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Brilly and its Legends.
THE REV. H. J. WHITFELD, L.A.,
LITE OP DOWNING COLLEGE, C.INBRIDGE:
VICAR OF GRASBOROUGII, BUCKS;
Estnat, infelix, angusto in limite regni,
Facsimile reprint 1992
Ta Augustus Smith, Esq.,
LORD PROPRIETOR OF THE ISLANDS OF SCILLY.
My dear Sir,
. I dedicate to you this little Book, not only in gratitude for your kindness, but from admiration of the manner in which you have raised these beautiful Islands from a state of misery into one of prosperity and comfort; reforming wisely, but cautiously; developing their resources with a firm and practical hand; and acting in the true spirit of your motto,
“ Prcignes haleine, tirc fort."
H. J. WHITFELD.
June 10), 1852.
HIS volume has no claim to be considered, nor does it profess to be, one of learning or of
research. It is but a simple record of my first
impressions among strange habits and places, in a no part of the kingdom which is seldom visited by tourists. Ifter a somewhat lengthened residence on the Continent, it was by mere chance that, in search of health, I wandered hither. My stay was like that of the well known traveller in the East, who accompanied a triend to Calais, and remained abroad eighteen years. I came for two or three weeks, and stayed three months. The beauty of the Islands, and the kindness I received at all hands, made those three months the happiest I ever spent in my lite. I have, in this work, attempted some return—though a poor one-for the pleasure I enjoyed; relating only what canie under my own observation; and wishing the good Scillonians no liappier lot than il continuance of their present blessings, under the same wisc and paternal rule.
Scilly and its Legends.
FEW months since, when on my way hither, I read a very clever little work
entitled “ Rambles beyond Railways." Its author, Mr. Wilkie Collins, described with much spirit, before the feeling of novelty had worn off, his early impressions of the far West, and his extreme surprise and amusement at many things which he saw and heard. Indeed, as soon as he was well in this old realm of Cornwall, he found himself in a marvellous strange land.
Every thing was new and striking. He was no longer in the England of yesterday. There, a pedestrian who paid his way handsomely was treated accordingly. Here, boys gaped after him, and their parents called him a “ trodger;” landlords regarded him with a suspicious air, holding him to be a low sort of road surveyor; chambermaids asked him whether he was too good to sleep with a sheet above, and a blanket below, like other folks.* He inquired his way, and was directed to a road that led along
* The same question was put to me.