open common-fields within a few excellent. A dark, rich loam, miles of Royston. Along here the free from stones, on chalk beneath

Even here, HUNTINGDON, Tuesday morn-however, I saw but few Swedish ing, 22 Jan. 1822.-Immediately turnips, and those not good. upon quitting ROYSTON, you Nor did I see any wheat drilled'; come along, for a considerable and observed, that, in many distance, with enclosed fields on parts, the broad-cast sowing had the left and open common-fields been performed in a most careless on the right. Here the land is manner, especially at about three

miles from Royston, where some ed; and yet, the bottom is such parts of the broad lands seemed as not to be favourable to the

growth of the oak, of which sort I
have not seen one handsome tree
since I left London.
A grove,
such as I saw at Weston in Here-

to have had the seed flung along them with a shovel, while other parts contained only here and there a blade; or, at least, were so thinly supplied as to make it fordshire, would, here, be à thing almost doubtful, whether they had to attract the attention of all not been wholly missed. In some ranks and all ages. What, then, parts, the middles only of the ridges would they say, on beholding a were sown thickly. This is shock-wood of Oaks, Hickories, Chesing husbandry, A Norfolk or a nuts, Walnuts, Locusts, GumKentish farmer would have sowed a bushel and a half of seed to the acre here, and would have had a far better plant of wheat.

About four miles, I think it is, from

trees and Maples in America!—— Lord Hardwicke's avenue appears to be lined with Elms chiefly. They are shabby. He might have had ash; for, the ash will

Royston you come to the estate grow any where; on sand, on of Lord HARDWICKE. You see gravel, on clay, on chalk, or in the house at the end of an avenue swamps. It is surprising, that about two miles long, which, how-those who planted these rows of ever, wants the main thing, name- trees did not observe how well ly, fine and lofty trees. The soil the ash grows here! In the here begins to be a very stiff hedge-rows, in the plantations, loam at top; clay beneath for a considerable distance; and, in some places, beds of yellow gravel with very large stones mixed in it. The land is generally cold;

every where the ash is fine. The ash is the hardiest of all our large trees. Look at trees on any part of the sea coast. You will see them all, even the firs,

a great deal of draining is want-lean from the sea breeze, except

the ash. You will see the oak apart, he would now have had shaved up on the side of the about six thousand ash-poles, on breeze. But, the ash stands up-an average twelve feet long, right as if in a warm woody dell. on each acre of land in his We have no tree that attains a plantation; which, at three-halfgreater height than the ash; pence each, would have been and, certainly none that equals worth somewhere nearly forty it in beauty of leaf. It bears pounds an acre. He might now pruning better than any other have cut the poles, leaving about tree. Its timber is one of the 600 to stand upon an acre to most useful; and as underwood and fire-wood it far exceeds all were growing to timber, the unothers of English growth. From derwood would, for poles, hoops, the trees of an avenue like that of broom-sticks, spars, rods, and Lord Hardwicke а hundred faggots, have been worth twentypounds worth of fuel might, if five or thirty pounds an acre the trees were ash, be cut every every ten years. Can beggarly

come to trees; and, while these

year in prunings necessary to pre-stuff, like larches and firs, ever be serve the health and beauty of the profitable to this extent? Ash is Yet, on this same land, timber, fit for the wheelwright, at

trees.

has his lordship planted many the age of twenty years, or less acres of larches and firs. These What can you do with a rotten appear to have been planted fir thing at that age ?—— This about twelve years. If, instead of estate of Lord Hardwicke apthese he had planted ash, four pears to be very large. There is years from the seed bed and once removed; had cut them down within an inch of the ground the

second year after planting; and had planted them at four feet

a part which is, apparently, in his own hands, as, indeed, the whole must soon be, unless he give up all idea of rent, or, unless he can choach off the fundholder or get

again afloat on the sea of paper-| harrows to harrow in the corn. Cermoney. In this part of his land tainlythis village resembles nothing there is a fine piece of Lucerne English, except some of the rasin rows at about eighteen inches cally rotten boroughs in Cornwall distant from each other. They and Devonshire, on which a just are now manuring it with burnt- Providence seems to have enearth mixed with some dung; and tailed its curse. The land just I see several heaps of burnt-earth about here does seem to be really hereabouts. The directions for bad. The face of the country is doing this are contained in my naked. The few scrubbed trees Year's Residence, as taught me that now-and-then meet the eye, by Mr. WILLIAM GAUNTLET, of and even the quick-sets, are coWinchester. The land is, all vered with a yellow moss. All is along here, laid up in those wide bleak and comfortless; and, just and high ridges, which I saw in on the most dreary part of this Gloucestershire, going from Glou- most dreary scene, stands most cester to Oxford. See last Volume opportunely "Caxton Gibbet," page 1381. These ridges are tendering its friendly one arm to ploughed back or down; but, they the passers by. It has recently are ploughed up again for every been fresh-painted, and written sowing. At an Inn near Lord on in conspicuous characters, for Hardwicke's I saw the finest the benefit, I suppose, of those parcel of dove-house pigeons I who cannot exist under the thought ever saw in my life.-Between of wheat at four shillings a bushel.-this place and Huntingdon is the Not far from this is a new house, village of CAXTON, which very which, the coachman says, bemuch resembles almost a village longs to a Mr. CHEER, who, if of the same size in Picardy, report speaks truly, is not, howwhere I saw the women dragging ever, notwithstanding his name,

guilty of the sin of making people name; because down does not either drunkards or gluttons. Cer-mean unploughed land, but open tainly the spot, on which he has and unsheltered land, and the built his house, is one of the most Saxon word is dun.-When you ugly that I ever saw. Few spots come down near to the town it

have every thing that you could self, the scene suddenly, totally, wish to find; but this, according and most agreeably, changes. to my judgment, has every thing The River Ouse, separates that every man of ordinary taste GODMANCHESTER from HUNTINGwould wish to avoid. The DON, and there is, I think, no country changes but little till you very great difference in the popuget quite to HUNTINGDON. The lation of the two. Both together land is generally quite open, or in do not make up a population of large fields. Strong, wheat-land, more than about five thousand that wants a good deal of drain-souls. Huntingdon is a slightly ing. Very few turnips of any built town, compared with Lewes, sort are raised; and, of course, for instance. The houses are not few sheep and cattle kept. Few in general so high, nor made of trees, and those scrubbed. Few such solid and costly materials. woods, and those small. Few hills, The shops are not so large and and those hardly worthy of the their contents not so costly. There name. All which, when we see is not a show of so much business them, make us cease to wonder, and so much opulence. But, that this country is so famous for Huntingdon is a very clean and fox-hunting. Such it has, doubt- nice place, contains many elegant less been, in all times, and to this houses, and the environs are beaucircumstance Huntingdon, that tifu'. is to say, Huntingdun, or Hun-brilge, tingdown, unquestionably owes its passes,

Above and below the

under which the OUSE are the most beautiful,