of day with such countrymen and not be put into 

 touch with a wise reality or two. Compared with other 

 people in less natural places they are like Meredith s 

 Wedded Woman. They have 



&quot; Struck the roots which meet the fires 

 Beneath, and bind us fast with Earth, to know 

 The strength of her desires, 

 The sternness of her woe.** 



