life became a Nonconformist, and went to Boston, in New England. Thence, in his old age, returning home, a violent storm overtook the ship in which he was, when he, never daunted by the fear of shipwreck, triumphantly exclaimed in the hearing of the crew, 'Hey for heaven, hey for heym!'

But it is not in large towns such as Leeds that we can expect to meet with the peculiarities which mark the character of the inhabitants of the outlying villages. Before visiting them, however, it may be as well that we should endeavour to form some general idea of the people of the West Riding. One great distinguishing feature, then, which strikes those who come in contact with them, is the astounding results that frequently attend their enterprises. Keen-witted and sharpsighted as are the men of the manufacturing towns, prudent and cautious, tenacious and persevering, they seldom fail of success in their undertakings, and are not deterred by small risks from embarking in speculations likely to be attended with profit; while power being the quality which they honour above all things, they naturally estimate wealth mainly as an evidence of well-directed exertion on the part of its possessor. The sudden accumulation of riches adequate in a mere monetary point of view to place persons whose commercial operations have been successful on a level with the old county families, is, however, generally unaccompanied with any tendency to civilization; and cases have often occurred, especially in the mining districts, in which a man who has acquired a fortune large enough to enable him to keep his carriage, prefers still to drive his own cart, while neither in dress nor manners can he be distinguished from his labourers. Even when the more ambitious among them venture to spend money upon works of art, it is not because they feel that a 'thing of beauty is a joy for ever,' but because such possessions form good investments, and are in themselves

manifestations of wealth. Not having enjoyed the advantages of education in early life, and being entirely destitute of the refinement which characterizes the aristocratic classes, strange contrasts frequently occur-such as the union of great splendour in their surroundings (their houses being often furnished en prince), with the utmost coarseness of manner, vulgarity of speech, and ignorance of the habits of civilized society. An amusing instance of this kind of thing happened not long ago in a town not very far distant from Leeds. A clothier, whose early days had been spent in a cottage, the principal furniture of which consisted of one or two looms, having suddenly made a large fortune, built himself a handsome mansion, and as soon as it was completed, invited his friends to a splendid banquet. The table was loaded with all the delicacies of the season, while two elaborately-cut crystal decanters, filled with what looked very like gin or whisky, were placed before the hostess. The guests not appearing to appreciate the contents of the bottles, the lady of the house, a comely, buxom dame, was heard to exclaim, Cum, laadies, weant ye tak sum champaign? they say its varry nice stuff, but as for mysen I don't care much about it.'*

It is well known how greatly climate and scenery modify character and modes of life. Nowhere is this influence more clearly visible than in the West Riding, where the features of nature being strongly marked, the character of the inhabitants is strongly marked also. The cold, bracing, ungenial climate; the bold, though seldom picturesque hill and mountain forms; the narrow, secluded valleys; the widespread, monotonous, dreary moorlands; the want of richness and luxuriance in the scenery; the trees, even in sheltered situations, though crowded with leaves, never attaining the height and magnificence which they exhibit in the midland and southern parts of England; the cold, bright hill streams and swift-flowing rivers,—

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all these things tell on the character, and render the people far-seeing, bold, canny, and independent: 'Court maids and widdaz, but no man's favours,' being a maxim they bear ever in mind. They are also essentially a strong race, robust, largeboned, and muscular, and, as a necessary consequence of the bodily vigour which distinguishes them, they enjoy an abundant flow of animal spirits.

