t Peacham* for his textbook, instead of Chesterfield: he
determined, in his own mind, that there was no condition more truly
honourable and enviable than that of a country gentleman on his paternal
lands, and, therefore, passes the whole of his time on his estate. He is
a strenuous advocate for the revival of the old rural games and holiday
observances, and is deeply read in the writers, ancient and modern, who
have treated on the subject. Indeed, his favourite range of reading is
among the authors who flourished at least two centuries since; who, he
insists, wrote and thought more like true Englishmen than any of their
successors. He even regrets sometimes that he had not been born a few
centuries earlier, when England was itself, and had its peculiar manners
and customs. As he lives at some distance from the main road, in rather
a lonely part of the country, without any rival gentry near him, he has
that most enviable of all blessings to an Englishman, an opportunity
of indulging the bent of his own humour without molestation. Being
representative of the oldest family in the neighbourhood, and a great
part of the peasantry being his tenants, he is much looked up to, and,
in general, is known simply by the appellation of 'The Squire;' a title
which has been accorded to the head of the family since time immemorial.
I think it best to give you these hints about my worthy old father, to
prepare you for any little eccentricities that might otherwise appear
absurd."

* Peacham's "Complete Gentleman," 1622.

We had passed for some time along the wall of a park, and at length the
chaise stopped at the gate. It was in a heavy, magnificent old style,
of iron bars, fancifully wrought at top into flourishes and flowers.
The huge square columns that supported the gate were surmounted by the
family crest. Close adjoining was the porter's lodge, sheltered under
dark fir-trees, and almost buried in shrubbery.

The post-boy rang a large porter's bell, which resounded through the
still, frosty air, and was answered by the distant barking of dogs,
with which the mansion-house seemed garrisoned. An old woman immediately
appeared at the gate. As the moonlight fell strongly upon her, I had
full view of a little primitive dame, dressed very much in the antique
taste, with a neat kerchief and stomacher, and her silver hair peeping
from under a cap of snowy whiteness. She came curtseying forth, with
many expressions of simple joy at se