who love strawberries would regard as a very pleasant circumstance. The church of this place is a very ancient edifice, and so situated, as to seem a retreat from all the noise and nonsense of the world. At no great distance, but, I think, quite out of sight, is the Angel, a very humble public-house, but in which I remember that, several years ago, I and my dear Eliza made a most hearty dinner upon eggs and bacon. If this should not be thought very exquisite angel's food, I assure you it was very grateful to two hungry mortals.

While we were in the walk by the Hot-well, we were suddenly greeted by some sweet musical sounds. We turned, and saw they proceeded from a boat in which was a gay party proceeding up the river; the sails were furled, but the streamers floated from the mast; and as the windings of the river stole them from our sight, and the melody, softer and fainter, died upon the ear, it seemed like a vision, or one of those scenes in romance with which our early years are so much delighted. These water-parties are to be reckoned, I think, amongst the most agreeable amusements of this place. I remember, some years ago, being present at the close of a boat-race; the declivities on each side were crowned and interspersed with numbers of people; many a gay streamer waved over the muddy river, and the music and guns, between the rocks, had a very striking ef fect. Water-parties are frequently formed, who

sail as far as Portshead, where they land, dine in the shady woods, and, from different situations, enjoy delightful views of the Channel, the steep and flat Holmes, and the opposite mountains of Wales.

All the Clifton side of the river, for a long way, is destitute of trees and verdure, except in a few places, where a few stems of ivy, creeping up the rocks, accidentally diversify their gay and barren appearance. On the other side of the river their summits, and partly their sides, are covered with a thick wood. In summer these woods present a most charming scene, they contain almost every forest tree indigenous to this country, and form a scene of foliage that for variety and exuberance is scarcely to be equalled.

Ascending the hill from the Hot-well, we get upon Durdham-downs, and no open spot in the kingdom can furnish a more delightful ride-the charming village of Clifton lies on the right hand. The Mall, a fine row of houses, is esteemed its finest situation; but the Prince of Wales's Crescent, Sun-row, Gloucester-place, Rodney-place, Boyce's and York-buildings, have each of them their separate claims to attention. The houses are not, in all these places, upon an equally magnificent scale, but in any of them there are accommodations which may render a temporary residence very agreeable. Clifton church retains all its original external simplicity: the inside I did not see, but the outside does not correspond with the

stately elevation of many of the modern houses in its neighbourhood. Near it is a round tower, denominated Cook's-folly, but it appears to me with very little reason, for it is so situated as to command a most delightful and extensive view of Bristol and the surrounding country. I think, if the builder of this elevated summer-house had no greater follies to reproach himself with, he might be a very happy man.

One of the principal rides over Durdham-downs is to King's-Weston, the seat of Lord Clifford. It is about four miles from Bristol, and is a very noble house. It was built from a design of Sir John Vanburgh, who erected Blenheim, and is somewhat in the heavy style for which that architect was celebrated. Here, however, it is very proper, for the situation being lofty and exposed, a light airy structure would not have been so suitable as one in which bulk and solidity were the prominent features. To the west of this mansion is a pleasure-house upon a hill called Penpold; from this eminence is an uncommonly rich and extensive prospect. Immediately below lies that vast sheet of water, Kingroad and the Severn-sea. A small island, called The Dinny, rises in the middle, and a full view is presented of all the ships and boats, either at anchor or skimming the liquid plain. On the one side, the view stretches from Glamorganshire along the undulating border of Monmouthshire, and on the other, over the cultivated flats and swells of Gloucester, almost up to

the city of that name. At a great distance the remoter Welch mountains, rise into the horizon and close the scene.

Leaving Penfold, and turning to the right, we soon enter the pleasant village of Shirehampton. At the east end of Penpold-hill are traces of an old camp, generally supposed to be Roman, and terminated by a deep glen. The summit of an hill on the other side this glen is crowned with Blaize-castle, so called from its occupying the spot where formerly stood a chapel dedicated to St. Blazius, Bishop of St. Sebaste, and patron of the wool-combers. How he came by this honour it is difficult to say—perhaps the manner of his death might confer it upon him, for the art of woolcombing must have been known long before his time. He was bishop of Sebasta in Cappadocia, and suffered death under Dioclesian. He was beheaded, after being whipped and having his flesh torn with instruments used in combing of wool.

To-morrow is emphatically the day of REST. In this country at least, the tide of business will cease in a great measure to flow; thousands will quit for a season their temporal occupations, and listen to those salutary truths which refer principally to an eternal world. Hail sacred day! which, like a friendly angel, brings us the cup of heavenly consolation-kind is the respite which thou affordest to the children of men!-labour can lay down its spade-merchandize can close its books-study can extinguish its lamp-trade can quit its counter

-poverty can cease its toil, and virtuous affluence can feel new joy in the thought of contributing to the comfort of many a little circle, and being a witness of their decent appearance in the temple of religion. All can rejoice in the approach of the sabbath, but the children of indolence, dissipation, and inveterate sin-to them it is no restit is a tiresome, cheerless, gloomy day.-Oh, my friend, how thankful should you and I be, that we have been placed in such circumstances as to render the sabbath a pleasant day to us!

On Monday we purpose to take leave of the hospitalities of Berkley-square. On Wednesday, if I can, I will describe to you our route.-Remember me affectionately to all our friends-accept the best wishes of my fellow-travellers, and believe me yours most faithfully.

LETTER III.

To the Same.

Pym's Farm, July 13, 1803.

DEAR MADAM,

THE late hour at which we arrived, and the bustle of a crowded inn at Hereford, where it happened to be the assizes, prevented my addressing you from that place. Another long and hot day of