On the Box Seat from London to Land's End ... With ... illustrations by the author

Front matter

WORKS BY THE SAME AUTHOR. A DRIVE THROUGH ENGLAND; OR, A THOUSAND MILES OF ROAD TRAVEL. By JAMES JOHN HiSSEY. With Twenty full-page Illustrations from the Author's Skelcl c engraved by George Pearson. In One Vol. Demy Svo. 16s. AN OLD-FASHIONED JOURNEY THROUGH ENGLAND AND WALES By JAMES JOHN HISSEY. In One Vol, Demy Svo. vsith Frontispiece, Trice l us. so Memo's §n& PRINTED BY SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE LONDON THE GEORGE HOTEL, GLASTONBURY {See /*■(/(- 3G9. ON THE BOX SEAT $vom Bonbon to Memo's <Enb BV JAMES JOHN HISSEY AUTHOR OF 'AN OLD-FASHIONED JOURNEY* 'a DRIVE THROUGH ENGLAND* ETC. ' Life has little better to offer than this ' Dr Johnson to Boswell mhilst posting across country WITH SIXTEEN FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS BY THE AUTHOR LONDON RICHARD BENTLEY & SON, NEW BURLINGTON STREET publishers in Orbrnant to £jcr |ttajsstn the (tjnctn 1886 [A 11 r igh ts reserved] TO THE FONDLY CHERISHED MEMORY OF MY LOVING WIFE "Somewhere is comfort, somewhere joy, Though thou in outer dark remain, One sweet sad voice ennobles death, And still for eighteen centuries Sayeth softly ' Ye meet again ' '

Preface

. Railways have killed road travel, and the present generation little knows its loss. England — rural England, that is — away from busy towns, railways, and tourist-haunted regions, where big hotels abound, and where enterprise has done its best to mar its original unaffected beauty, is indeed a very pleasant land, one surely as well worth exploring as the everlasting Continent. Hidden away in it, odd nooks and corners are to be found, quaint unsophisticated people, old-time towns and villages that might be foreign but for the names around, unheeded beauty spots, and last but by no means least, many an old-fashioned hostel, comfortable and cosy, vAth good-natured landlord or motherly landlady, who will make the traveller heartily welcome, and entertain him perchance as well with a delightful chat about past times, or retail to him the local gossip, and recount for his special benefit the country family

PREFACE.

VIII traditions — worth hearing these oftentimes. Such are some of the good things reserved for the fortunate traveller by road. The scenery of rural England is truly idyllic, a per petual poem. Full of homeliness, mellow, essentially lovable, eye-refreshing and heart-delighting, it never fails to please. But to know it you must journey along the old highways and by-ways (so deserted now) either driving or afoot, whichever opportunity or inclina tion may dictate, but go by road you must. No Englishman knows the real beauties of his birthland who has not done this ; and what glorious prospects, what miles upon miles of ever changing loveliness, do not these old roads afford ! Rushingthrough the country by rail, stopping at fashionable resorts, exploring for ever the old beaten tracks, will no more reveal what Old England is like, than a drive down Gower Street would tell a stranger what sort ofa city London was.

Small though Britain is, its marvellous wealth of ever varying beauty perfectly astonishes me. For years past now have I driven hither and thither about in it, and the more I see of my native land the more I feel there is to see. I have not yet, full well I know, exhausted a tithe of its beauties. Truly, as Emerson says, ' it would take a hundred years to do so ;' and that

PREFACE.

IX would not, I venture to say, suffice. I know I write as an enthusiast, and due allowance must be made for the fact ; but taking this into ' consideration, I think it a thousand pities we do not travel less abroad and more at home. It is true that during our journey we touched now and again upon well-known ground. This was inevit able ; but between such spots stretch endless pano ramas of scenic loveliness, almost wholly unseen since the railways came into the land — unknown even to exist, I will venture to assert, to thousands of worthy Britons, who have explored all lands but their own, from far-off Japan to foreign realms nearer home. Ours was surely an ideal holiday, always in the midst of beautiful scenery, masters of our time and conveyance, free from fatigue, the worry of luggage, the bondage of time tables, and the hundred and one petty annoyances that beset the ordinary traveller.

