To rightly see the subjects loyally hastening hither, let any one ascend the church tower on market day.
It is remarkably high, and from thence the various roads converging on the town are visible.

The province lies stretched out beneath.

There is the gleam of water--the little river, with its ancient mills--that flows beside the town; there are the meadows, with their pleasant footpaths.
Yonder the ploughed fields and woods, and yet more distant the open hills.
Along every road, and there are many, the folk are hastening to their capital city, in gigs, on horseback, in dog-traps and four-wheels, or sturdily trudging afoot.

The breeze comes sweet and exhilarating from the hills and over the broad acres and green woods; it strikes the chest as you lean against the parapet, and the jackdaws suspend themselves in mid-air with outstretched wings upheld by its force.

For how many years, how many centuries, has this little town and this district around it been distinct and separate?
In the days before the arrival of the Roman legions it was the country of a distinct tribe, or nation, of the original Britons.