e precocious child, seeming to look at
nothing, had curiously watched hovering like a hideous spider on the
pounce behind his grime-encrusted window.

It was old associations that led Dickens so often in his walks from
Gadshill Place to Chatham. But the neighbourhood which gave him most
pleasure, combining as it did with similar associations an exquisite
beauty, was, Forster tells us, the sylvan scenery of Cobham Park. The
green woods and green shades of Cobham would recur to his memory even in
far-off Lausanne, and the last walk that he ever enjoyed--on the day
before his fatal seizure--was through these woods, the charm of which
cannot be better defined than in his own description in _Pickwick_:

"A delightful walk it was; for it was a pleasant afternoon in June,
and their way lay through a deep and shady wood, cooled by the
light wind which gently rustled the thick foliage, and enlivened by
the songs of the birds that perched upon the boughs. The ivy and
the moss crept in thick clusters over the old trees, and the soft
green turf overspread the ground like a silken mat. They emerged
upon an open park, with an ancient hall, displaying the quaint and
picturesque architecture of Elizabeth's time. Long vistas of
stately oaks and elm trees appeared on every side; large herds of
deer were cropping the fresh grass; and occasionally a startled
hare scoured along the ground with the speed of the shadows thrown
by the light clouds, which swept across a sunny landscape like a
passing breath of summer."

The mission on which Mr. Pickwick and his two disciples were engaged
was, it will be remembered, to convert Mr. Tupman from his resolution
to forsake the world in a fit of misanthropy, induced by the
faithlessness of Rachel Wardle.

"'If this,' said Mr. Pickwick, looking about him--'If this were the
place to which all who are troubled with our friend's complaint
came, I fancy their old attachment to this world would very soon
return.'"

Mr. Pickwick was right, for when they arrived at the village, and
entered that "clean and commodious village alehouse", the "Leather
Bottle", they found Mr. Tupman set down at a table "well covered with a
roast fowl, bacon, ale, and et ceteras", and "looking as unlike a man
who had taken leave of the world as possible".

The "ancient hall" of Cobham consists of two Tudor wings, with a central
block designe