The illustrations, I trust, may add to the interest of the book. These, with one or two exceptions, are not those of well-known places, often painted, much en graved, and photographed by the thousand — scenes by all these means multiplied exceedingly, and thus made as familiar almost as our every-day surroundings. Rather have I chosen from my sketch book those odd

PREFACE.

X out-of-the-way bits, none the less beautiful because so little known or famed — the more to be appreciated, I trust, for their freshness. I have to express my in debtedness to Mr. Pearson for the feeling and successful manner in which he has rendered my drawings. J. J. H. South Kensington: 1886. J'AGE I 1 6 3: CONTENTS.

Chapter I

Our Journey planned — The pleasantest Way of Travelling— On the Road — Green Fields versus Bricks and Mortar — A fine Day — Barnes Common — A House with a History — Richmond Park — Sketching Grounds near London — An extensive Prospect — Kingston-on-Thames — An ancient Stone — Leatherhead — Burford Bridge — A peculiar River — Thoughts of the Past — Historic Ground — Old Coach Roads .

Chapter II

Dorking — The Original of the Marquis of Granby — A famous Character — The Pleasures of the Unknown — Wild Surrey — Hindhead Hill — The Virtue of Distance— Americans and English Scenery — A Heath Land — The Music of the Woods — An eccentric Economist — A Rural Church — A curious Will — A Relic of Charles I. — An Englishman's Home not his Castle — Evelyn's Diary — Devil's Mills — 'Hammer' Ponds — A primitive Village — A Whipping Post — Strange Coincidences — An ideal Hamlet — Old-World Interiors — A famous unsought Battle — Fiction and Fact — ' Mummy ' Wheat ......

Chapter III

A Spot to be remembered — Ancient Trees— An elevated Chapel— A Pilgrim's Way — A ' Colourless Land ' — The Beauties of the Gorse — An Anecdote of Linnæus — Thoughts on Landscape Painting — Guildford — Old Houses — A Tradition — An antique Building — The Hog's Back — Peculiarity of Surrey and Sussex Hills — The Variety of Scenery in England — Travellers make their own Welcome — A Chat with a Bicyclist CONTENTS XII PAGE Si 69 90 1 10

Chapter IV

In a Hop Country— Hops versus Vines— The Romance of the Unknown— A Botanical Puzzle— An Age of Marvels— Philosophers and Facts— Lovable Scenery— An American's Opinion of English Hedges— A highly prized Flower — Alton— A Stormy Sunset— The Scenery of Cloudland— An old Coaching Bill — Relic Bargaining— The Country after Rain— A Pleasant Land- Man's Handiwork in Nature — An old Milestone .

Chapter V

Alresford — An Enigma — A Country Town— Sightseeing — A Road Monster — The Choice of an Inn — Winchester — A Warning for Tourists — The Picturesque at Home and Abroad — Relics — Kingly Meanness — A Verger's Story — An Ancient Dole — A Thunderstorm — Difficult Driving — Southampton — Nature as a Painter — English Forests — Highways and Country Lanes — An Enchanted Land — The Truth about Rufus's Death — Lyndhurst — A Spot for Honeymooners .....

Chapter VI

Old Work and New — Forest Frequenters — A Pseudo-Relic — Brica-brac Hunting — A strange Collection of Curiosities — Woodland Silence and Solitude — An old Farmstead — The Beauty of Age in Buildings — A Gipsy Encampment — A Gipsy's Life — Christchurch — An old Minster — Village Churches — A Desecrated Chapel — Bournemouth — Luxurious Quarters — A Quarrelsome Couple — Pine Woods — Imagination and Sentiment — A hardworked Clergyman — Corse Castle — Poole — Tales of Smugglers — Wareham — A Town of the Past ....

