wode lefe.'" It is unnecessary to point out that the
language we have quoted contains, beyond the statement that warlike
exercises were anciently combined with religious rites, a very
slightly founded surmise, and nothing more.

Another circumstance, which weighs much with Mr. Wright, goes but a
very little way with us in demonstrating the mythological character of
Robin Hood. This is the frequency with which his name is attached to
mounds, wells, and stones, such as in the popular creed are connected
with fairies, dwarfs, or giants. There is scarcely a county in England
which does not possess some monument of this description. "Cairns on
Blackdown in Somersetshire, and barrows near to Whitby in Yorkshire
and Ludlow in Shropshire, are termed Robin Hood's pricks or butts;
lofty natural eminences in Gloucestershire and Derbyshire are Robin
Hood's hills; a huge rock near Matlock is Robin Hood's Tor; ancient
boundary-stones, as in Lincolnshire, are Robin Hood's crosses; a
presumed loggan, or rocking-stone, in Yorkshire, is Robin Hood's
penny-stone; a fountain near Nottingham, another between Doncaster and
Wakefield, and one in Lancashire, are Robin Hood's wells; a cave in
Nottinghamshire is his stable; a rude natural rock in Hope Dale is his
chair; a chasm at Chatsworth is his leap; Blackstone Edge, in
Lancashire, is his bed."[20] In fact, his name bids fair to overrun
every remarkable object of the sort which has not been already
appropriated to King Arthur or the Devil; with the latter of whom, at
least, it is presumed, that, however ancient, he will not dispute
precedence.

"The legends of the peasantry," quoth Mr. Wright, "are the shadows of
a very remote antiquity." This proposition, thus broadly stated, we
deny. Nothing is more deceptive than popular legends; and the
"legends" we speak of, if they are to bear that name, have no claim to
antiquity at all. They do not go beyond the ballads. They are palpably
of subsequent and comparatively recent origin. It was absolutely
impossible that they should arise while Robin Hood was a living
reality to the people. The archer of Sherwood who could barely stand
King Edward's buffet, and was felled by the Potter, was no man to be
playing with rocking-stones. This trick of naming must have begun in
the decline of his fame; for there was a time when his popularity
drooped, and his existence was just not doubted,--not elaborately
maintained by learned historians, and antiquarians