changed the confined retreat of art for the unrestricted theatre of nature. All around looked fresh and gay, though the road was not interesting, nor compensated for the early encroachment on my rest. We travelled over a direct flat, with little surrounding fertility or beauty, till we passed Witney, and approached an insignificant place called Burford; here, gently ascending a rising road, we came upon some downs, exhibiting a bleak and uncomfortable face of country, which seemed gradually to deteriorate as we approached the long straggling town of North Leach, which consists of one irregular street, and is situated at the foot of the Coteswold Hills. I was rejoiced at leaving a spot exhibiting so much sterility and barreness; and quitting, therefore, this place by the road, near which stands the County Penitentiary, we proceeded through a country, high and hilly, and the fields intersected with that most comfortable and rural fence, stone walls. We had now quitted Oxfordshire, yet the same bleak and unwelcome aspect continued, without wood or any protection, from the piercing blasts on these heights. Under the immediate influence of such cheerless scenery we passed over the Crickley and Coteswold Hills, in the vicinity of which stands the village of Crickley, rendered interesting as the spot where the river Thames takes its rise. Not far from it is the noted Cheltenham oak. There is something pleasing and improving in the connection of ideas, at the sight of such objects, and they afford much interest to the reflecting mind. In the source of a river the spectator often reads the history of human life. An attentive consideration of the conduct of our most celebrated travellers, discovers, in their disregard of the difficulties and arduousness of their undertaking, their anxiety to trace every thing to its source, and unless they accomplish that, they seem to deem their pursuit altogether vain. "Felix qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas." What solicitudes,-what dangers did not the intrepid Bruce experience in tracing the Nile to its head; and can the traveller regard the tree without considering the acorn from which it proceeds? Can he sail composedly on the majestic bosom of the Thames,-can he coolly calculate on its great national value as the medium of riches and commerce of the land, and view, without interest, the little fount from whence it springs? It is situated at a small distance from the road, and, as soon as it gushes forth, is lost in a woody enclosure. Let him then extend his ideas with the increasing stream, till he finds it crowded with the fleets and commerce of the world. From the smallest beginnings the greatest powers and constructions arise. It is the association of such reflections, that throws around it all its importance, and excites in the mind a wish, that with a similar beginning, he may, in his progress through life, gradually expand in the exercise of honest and moral worth. If this thought had not its full force on me, it served, however, to relieve the tedious ennui of the way; for, from the cold sterility of these high grounds, I began to despair of any speedy relief or gratification. Happily I found my fears groundless; we had passed a long tract of uncultivated ground, and had nearly reached the end of the journey, when, arriving on the margin of the downs, as striking a display as imagination can conceive, burst on the sight, and the vale of Severn lay spread like a carpet before us. "Heavens! what a goodly prospect spreads around, "Slow let me trace this matchless Severn vale, "Fair winding up to where the muses haunt "In sacred bowers." Indeed it requires an observer to judge rightly how the eye must have been lost in the profusion of surrounding objects, and have run wild in the contemplation of this vast stretch of country, through an expansive valley, in all its varied fertility, whilst the whole was completely land-locked by the steeps of the surrounding hills. Slowly descending this declivity, through a thickly shaded road, I was gratified by the happy contrast of nature, in all her luxuriance, and a few minutes introduced us into the town of CHELTENHAM, gay standing near the base of the before-mentioned heights. I cannot better give you an idea of its situation, than by recalling Bath to your recollection, with necessary allowances. All was bustle and activity as I entered this scene of gaiety; but it was the profitless hum of the drone. Making the Plough Hotel head quarters, I sallied forth to gain some knowledge of its localities. The town itself I found consisted of one long street, the rest being laid out in detached buildings and residences, which, united in an eminent degree, the comforts and recommendations of such independent dwellings. There was a good market place; a mo derate sized theatre, and excellent assembly rooms. You pass by the church, which is commodious, and has a noble steeple, in your way to the spas. By the crowd of loungers and invalids continually on the move, I easily found my way through the church-yard, under a fine walk of limes; and thence, by some meadows, |