For every shrub, and every blade of grass, And every pointed thorn, seemed wrought in glass;

In pearls and rubies rich the hawthorns shew,

While through the ice the crimson berries glow;

The thick-sprung reeds which watery marshes
yield,

Seemed polished lances in a hostile field;
The stag in limpid currents, with surprise,
Sees crystal branches on his forehead rise;
The spreading oak, the beech, and tow'ring
pine,

Glazed over, in the freezing æther shine;
The frighted birds the rattling branches
shun,

Which wave and glitter in the distant sun.'

nosa might have been just as suitable. The whole is wretched. I would not give the crag a mile below Knaresborough, for five hundred such trumpery producthe little bronze figure of the Venus of tions. I must mention in justice, that: Medicis, placed in the banqueting-house, is the most elegant imitation of that cele brated statue I have ever seen in England.

Turning away in disgust from the boasted beauties of Studleigh, we soo arrive at a real beauty-the venerable ruin of Fountaine's Abbey. This is unquestionably the finest ruin in England. It stands in a sequestered valley, near to which a modest river steals along between woods and rocks. Nothing has fallen to ruin in Fountaine's Abbey, excepting the roof and some of the windo vs. The chancel, the choir, the cloisters, the dormitory, the kitchen, the refectory, the chapter-house, and the charnel-house, are all nearly entire; and in some places the plaister remains on the walls, painted so as to resemble large red stones nicely joined together. Fountaine's Abbey is a Gothic building: it was formerly enriched with ample revenues; and the Percy family, many of whom are here buried, were considered as its chief benefactors. It was founded in 1132 by Thurstan, archbishop of York; and an inscription over one of the gates mentions its having been finished in the year 1202, seventy years from its foundation: the length of the aisle is three hundred and sixty feet, and the cloister garden is entire.

A general idea of Hack-fall, which has been said to combine the beauties of Matlock and the Leasowes, may be obtained, by conceiving a rivulet falling in cascades down a narrow dell, betwixt two steep hills richly covered with wood, and interspersed with temples and ruins. From the top of one of these eminences may be seen a wide view of the North Riding of Yorkshire, bounded by distant hills. Hlack-fali lies about four or five miles from the beautiful seat of its proprietor, Studleigh Park, which I entered at the northern gate, close to the house. After riding about half a mile through a lawn, I descended to a fine sheet of water, on the borders of which, even winter wore the look of spring. Studleigh Park is certainly highly cultivated; nature has done much, and art more, in contributing towards its beauty. There are fine sloping hills covered with wood, and interspersed with temples; banquetinghouses, cold baths, and seats planted to catch noble prospects: and below are smooth lakes, and imitations of the best remains of ancient sculpture. Never theless, I cannot help differing from all travellers, by decidedly condemning the taste of it to be vile. Here all is art, and no nature; the principal sheet of water is divided into three compart ments, resembling a moon, and a crescent on each side of it. In the exact centre of these are dripping figures of Galen, Esculapius, and Niobe: corresponding figures are placed opposite to the half-moons on the banks--the Dying Gladiator, and the Wrestlers; while this abominable piece of Dogget-work, is supplied with water from a broad ribbon of a cascade not better than a mill-dam. Opposite, on the other side, is a temple of Piety, containing of all things in the world, a bust of Nero-a bust of Spi

Riding on from Fountaine's Abbey, I passed through Ripley and Lower Harrowgate; and stopping all night at a small inn four miles beyond the latter place, arrived next morning in Leeds.

After resting some days, I again took horse, and travelled through Wakefield, which I have described in a former tour to Barnsley, a wretched ugly little town, where I got a bad breakfast. Sandal Castle lies in the way within a mile of Wakefield, well known to be celebrated for a famous battle between the White and Red Roses. From Barnsley, I proceeded to Wentworth Castle, where I was led through the picture-gallery, though in a great hurry, by the housekeeper, who had more important business in hand-the making of jellies and blamanges. Wentworth Castle is a family seat of the Stafford family, and stands nobly on the summit of a hill covered with old trees. The grounds

are

are finely laid out: but alas! this was not the time of year for perceiving their beauties. The gallery contains some of the best paintings both of old and modern masters. One in particular struck me in going along: Swindlers drawing out a Card. There are many beautiful Views in Switzerland. Here too is to be scen a fine portrait of the celebrated lord Stafford on horseback; and another picture representing three kings, all said to be of the Stafford family. Visitors are also shewn a room, called Queen Anne's room, where there is a table and mirror-frame, both of solid

silver.