Chapter VII

An Evening Drive — Country Odours— Sunsets — A lonely Road — A Hermit ofa Dwelling — In the Gloaming — Hotel Bills — Weymouth — The Road Traveller's ' Bradshaw ' — Inn Names— Cosy Cottages— An ideal Land— Mind Pictures— Country Homes- Maiden Castle— A prehistoric Relic— Moonland — Winterbourn Abbas— Origin of the Names of Places— A Druids' Circle — A rough Road— The old Highways— The varying Charms of a Landscape— Painting from Nature— A tired Tricyclist— Bridport ..... CONTENTS XIII PAGE 131 '55 176

Chapter VIII

A hilly County — Charmouth — An Anecdote of Charles II. — How History is sometimes ready made — A Story of our Road in the old Coaching Days — Tales of the old Times — Ancient Hostels — A Tunnel on the Way — Dorsetshire Distances — The Value of Ostlers' Information — Axminster — A finished Town — Churchyard Inscriptions — An uncharitable Epitaph — The Way to Gain Health — Nature's Revelations — Grotesque Trees — A splendid Prospect — Guideless Wandering — Undiscovered Britain— A Sunset — A deserted Cottage — Travelling in the Past and Present — England of To-Day and the Long-Ago

Chapter IX

An old Coaching Inn — A curious Conveyance — Queen Elizabeth's Physician — ' The fairest County in England ' — An Artists' Paradise — Devonshire Cottages — Old-fashioned Flowers — A pleasant Land — Exeter and Cathedral — Guides — A beautiful Window — Ancient Monuments — The Restorer and his Works — Historic Buildings — Starcross — Exmouth — A sandy Waste — Where Danby, R.A, Painted — A Wayside Puzzle — Dawlish

Chapter X

A Toy Village — Red Cliffs — Exploring a Devonshire Valley — Narrow Lanes — Horse Bells — Primitive Travelling— An Animal's proper Pride — A Smuggler's Lane — A Tale of the Past — Weatherworn Rocks — Teignmouth — Ugly Churches — Beauty and Ugliness — A Devonshire River — The longest Bridge in England — A breezy Drive — Torquay — Poole's Cavern — A fine Marine Drive — In Search of a Ruin — A Camp-out — Rural Hospitality — The Cream of Scenery — A Disappointment — The Drawback of knowing too much — The old Devon Sea-Dogs — A late Drive — Totness ........

Chapter XI

The Music of a running River — The Dart and the Rhine — Unjust Comparisons — English versus Foreign Scenery — Dartmouth — A Native's Opinion of his Home — An Old-World Town — A romantic River — A cruel Husband — Picturesque Totness — Towns and their relation to Scenery — Sleepy Ashburton — Dull CONTENTS XIV VAGE 199 221 246 269 Devonshire ! — An Ostler's Warning — Devonshire Antiquities and Legends — Over Dartmoor in a Thunderstorm — A Wet Drive— Grand Cloud-scapes — The March of a Mountain Storm — Moorland Mists — Dartmoor Ponies— Our Man's Opinion of the Devon Moor .......

Chapter XII

Traditions of Dartmoor — A Grim Story — Tavistock — Monks and Scenery — A Goth — Old Bridges — A Miraculous Escape — A Hilly Town— A Wild Bit of Road— Boscastle— The Cornish Coast — A planless Place — An Old- World Legend — We come across a Character — King Arthur's Castle — The Mystery of the Sea — Old Trevena — An ancient Saxon Church — Cornish Fanes — A practical Locality — The highest Mountain in Cornwall ! — Where King Arthur fell — Camelford — Weather Vanes — Penryn — Prehistoric Enigmas — Moorland Scenery, its Solitude and Silence —Curious Rocks .......