Intermarrying from generation to generation among themselves, they have acquired a characteristic type of face and expression of countenance which cannot fail to strike even a superficial observer; caring little, or rather disliking greatly, to associate with strangers, old customs and prejudices are perpetuated among them to a very great extent; self-reliant, and indifferent to the opinion of others, they are bound to each other by a clannish feeling which leads them to resist the intrusion of aliens into their communities. The nil admirari quality they also possess, in common with the North American Indian and the most polished man of the world; take them from the remotest villages, and place them in presence of whatever is most sublime or beautiful in nature or art, and no involuntary expression of pleasure or surprise will escape their lips. This apparent indifference arises partly from a want of imagination, partly from self-esteem: they disdain to admire what they cannot understand, and what they cannot understand they are apt to despise and depreciate. Blunt and rude and vigorous themselves, they have no sympathy with aught that marks refinement of character; and not being troubled with sensitive feelings, they are apt to be negligent of the feelings of their neighbours; but their hearts are in the right place, and they will always be found ready to do one another a good turn. Impatient of cant and intolerant of humbug, they are suspicious, reserved, and inquisitive, nor is it till they have thoroughly gauged the characters of those with whom they may be brought in contact, that they will admit them into their friendship and confidence. How intensely practical they are in their

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views of life, may nowhere be better seen than in a little publication which finds great favour in their eyes, and which is entitled The Bairnsla Fooks' Annual, and Pog Moor Almanack. Here we find the author begging his readers if they 'ask favours, to let it be of onny body but a relashen, for yo may goa ta fifty an happen not find wun at hez owt a t'soart abaght 'em ;' then he advises them 'not to meet trubbles hauf way, for thare not wurth t'compliment.' Again he says, 'Beild, but not yer hoapes on a relashen leavin yo summat to pay t'bills, nor yet cassals i'th'air, for ther is dainger a boath t'beildin an t'beilder tumalin.' Now, he exhorts them to avoid kicking up a dust wi' their nabors; for its stuff atnivver sattles daan hardly, but hings like a claad raund t'doorstan';' and then gives them a sound piece of advice, to the effect that they may 'consult surgeons, but first of all should consult ther senze ta naw whether they realey ail owt or noa, for fancy varry offance macks a bigger dockter's bill than real pain.'

Independent as they are by nature and training in everything which regards secular affairs, they are equally so in all matters connected with religion, which in them savours strongly of Puritanism, and is almost entirely wanting in the element of reverence. They have moreover a strong natural tendency to dissent, and feel but little respect for men who do not profess decided opinions, even those who set both law and conscience at defiance, being nevertheless strict religionists, esteeming faith more highly than they do works. Methodism is rife throughout the Riding, and of the local preachers many amusing stories are told, of which here is a sample:-Some years ago a revival took place in one of the hill villages, when the minister desired the meeting to join him in prayer: after offering the usual supplications, he thought he might venture upon a petition of a more practical nature, and accordingly prayed that the time might quickly come when Guisley would be lighted with gas, and Yeadon (an adjoining village) become a seaport town.

Ignorant and often brutal, rugged

and untractable like their own wild hills and barren moorlands though the men of the West Riding may be by nature, they are, however, susceptible of cultivation, and their manners have undergone to some extent a softening and refining process within the last quarter of a century, under the influence of the clergy, who, when they are moderate, patient, and hard working, need never despair of seeing their labours in some degree crowned with success, though the work they have to perform is of course exceedingly onerous; the state of morals, especially in villages which are partly agricultural, partly manufacturing, being at a very low ebb. On the confines of Lancashire, in particular, where old families, the introducers and nourishers of civilization, are seldom to be found, the manners and morals of the people are degraded in the extreme. The towns and villages of the West Riding are therefore no places for a timid or indolent minister, while they form excellent schools for earnest, active, energetic men, whose hearts are really in their work, and who ever bear in mind that their parishioners care nothing for the Established Church as a church, but are attracted there simply because they expect to hear a good logical sermon. Among the petty manufacturers, a spirit of equality is universal, and having neither superiors to court, nor the amenities of social life to practise, there is a tone of defiance in their manner and speech which to a stranger is repulsive, and which is also a symptom of their tendency towards chartism and dissent. If indeed the people were bound together by some cementing tie, instead of being split up into separate communities, they might become very formidable in a political point of view; as it is, their possession of rapid means of communication, and the circulation among them of Radical publications, would render them, in a time of unsettled government, difficult to manage.