Begretting that the opportunity of remaining in the gallery was so extremely short, I pushed on to Wentworth House, the noble palace of earl Fitzwilliam, and arrived in time to get a good view of the paintings. These are most valuable, being the elite of all the best masters. The chief of them are as follows: Jason killing the Dragon, by Salvator Rosa; Cupid Sleeping, by Guido; a Magdalen, by Titian; Bacchus, by sir Joshua Rey nolds; Madona and Child, by Raphael: there are likewise several good pictures by Ostade, Teniers, and Domenichino. In other apartments are portraits of Charles I. and his queen Henrietta; of archbishop Laud; and of the celebrated lord Stafford dictating to his Secretary, In a large ball-room there are bronze figures of the Apollo Belvidere; the Venus de Medicis; the Autinous; and a Contemplating Philosopher, and two Dying Gladiators. Over the hall door are suspended a surprisingly broad pair of elk's horns, brought from lord Fitzwilliam's Irish estates. Within this noble mansion it will give every visitor pleasure to see an elegant and comforta ble chapel: as well to hear that prayers are performed here every evening, when the family are at home. The chief object of attention in the grounds, is an elegant mausoleum to the memory of the marquis of Rockingham. The inscription is good, but too long: an inscription, like an epitaph, should be of such dimensions as that he who runs may

read.

By the time I entered Rotherham it was quite dark; so that I had just time to take a hasty dinner, and fill up my day's pleasure by going to the play. A strolling party were performing some wretched piece, by desire of the Tickhill volunteers. The chief character, by the two brushes which ran from his ears to

his chin, might have been well calculated for the part of Don Ferolos Whiskerandos. The music was that to which a bear would dance: and what little wit there was, seemed not ill fitted for a company which might be supposed would witness such a spectacle. One man sung a song betwixt the play and the farce, in the character of a cake-seller: each verse ended with the genteel burthen of—“ All my eye and Betty Martin." One, and one only, of the stanzas remains in my memory: "The ladies they like bride-cake,

And of this I'm sure and sartain,

If they say they don't like the men,
It's all my eye and Betty Martin!"
and reached Worksop to
The next morning I arose before light,
breakfast.
At the end of the town, which is quite
uninteresting, a lodge indicates the
entrance to Worksop, Manor, a seat of
the Norfolk family. It is a much more
magnificent mansion than the ridiculous
piece of mock-antique Arundel Castle
in its repaired state, to which the pre-
sent duke gives the preference as a resi-
in length, not quite so noble as that of
dence. The front is three hundred feet
Wentworth House. In the centre is a
portico of six columns of the Corinthian
order, surmounted by a pediment which
is crowned with statues. The park is
about eight miles in circumference.

Within, the furniture, portraits, and
other decorations, are all in the old style:
hangings and beds of crimson damask,
and of sky-blue velvet; the history of
Joseph in tapestry of Brussels, and rich
Indian scenery in that of the Gobelins.
There is a fine allegorical fresco painting
of the Arts and Sciences, in a gallery, by
Le Breuger; a beautiful portrait of a
duchess of Milan: many fine paintings,
chiefly by Vandyke; the cinef of which
is Cain slaying Abel: and in a word,
all the blood of all the Howards, preserved
in the veins of the proprietors of its diffe-
rent portions, who frown along the
deserted galleries, some in armour, some
in whiskers; and those of a still later
date, in their large wigs, and square shoes.
residence of the duke of Portland, stands
Welbeck, my next object, a seat and
about five miles from Worksop Manor.
It is a poor shabby old place; but within,
the seat of elegance and hospitality. I
was received most courteously by a
housekeeper, who regretted her inability
to conduct me through the house, the
family being at home, and all the rooms
occupied. My curiosity was conse-

quently

quently only gratified by the view of a Gothic library, which is not yet finished. This place was formerly a religious house of the Augustine friars. The park contains many old trees, particularly the celebrated Greendale oak, with a road cut through the trunk, and bearing one branch, which alone indicates its being still in life.