Chapter XIII

Helstone — The History ofa Name — A Holiday without Expense — Kynance Cove — A Lovely Bay — The Sea — The ' Fatal Gift of Beauty ' — Serpentine Rocks — The Advantages of being able to Draw — A Universal Language — The most Southern Point of England — The Smugglers of old, their Haunts and Doings — ■ A curious State of Affairs — Tales of Modern Shipwrecks — A Haunted Country — Tregeagle and his Works — The Cornish Heather — A Chat with an old Sailor — Daring Deeds — England's Seamen — St. Michael's Mount — A Wonder-working Chain and Well — Marazion — Penzance — The Logan Rock — A Regular Nuisance — Our ultima Thule .....

Chapter XIV

The Land's End — A glorious Sea-scape — A stormy Night — In Devon again — Newton Abbot— An Old-World Village — A peaceful Spot — The Charms of a rural Hostelrie — Hard to Please— A terrible Curse — Devonshire Roads — Scenery free to all A primitive Town — Belated — The Influence of Scenery — Cha^ford Country Quarters — Farmhouse Apartments — Chance Wanderings—A Chapter of Accidents — Rough Driving — In Search of an Inn — A remote Part of the World CONTENTS XV PAGE 292 313 335 359

Chapter XV

Picturesque Villages— A wild Country— A gruesome Spot— Inn Names—' All's well that ends well' — An Angler's Head-quarters —A Fisherman's Holiday — A peaceful Valley— A Picture Dealer's Advice — Old Hostelries — The peculiar Advantages of Devonshire Towns — Barnstaple — Barum Ware — Bideford — A wonderful Bridge — The 'Hobby Drive' — Clovelly— A curious Street — Bric-a-brac Hunting — Old Books — Local Papers

Chapter XVI

Ilfracombe — The Capstone Hill — The English Climate — A tiny Inn — A never-failing Repast — Horses on the Road — Changing Scenery — Lynton — The Valley of the Rocks — Exploring — Fir Forests — Puzzling Roads — Lynmouth — A comfortable Hostel — Up the Lyndale — An Artist's and Angler's Paradise — A pleasant Occupation — A stiff Climb — Exmoor — Moorland Scenery — A Sea Picture — Gulls and their Flight — Man and Nature

Chapter XVII

An Englishman's Prerogative — An unsophisticated Boniface — Lovely Lynmouth — A Chat with a modern Builder — A Wayside Glen — South Molton — Works of Art — A Cure for Deafness — The Pleasure of Driving for Driving's Sake — The Carriage for Road Work — Unknown England — An Artist's River — Bampton — New Wine in Old Bottles — Town in Country — Wiveliscombe — Milverton — Taunton — Town Hotels versus Country Inns — A fine Church — Bridgewater — A Speciality — The Beauties of the Clouds — A Foxhunting Squire — The last Battle on English Ground — Glastonbury — An ancient Hostel — A ghostly Chamber.

Chapter XVIII

An historical Hostelrie — Old-World Legends — A strange Ending to a Sale — Glastonbury Abbey — Monks and Miracles — A marvellous Tree — King Arthur's traditional Tomb — The Monastic Life of Old— Tor Hill—' The Island Valley of Avilion '—Wells — A romantic Town — Scenery ideal and real — The Mendips — Caverns — An Underground World — The Witch of Wokey Hole— Cheddar Cliffs— Living Rocks— A dull Watering- Place— A Puzzle— The Sea-Serpent— Clevedon— Clifton— Bristol— Bath Box Hill— 'A Land of Milk and Honey'— An old Coaching Town— Past Days— A kind hearted Doctor a CONTENTS XVI PAGE 383 403