A great change has, however, taken place among the people of the hill districts since the commencement of the present century. Forty years ago the children of the working

classes seldom wore shoes and stockings in summer, and their food was chiefly porridge made of oatmeal and water, with oat cake, which they called Aver bread.' At that period mourning was not often worn at funerals, and even now the gayest dresses and smartest bonnets are sometimes brought out to grace the sad ceremonial. In those days the Sunday attire consisted of a brown or black stuff gown and a scarlet cloak; now the newest fashions, small bonnets, and crinolines, may be seen in almost every village. The majority of the labouring classes were then small farmers, as well as woollen cloth weavers, taking the yarn from their masters to weave at home-a practice which still obtains in some of the manufacturing villages.

It is to one of these, situated some twelve miles north-west of Leeds, that we would now invite our readers to accompany us. Guisley, for that is the name of the village, is a member of the ancient Saxon parish of Otley, and from an early period after the Conquest until the middle of the sixteenth century, was the residence of the Wards, a family of no small consequence in those parts. The church, which they founded, contains on the south side of the nave a beautiful row of columns belonging to the original fabric, and sustaining circular arches. The village itself is situated on high ground, surrounded by still higher hills and moorlands; the climate is cold, bracing, and favourable to health, judging by the longevity to which some of the rectors have attained, one of them having served the church sixty-three years, and another forty-eight; while of John Myers, whilom parish clerk, it is recorded that he filled that office fifty-four years, and rid a light horse in the trained bands of the revolution very briskly four years after his grand climacteric.' population of Guisley consists of between three and four thousand; the people are neither very moral nor very provident, and being all engaged in the same kind of manufacture, when that particular branch is depressed, they all suffer together.

The

There is nothing in the appearance of the village to impress a visitor favourably, yet seeing it,

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as we did first, on the eve of the annual feast, there was an air of smartness and liveliness about it which we afterwards found that it did not possess at any other time of the year. These feasts are institutions common to all the West Riding villages, in some of which they occur twice, thrice, four times a year, sometimes even oftener, while in other places they only take place once. During the week which precedes them all the housewives are busily engaged in scouring their houses, and polishing their tables, and the chest of drawers which invariably forms the chief ornament of the house-place; they are also actively occupied in the preparation of feast-cakes, feasttarts, and other eatables in vogue among them. The feast itself generally lasts a week, and is attended by a great gathering of friends and relatives from all the adjacent villages, who are regaled with cold roast beef and pickled cabbage. For a population of some two thousand, the quantity of meat consumed generally amounts to about eighteen oxen, fourteen calves, and some sheep, though mutton is looked upon rather with contempt. Weddings form a marked feature of these festivities; and we consider ourselves fortunate to have witnessed the manner in which they are conducted. When we entered the church it was already so crowded with people that we found some difficulty in making our way to the rector's pew, whence we had an excellent view of the assembled multitude, the men being attired for the most part in blue cotton blouses, and the women wearing a gay coloured handkerchief tied over their heads in lieu of a bonnet. Anything but a quiet congregation it was, the tumult in fact being so great that the officiating clergyman was obliged to declare in a pretty loud voice that he would not commence the service until silence was established. But although his words were at first attended with a satisfactory result, the length of the ceremony was too much for the patience of the multitude, and long before it conIcluded the hubbub had risen to almost as great a height as ever.

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On this occasion three couples were joined in holy matrimony, two of them being under age, and unable to read or write, and the third considerably advanced in years. It afterwards appeared that the banns of the last mentioned pair had been 'given out' some two months previously, but on the bride elect being congratulated by her neighbours upon her approaching nuptials, she denied that any one had been 'keeping company' with her. She was then told that nevertheless the banns had been published; still she stoutly maintained that it was without her knowledge. The bridegroom was next appealed to, when he at once pleaded guilty, and being asked for the reason of his extraordinary conduct, replied that he had been casting about for a wife, and thinking 'Martha were a likely body,' he had fixed upon her to fill the situation; feeling, moreover, sure she would not refuse the honour he was intending to confer upon her, he thought he might as well put in the askings first and do the courting afterwards, when he should have more time to spare. The lady, however, had no idea of being so lightly won; thence the delay that ensued, though after all she was taken by surprise, for her elderly betrothed happening to see that preparations were making at the church for a wedding, immediately went home, donned his Sunday coat, and then set off to his lady love, and desiring her to put on her best gown, quickly informed her that they were going to be married there and then. No sooner had the bridal party issued from the vestry into the churchyard, which was filled with people waiting their appearance, than they began to cast among the crowd showers of half-pence, for which there was instantly a furious scramble. This is a practice which is never omitted, and great is the demand by the bridegroom for small change which usually takes place a few days before the event comes off. Until very recently it was the custom at these village weddings for the men to have their hats adorned with the gayest ribbons, a fiddler also usually preceded the happy pair, playing all sorts of tunes to enliven their walk to the