From Welbeck I rode on to Clumber, and was there repaid for my late disappointment, the family having fortunately left the house to go to London only the preceding day, and all the rich furniture being still uncovered. Clumber combines magnificence and comfort, more than any nobleman's mansion in England. The whole house is richly carpeted; the railings of the stair-cases curiouslywrought and gilt in the shapes of crowns, with tassels hanging down between them from cords twisted in knots and festoons. All the bed rooms are decorated with superb furniture; beds in the form of tents and pavilions, curtains twisted in graceful foldings, large portable mirrors, ceilings elegantly finished, Turkey carpetings, inlaid cabinets, and time-pieces mounted with classical taste. There is a library, a music-room, and an elegant chapel with windows of stained glass. From the duchess's dressing-room is seen a fine view of the sheet of water terminated by a bridge, which forms one of the summer beauties of the place. The duke's private study is as complete a bouidoir as can well be imagined." In this princely abode the writer of romance might enrich his fancy, and the poet imagine himself wandering through an enchanted palace: nor are nobler specimens of the arts here wanting. It would be tedious to enumerate the paintings of the best ancient and modern artists which adorn the walls of Clumber: there are an Ora tor, by Rembrandt; two small pieces, representing Wild Scenes with Shepherds, by Salvator Rosa; a Lion and Wild Boar, by Rubens; and Two Boys, by Gainsborough: all admirable pictures. In the collection are paintings by Vandyke, Canaletti, Rubens, Battoni, Sneyders, Old John, Wouverman, Teniers, Claude, and Van Huysum. Of the latter may be observed a Flower Piece, with a dew-drop exquisitely resting on a tulip-leaf. One room is adorned with seven paintings in water colors, brought from the ruins of Herculaneum. In the chapel there is a Dead Christ and Mary, after Raphael. The larger dining-room, a magnificent apartment, which could easily accom

modate 150 guests, is hung round with appropriate paintings of fish and fruits, by the best masters in each of these departments. Every thing reflects the highest credit on the taste displayed in the accommodations and ornaments found in this delightful retreat.

The last of the dukeries is Thoresby, formerly a seat of the duke of Kingston, but now possessed by Mr. Pierrepoint. There are no paintings of any consequence in this mansion; and the only object worthy of notice is a marble sa loon with beautiful columns, a tessellated pavement, and lamps in candelabras. Having thus made good use of my time by completing, in one winter's day, the tour of these four seats, I rode forward to Ollerton, where I was annoyed for the rest of the evening, by riders boasting of their horses, their employers, and their consequence at inns.

The next morning I breakfasted at Newark, which stands on an island formed by two branches of the Trent, which re-unite their streams a little below it. The castle was built by King Stephen; and here King John died. Near Newark is found a kind of stone, which forms a composition used as a substitute for stucco.work. My next stage was Grantham, from which place I rode forward to Belvoir Castle; but, unfortunately, on arriving there in the dark, I found the whole of the inn occupied by servants belonging to the gentlemen vi sitors of the duke of Rutland: I found it necessary to go round two miles before I could reach an inn. To add to my misfortunes I lost my way; and not until I had wandered about in the snow, leading my horse for a couple of hours, did I reach the little comfortable hos pitable inn of Knipton.

Early next morning I walked to the castle, which stands proudly on a commanding eminence, from which the flat country is distinctly seen extending many miles. Great improvements are carrying on, but the new rooms are paltry: when compared internally, as the residence of peers, Clumber is a palace-Belvoir a pig-sty. The collection of paintings is small, but very choice: here is a ting Peter denying Christ, by M. Angelo and other master-pieces, by Salvator Rosa and Lucca Giordano; nor must. I omit the original design of the window in New College, the work of sir Joshua Reynolds. A full-length portrait of Henry VIII. by Hans Holbein, is said to be extremely valuable.