Chapter XIX

Multum in Parvo — Prehistoric England — Marlborough — An ideal Hostel — An old Curiosity Shop — A Bargain indeed — A Chat with a Commercial Traveller — A peculiar Sign — A bleak Stage — A Steam-driven Age — The Farm of the Future — Where St. George killed the Dragon — Faringdon — The History of an old English Town — Ancient Monuments — A bold Challenge — A headless Ghost — Primitive Pit Dwellings — A strange Relic — A very antique Horn — Abingdon — Mists and Fogs — Wokingham — Virginia Water — Home ...... INDEX LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. THE GEORGE HOTEL, GLASTONBURY . . . Frontispiece A SURREY COMMON . . . . . . To face page l8 A BIT OF WILD HAMPSHIRE . . . „ 47 A WAYSIDE WINDMILL . . . . . . „ 65 A BY-PATH IN THE NEW FOREST . . . . „ 87 AN OLD ENGLISH FARMSTEAD . . . . . „ 98 AN OLD-TIME HOSTEL . . . . „ 1 39 ON THF.

ROAD . . . . . „ 1 53 A DEVONSHIRE LANE ...... I92 ON THE BORDER OF DARTMOOR . . . . „ 211 BOSCASTLE . . . . . ■ „ LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS xviii THE LAND'S END ..... To face page 27 1 A DEVONSHIRE TROUT STREAM . . . . „ 299 LYNMOUTH BRIDGE . . . . ,, 325 AN OLD MILL . . . . . „ 35 ' A VILLAGE INN, CLANFIELD, NEAR FARINGDON . . „ 392 REPRODUCTION OF TWO PAGES FROM OLD ROAD BOOKS . II 7, 1

Chapter I

Our Journey planned— The pleasantest way of Travelling — On the Road — Green Fields versus Bricks and Mortar — A fine Day — Barnes Common — A House with a History — Richmond Park — Sketching Grounds near London — An extensive Prospect — Kingston-on- Thames — An ancient Stone — Leatherhead — Burford Bridge — A peculiar River — Thoughts of the Past — Historic Ground — Old Coach Roads. Where shall we go this year ? This was the question my wife asked me one summer evening. We were tired of the noise and bustle of town ; we longed to exchange its smoke-laden atmosphere and dusty streets for the fresh green fields and pure blue skies of the free open country, to enjoy the restful quiet of rural sights and scenes, to breathe once again the unpolluted air, to get beyond the reach and worry of letters and telegrams, and to be relieved for a time from the many restraints and conventionalities of society.

Each summer for some years past we had taken driving tours, extending for some hundreds cf miles through different portions of Great Britain, being away from home for two or three months upon each of such occasions ; and most thoroughly did we enjoy our holidays on wheels, wandering uncontrolled whither we would. A more delightful or a more independent B way of travelling— at least, so to us it seemed — there could not be. Not, therefore, how we should go, but only where, was the question to be discussed. Havino* decided that the time had arrived on which to start upon our summer outing, the corner in the library where sundry road and guide books lay con cealed was duly ransacked, various maps were looked up, and a long and delightful discussion ended in our selecting Devonshire and Cornwall as our ultimate destination.

Our route, it was determined, we would settle upon in detail each day as we progressed and circumstances might dictate. Perfect freedom was our motto ; we did not wish to be bound down by any prearranged plan or plans ; that would have been con trary to the very spirit of the journey, and have spoilt its special charm. No ; we would be thoroughly in dependent ; would go where we liked, start when we chose, and rest when and where we pleased. Such freedom was the essence of our tour. The very thought of our expedition brought before us visions of bright green fields, of far-stretching breezy moorlands, with their tonic-laden air, of winding country roads and tree-shaded rural lanes, of picturesque villages, of quaint old-world restful hostelries, of gurgling streams and peacefully flowing rivers, of resinous scented pine woods and heather-clad wilds, of time worn ruins and ancient manors, of comfortable-looking farmhouses and peaceful homesteads that — away from railways and the busy haunts of men — abound through out this favoured land.