one incident

parish church, which was sometimes five or six miles distant. Some who were better off had equestrian weddings, when a race took place, he who arrived first at the bride's home, returning to meet her with a tankard of ale, and receiving the privilege of a salute. Having related illustrative of village courtship, we will venture to add to it another, strictly true and equally characteristic. A rough, good-looking lad of about two or three and twenty years had for some months felt great interest in a village maiden, a certain Milly, who in truth was pretty and fascinating enough, and also well aware of the power her beauty exercised over the susceptible village swains. Up to this time, Jack had admired Milly in secret, though he had confessed to one of his friends that her eyes had gone quite through him, and took the breath out of him, so that he had not a word to say. At last he determined to pay a visit to the cottage which contained his treasure; so one evening he strolled up to the door, lifted the latch, and entered the "houseplace. The father, mother, and Milly being there, he walked quietly towards the fire, and took a seat beside the father, who was engaged in repairing old gearings for his horses, the mother being employed in mending stockings, and Milly trotting about, on household cares intent. An hour passed without a word being spoken by any one; then Milly, having finished her work, sat down by her mother and began to sew, giving an occasional glance at her admirer, which said, as plainly as eyes could do, ‘Now, lad, what hast' come for?' though of course she knew quite well. At last Jack opened his mouth-it must be premised that all this time the cat had been lying asleep on the hearthstone-and thus delivered himself of the result of his meditations. "Yore cat's tail is longer than yares,' or in plain English ours;' which sagacious remark was received in profound silence; it did not indeed appear as if anyone had heard it. Another half-hour passed, when Jack silently took his departure, not another word having been uttered

on either side. After he had gone, Milly quietly observed to her mother, If that's all he can say, hol ha noane of him.' However, there are people who say that Jack will win Milly in the end, notwithstanding her affirmation to the contrary.

Before we turn away from the subjects of courtship and marriage, we may mention an anecdote connected with the latter, showing the talent for repartee with which the people of the West Riding villages appear to be gifted in a remarkable degree. Not long ago, a bridegroom returning home from his wedding, was met by a friend, who thus addressed him. Well, Jack, I'm glad to see thee in thy happy position, thou'st seen the end of thy trubble now.' 'Thank thee, lad,' was Jack's answer, 'I hope I have.' About a month afterwards the two friends again met, when Jack, speaking rather warmly, exclaimed, ' Bill, thou telled me a lie that morning I got wed! Didn't thou say I'd seen th'end of my trouble?' 'I did,' said Bill; but I didn't tell thee which end.'

One of the most curious peculiarities prevailing amongst the people of the hill villages, is the habit of giving strange patronymical names to each other, so that a man is seldom known by his legal surname. This practice is a very ancient one. Thoresby tells us that in his time a pious and ingenious person, his kinsman by marriage, was but the second of his family who had continued the same surname, which had till then been varied, as the Christian name of his father was, though they were persons of considerable estates. His grandfather Peter being the son of William, was called Peter Williamson, his father being called William Peterson; which continued till the year 1670, when the family assumed the name of Peters. He then goes on to say, 'in the vicinity of Halifax it is yet pretty common among the ordinary sort.' A friend of mine, asking the name of a pretty boy that begged relief, was answered it was William a Bills, a Toms, a Luke. And the ingenious gentleman afore-mentioned, asking for Henry Cockroft, could hear of no such person, though he was within bow-shot of the house, till at length