Getting

Getting as quickly as I could move over a vile cross country, I arrived in Stamford, abounding in churches and antiquities, in time to run out to Burleigh, and inspect the collection before the close of day. Lord Exeter's collection has been highly extolled; and it is always with distrust and reluctance that an individual should oppose the public voice, yet I cannot avoid expressing my opinion that this celebrated assortment is more numerous than select. With the exception of the wonderful Saviour's Head, by Carlo Dolce; a Holy Family, by Raphael; and one or two other pieces; the rest are either uninteresting as to their subjects, or the works of secondrate masters. Rubens's coarse figures, dancing with their heads all on a level, and having a broad light cast full in front, or Carlo Maratte's cold insipid performances, meet the eye in every apart

ment.

Here are some ceilings finely painted with mythological subjects, representing Heaven and Tartarus. Among the curiosities, I observed a magnificent state hed, and casts of the oxen of different counties.

I slept at Wantford, where the inn is good, and so it ought, for the charges

are enormous.

My next day's journey commenced with an excursion to Peterborough; where I got a good and cheap breakfast. The ancient monastery of this place was founded in the seventh century. It was destroyed by the Danes; and being rebuilt by King Edgar, continued a mitred abbey until 1541, when Henry VIII. converted it into a cathedral and bishop's see: the cathedral has the finest front perhaps in England, next to the elevation of York Minster. Near the gate is the portrait of an old sexton, who buried two queens. The tomb of Queen Catherine, Henry VIII.'s first wife, is marked by a brass plate. There are many figures of abbots; and a curious table, containing the names of all the abbots and bishops in chronological order. But the chief curiosity is a tomb-stone lately dug up, bearing date of the year 870: it is in the form of a small house.

I had now nearly completed my plan of seeing every thing interesting on the road. I rode through Yaxley, where there are extensive barracks; Stilton, celebrated for its cheese; Huntingdon, which had formerly fifteen churches; and stopt for the night at Godmanchester, a mile beyond this place. The next morning my way lay through Caxton and Royston to Wade's Mill, near Ware:

and the day afterwards being Sunday, I Abbey, where I attended the morning got carly in the morning to Waltham service. Waltham Abbey stands a mile from Waltham Cross, and to the east of the great road. of the memorials of Edward I. to his Waltham Cross is one high preservation. The church at Walqueen; a beautiful Gothic structure in tham Abbey is raised on the site of the old monastery. It was founded in 1062 by Harold, afterwards king of England; nothing now remains of it but a ga and bridge. Here Cranmer proposed the measure of consulting the Universities on vorce. the propriety of Henry VIII's di

The way from hence to the metropolis extends through a line of delightful villages; and is one of the best approaches Green, Edmonton, Tottenhamn, Stamto London. Enfield Highway, Scotland ford Hill, Stoke Newington, Dalston, Kingsland, proof of the opulence and taste of the Islington, afford a noble inhabitants of London, in presenting a succession of elegant villas, terraces, and ornamental cottages.

For the Monthly Magazine.
ACCOUNT of the FEJEE ISLANDS.
[From the Sydney Gazette and New South
Wales Advertiser.]

N the 7th of October last, which was shortly after the arrival at the Fejees of the Favourite, Capt. Campbell, Mr. Thomas Smith, his second officer, was unexpectedly made prisoner by the natives, with seven others of the ship's company, and remained nine days in captivity; during which interval he experienced and witnessed horrors, from his narrative of which the following account is accurately deduced.

It begins with stating, that on the 7th of October he went from Sandal-wood Bay round to the Bay of Highlea, with three boats, in quest of Sandal-wood, one of which, the ship's long-boat, he commanded; another, a whale-boat, was under the command of a Mr. Lockerby, formerly chief officer of the American ship, Jenny; and the third, under Mr. Graham, who fortunately returned laden to the vessel in time to escape the calamities that fell upon the former two. At Highlea he heard that Bullan · dam, the chief of the district of Buya, was expected with a force to make war upon the island of Taffere or Taffera, and that it was the intention of the Highleans

t