Of all the different methods of travel, driving by road is surely the most natural and pleasurable. By railway you are simply conveyed from place to place ROAD versus RAIL 3 much as a parcel is ; you have no command over your conveyance ; you are wholly at the tender mercy of time tables. On it you are whirled through space at so many miles an hour — the faster the better — who ever travels by rail for the mere pleasure of travelling ? Such speed is of course delightful to those who simply wish to arrive at the end of their journey with as little delay as possible ; but for the man who desires to see and really know something of the country through which he passes, with its ever-changing scenes and incidents, the rail is but a poor substitute for the road. Slow indeed compared to the iron steed is the speed of the fastest horse ; slow to us now seems the haste of the departed mail coach ; slower still was our method of travelling, limited, as we were, both in pace and distance to the endurance of our horses.

But still for all this we travelled as fast and as far per diem as we wished ; indeed, generally we found our time all too short for the many things there were to do and see each day. We did not reckon the beauties of the scenery by the amount of ground traversed ; nor did we journey guide book in hand to complete any definite itinerary. We travelled above all to enjoy our selves, and we did so. Twenty miles a day (our ave rage distance), granting one day's rest in seven to the horses, gives a hundred and twenty miles a week, or over five hundred miles a month ; and a drive of twenty continuous miles through almost any English county affords a wealth of beauty, experiences, and scenes enough surely to satisfy the most devoted sightseer. Perhaps the pleasantest and quickest way out of the west end of the wilderness of brick and stucco that composes modern London is over Hammersmith B Bridoe, thence across Barnes Common, and so on through Richmond Park, joining the old high roads beyond.

And this was the route we selected by which to start upon our summer wanderings. It is with a feeling almost amounting to sadness I have noticed how steadily, year by year, the green fields are being swallowed up by the inevitable progress of bricks and mortar, town everlastingly encroaching upon the country, beauty continually being overwhelmed by ugliness. Trees are ruthlessly cut down, meadows we used to look lovingly on are, alas ! no more, and others are being laid out in roads, and fenced off in lots — facts but too plainly bespeaking their future fate. A rural lane (a delightfully secluded spot considering its near ness to town) that we half hoped against reason might have escaped the eye of the speculative builder, has been widened and straightened, formal fences have taken the place of the old tangled hedgerows, and drain pipes are laid suspiciously along one side of the ancient footpath.

The pleasant-looking old-fashioned red-tiled farmhouse is deserted ; a large board is erected in the now neglected garden with the announcement, ' This eligible land to be let on building leases.' So ceaselessly London extends its borders ; no quarter is given to the green fields, familiar and favourite land marks are obliterated, pet spots that we have come to look upon as old friends are no more, and we part from them with sorrowful regret. Fortune favoured us in respect of weather on the day we left town. A fine morning with a bright blue sky overhead greeted us, and a pleasant soft wind met us as we drove along. The monotonous suburbs appeared their best and brightest under the cheerful AN HISTORIC MANSION 5 sunshine : the gardens of the numerous villas looked especially gay. Hammersmith Bridge was duly crossed, and we quickly arrived at Barnes Common, sweet scented with golden gorse ; this bit of wild ground, house surrounded as it was, gave us a suggestion of the multitude of good things that were in store for us when the real open country should be at last reached.

Just before arriving at the Common we passed by Barnes Elms, a house with a history. This old England of ours is studded with ancient mansions, manor houses, and other antique buildings, which abound in old-world memories, and often possess a fund of archæological interest. It has too a priceless inheritance, the dower of stored-up traditions of many centuries — traditions stretching back far away into the dim uncertain long ago, even to the days of the renowned King Arthur and his gallant knights. As an instance of this, let us just take a brief glance at the storied past of this old place. Its annals commence as early as the tenth century, it being granted at that period by Athelstane to the Church. Successive men, some of note, held it till the time of ' Good Queen Bess,' in whose reign Sir Francis Walsingham leased the house.

