f the
tenth legion bore the eagle of Caesar to the shore amid the cries of the
opposing Britons; and of the still more signal day when Augustine
displayed the cross before the eyes of the softened and repentant Saxons.
We think too of the beings with whose memories Shakspeare has peopled this
portion of the Isle; of Lear and Cordelia, of Edgar, Gloster, and Kent; of
that night of horrors upon the stormy heath, and that scene of unutterable
tenderness and heart-break on the sands of Dover. Unbidden, as we gaze
over the fair and varied prospect, the words of the same great dramatist
rise to our lips, in his appropriation of the sentiments and language of
the first conqueror of Britain:

'Kent in the commentaries Caesar writ,
Is termed the civil'st place of all this isle;
Sweet is the country because full of riches,
The people liberal, active, valiant, wealthy.'

[1] This route leads, among other villages, through that of
Sevenoaks, famous as the place where Jack Cade and his rabble
overthrew the forces of Stafford, in the very same year,
(1450,) when Faust and Gutenberg set up the first press in
Germany, and long, therefore, before Cade could have justly
complained, as Shakspeare has made him do, that the Lord Say
had 'caused printing to be used' in England, and 'built a
paper-mill.' But who taxes the sun for his spots or Shakspeare
for anachronisms? He who was born to exhaust and imagine
worlds, cannot of course be denied some innocent liberties
with chronology. The village in question, however, is more
interesting to travellers from being in the vicinity of Knole,
the fine old seat of the dukes of Dorset. The stranger is led
here through long galleries garnished with furniture of the
time of Elizabeth and hung with portraits which at every step
recall names of the deepest historical interest. Who can ever
forget that which hangs or hung over the door of Lady Betty
Germaine's chamber? It is Milton in the bloom of manhood, and
the immortal epic seems to be just dawning on those mild and
pensive features. One chamber, of sumptuous appointments
remains, (so runs the legend,) as it was last tenanted by
James I., no head less sapient or august having been since
permitted to press the pillow. In another every thing stands
as it was