R

AFIELD WITH JEFFERIES.

In summer when the shawes be shene,
And leaves be large and long,

The wood-wele sang, and wolde not cease,
Sitting upon the spray.

Ballad of Guy of Gisborne.

EPOSING in one of the double tran

septs of the most symmetrical of English cathedrals, the ancient fane at Salisbury, is a marble bust typifying a face remarkable for its strength and charm in repose, at once the effigy of a poet, artist, and thinker, in whom the perceptive quality of beauty and inherent love for the beautiful are revealed by every feature. Calm and majestic, thoughtful and serene, it is a countenance that arrests the beholder, and haunts him, like some sweetly cadenced strain, long after the richly dight spire and hallowed Close of Salisbury have receded from the view. Upon the pedestal is graven this inscription:

TO THE MEMORY OF RICHARD JEFFERIES, BORN AT COATE IN THE PARISH OF CHISELDEN AND COUNTY OF WILTS, 6th NOVEMBER, 1848.

DIED AT GORING IN THE COUNTY OF SUSSEX, 14th AUGUST, 1887.

WHO OBSERVING THE WORK OF ALMIGHTY GOD WITH A POET'S EYE,

HAS ENRICHED THE LITERATURE OF HIS COUNTRY, AND WON FOR HIMSELF A PLACE AMONGST

THOSE WHO HAVE MADE MEN

HAPPIER AND WISER.

To those who know his work and the character and history of the man, this tribute must appear as touching as the epitaph. of The Elegy. And perhaps its modest sentiment, reflecting his own modest nature, is sufficient, his work lives after him and speaks more potently than any memorial that man may frame.

Entering Wiltshire from Dorsetshire, the landscape broadens; and though, like most of the southern counties, a country radiant with verdure, it may be questioned whether it is equal in pastoral attractiveness to Dorset, or in romantic loveliness to Hants, Kent, or Sussex. South-down sheep browse upon its countless chalk-downs, softly outlined in distant haze; and sleek-coated cattle graze

amid the luxuriant herbage of its lowlands. Charlock and poppy stain its fields with gold and scarlet; while its hedgerows and thatches and ancient churches lend their ever-present grace to its rural scenes. This is the region of Wild Life In A Southern County, a country more minutely described than almost any other portion of England; though in the Wiltshire author's extended series of rural pictures, it should be remembered the scenes are also laid at Somerset, Devon, Middlesex, Surrey, and Sussex, and even close to the metropolis. itself.

But to say that Wiltshire has been thus minutely portrayed were nothing exceptional of itself. Minute description is a relative quantity, depending upon numerous accessories before it becomes vitalized and endowed with a lasting quality. These essentials were inherent in Jefferies, who, throughout his references to Nature and Nature's works, conveyed his observations with the feeling of the poet and æsthetic sense of the artist.

For though prose was his chosen vehicle of expression, he was at heart a poet; while, had he painted with pigments instead of tracing his impressions on the printed page,

he must have won a foremost name among the distinguished masters of the brush. The attributes of a painter, a great painter of landscapes, - he possessed pre-eminently. To him belonged the apprehension of form, thorough knowledge of perspective, a keen imaginative sense, quick perceptive powers, an abiding love of the beautiful, and lastly, most highly developed of all his faculties, an intense sensibility for colour and understanding of tone. This latter quality constitutes the most striking trait of Jefferies' writings, apart from his phenomenal observation and the strong element of human sympathy characteristic of all his work.

Nor is this passion a mere love for effects, akin to the decorative element of art; but rather a sensuous pleasure in the contemplation and study of colour for itself alone. Colours in Nature delighted his æsthetic sense and appealed to his artistic temperament as a piece of antique Chinese glaze or the hues entangled in an Eastern carpet delight the virtuoso. To him the smallest grass-blade contributed a note to the general harmony; every day the mead was enamelled anew and its green seen for the first time.

To the question, "What is the colour