Elizabeth thrice visited him here, journeying by water in regal state, and was right royally entertained by her grateful subject. Later on, the unfortu nate Earl of Essex held possession, and it was also the residence of Chancellor Beale, bearer of the fatal death warrant to the unhappy Queen of Scots. The poet Cowley also for a time dwelt here, in 1663, but it was too near town to satisfy his love of retirement. Samuel Pepys, however, of diary renown, and possessing a wholly different temperament, found the spot very agreeable to his tastes, and much enjoyed his stay with the poet. Barnes Elms also was the scene of the memorable duel that took place in January of the year 1678, in which the Duke of Buckingham killed the Earl of Shrewsbury. During the encounter it is stated that Lady Shrewsbury actually held Buckingham's horse, disguised in the attire of a groom.

To pass over sundry other possessors, some of whom were men of note, we come to the time when the renowned K it- Cat Club held their meetings here in a room especially built for the purpose, the walls of which were adorned by portraits of the members, including a host of dis tinguished men — Walpole, the Duke of Marlborough, Addison, and Steele being amongst the number. The toasting glasses of the club were inscribed with the various healths drunk to the celebrated beauties of the day : the most noted of these were the four fair daughters of the Duke of Marlborough, far famed for their exceeding loveliness. And now, to descend to the present times, another club, the Ranelagh, has entered into possession of this historic mansion — a rare heritage surely ! But to return to ourselves. Proceeding on our way, we soon reached Sheen, passing through which we entered Richmond Park.

What a grand breathing spot this is for Londoners ! Here well within a dozen miles of the city are to be found secluded glades with fine old oaks, whilst underfoot the bracken is knee deep ; here and there, too, the sparkle of distant pools of water delights the eye, and wandering deer and an occasional scampering rabbit afford life to the scene. These altogether give to one the feeling, though so A PICTURESQUE SPOT 7 near, of being leagues away from the ' busy haunts of men.' As we drove through this fine park, we met or saw but few people ; a lady and gentleman on horse back, a carriage driving leisurely along, and now and again a solitary wayfarer afoot, were all we observed — otherwise we had it to ourselves. I have often wondered why the more remote and secluded portions of this grand expanse of undulating and well-wooded domain are not more visited.

Hidden away in it here and there, are bits that would delight the eye of a landscape painter, and he could be almost as much alone in them as he would be were he sketching in the comparatively remote artist-haunted Wales. Bits, too, there are that deserve his best skill ; we especially noticed one such, an old gnarled oak with rough-barked massive trunk and far-spreading limbs, its foot hidden by the tall bracken, a fine study of form and colour. Near the road leading out to Ham Common is a particularly charming dell, in which sleeps a stilly tree-fringed pool, looking like a fragment of fallen sky — a sparkling gem, in a setting of dark green woods. I wonder if a sketch of this were made, whether anyone would ever imagine the subject was taken from a spot so near to town — hardly, I think.

It is wonderful how much good sketching ground there still remains unspoilt, even at the present day, almost within hearing of the sounds of the mighty busy Babylon. N earing Kingston Gate, the views from the high ground, westward, are especially fine and panoramic. It was a clear day, and knowing exactly where to look, we could just make out Windsor Castle, a mass of soft pale grey, dimly outlined against the sunlit sky. A well-wooded far-stretching country lay spread out between us and it, miles upon miles of changeful greenery fading gradually away into a dreamy mystery of distant blue ; and here and there we caught a peep of the placid Thames, winding throughout the goodly prospect like a streak of molten silver. What a life o-ivine charm and brightness a river gives to a landscape ! England is such a well-watered country, that an untravelled inhabitant can hardly imagine how the absence of water is felt in a prospect otherwise fine ; the eye wanders over the most glorious panorama dis satisfied without this adjunct to the scene ; the reason for this dissatisfaction may not at first be apparent, but in time the cause is discovered, and the eye, feeling the deficiency, refuses to be contented without it.