hood of Southampton, that most frequented by the stranger is the one to Netley Abbey. The worldwide fame of this very ancient ruin has made it a place of great resort; and few people leave the neighbourhood without wandering among its crumbling walls. The walk thither is quite charming. As we pass the Custom-house we come upon the Itchen river-at least a quarter of a mile broad at its mouth-which is crossed by the new floating-bridge; a huge iron structure propelled by means of a steam engine in its centre, which works on a chain attached to either bank of the river. As we pass over, the picturesque old Dutch-looking village of Itchen is seen a little way up the river on the opposite shore. On landing, we shortly arrive at the shore of Southampton Water, which we skirt for two miles or so, leaving on our left-hand a pleasant common. The ruins lie embosomed in wood on a gentle hill-side, and are completely hidden until the visitor is close upon them.

This Abbey is supposed to have been founded in the twelfth century, and belonged to the Cistercian order of monks. The community consisted of an abbot and twelve monks, and their revenues, at the time of the Reformation, only amounted to £160 a year,-no very large sum even in those days. When in the height of its prosperity, this abbey must have presented a rather imposing appearance; the chapel is not very large, but the ruins of the conventual buildings are extensive, and seem much more spacious than would appear requisite to accommodate so small a fraternity. The chapel is far gone to decay, and what time has not been able to destroy, man has. On the dissolution, the buildings passed into lay hands; and at the commencement of the eighteenth century, a portion of the ruins were sold by its then proprietor, Sir Bartlett Lucy, for building purposes. It is said that the purchaser was a Mr. James Taylor, of Southampton, and that the remarks made by his friends, on the impropriety of removing such hallowed remains, had such an effect on his mind that he dreamed he should be killed by the keystone of one of the arches falling out and splitting his skull; and the dream was brought to pass (it is said), the fatal stone falling on his head whilst taking down a piece of timber that did not seem in any way connected with it. Huge heaps of rubbish, covered with grass and wild flowers, are piled in the centre of the chapel, testifying to the wreck that has taken place. It was cruciform in shape, and still maintains that form-with the exception of the north transept, which has been destroyed. Many of the windows of the nave are still remaining, and testify by their finish and excellent proportions to the original beauty of its architecture.

The profusion of ivy which clings to the walls and kindly hides the handywork of time, gives a charming effect to the building; whilst giant trees have sprung up, and now spread their ample arms, where once the vaulted roof was suspended. The kitchen is still roofed, and the refectory is not so much decayed as many portions of the building. All the domestic offices of the

Abbey, indeed, were preserved long after the Chapel, the Earls of Hertford and Huntingdon having transformed them into a dwelling-house. The remains of the Tudor additions of those noblemen are still very evident.

The situation of this ruin is quite delightful. From the summit of its walls the sea is seen shining over the fringe of wood that interposes between it and the shore. Horace Walpole has given a sketch of the ruin in his usual lively style. Time has made many inroads upon it, however, since his day. Writing to his friend Bentley, he says, "The ruins are vast, and retain fragments of beautiful fretted roofs pendant in the air, with all varieties of gothic patterns of windows, topped round and round with ivy. Many trees have sprouted up among the walls, and only want to be increased by cypresses. A hill rises above the Abbey enriched with wood. The fort, in which we would build a tower for habitation, remains, with two small platforms. This little castle is buried from the Abbey in a wood, in the very centre, on the edge of a hill. On each side breaks in the view of Southampton Sea, deep, blue, glittering with silver and vessels, on one side terminated by Southampton, on the other by Calshot Castle; and the Isle of Wight rises above the opposite hills. In short, they are not the ruins of Netley, but of Paradise. Oh! the purpled abbots! what a spot had they chosen to slumber in! The scene is so beautifully tranquil, yet so lovely, that they seem only to have retired into the world."

This picture continues to the present day; and we too, with the noble writer, can imagine the whitehooded monks hurrying along these. terrace-walks, which yet remain, or busy in the orchard, or the abbot's pleasure-garden. The fort spoken of by Horace. Walpole has been restored, and the tower he would have, has been built; and it now makes a charming residence-its embattled walls looking over the æstuary whose waters wash up to its very walls.

THE NEW FOREST.

Some very charming excursions can be made from Southampton into the New Forest, which extends from the opposite shore in a south-westerly direction for many miles. This great forest, originally laid out by the Conqueror as a hunting-ground, contains 66,000 acres of land, not more than 15,000 of which are in wood, the remaining portion being waste land. In this district still linger the old forest usages, such as existed in the time of the Normans. Local courts still have jurisdiction there, and the government and care of it is in the hands of a set of officers whose very names speak of the days of old. Agistors, Regarders, Bowbearers, Rangers, &c., have their domiciles within its purlieus, and execute the law throughout its sylvan glades. This ancient m chinery has long grown ineffectual however, and perhaps something more; for the nation has within these last few years been astounded by the magnitude of the

robberies of timber which have taken place within it -one spot alone showing the stumps of 400 splendid trees which have been extracted unknown to the chief authorities.

A committee is at the present time considering what had better be done with this national property, which has long ceased to be a nursery of timber for the navy, and which only continues a centre of disease from its decaying vegetation, and a source of demoralisation to the surrounding population; and in all probability, in a few years, we shall see farms smiling upon the thousands of acres of waste, and the wood divided into manageable properties, in the hands of private individuals, who will turn what is now a source of expense to the nation into a series of thriving and profitable woodlands. One of the prettiest drives to the Forest is through the villages of Millbrook, Redbridge, Totton, and Rumbridge. In the village of Redbridge most strangers pause for a short time, to visit the grave of Robert Pollok, whose poem, 'The Course of Time,' has made his name so celebrated. It stands in the churchyard, and a granite obelisk has there been erected to his memory, on which the following inscription is written :

The Grave of ROBERT POLLOK, A.M. Author of

"The Course of Time."

His immortal Poem is his monument. He was born at Muirhouse, Eaglesham, Renfrewshire,

Scotland,

On the 19th of October, 1798,

Died at Shireley Common, on the 17th of September, 1827. This Obelisk was erected by some admirers of his genius.

One of the most interesting places in the Forest is the village of Lyndhurst, a place of great antiquity,

where our monarchs of old used to hold their rural courts during the hunting season. The Merry Monarch was the last king, however, who ever visited it for hunting purposes. George III. took up his residence in the lodge called the King's House, however, in 1789 for nearly a week. This lodge, which is situated in the centre of the village, is now the official residence of the lord warden, or chief governor, of the Forest. It contains an old hall, called Rufus's Hall, in which the Forest Courts are held; it is fitted up with seats at the upper end, which are for the use of the verderers; they are of very ancient date and constructed of oak. The dining-hall is a fine apartment, and is said to have been used by Rufus. They show you here a huge stirrup, said to have belonged to that monarch also. It is made of iron, and traces of gilt are still to be seen upon it; its width at the bottom is ten inches and a half, its depth seven inches and a half, and it measures all round no less than two feet seven inches. The Forest keepers say they have authority to put to death any dog found within the precincts of the Forest who cannot pass through this stirrup. Leaving Lyndhurst by the Lymington road, the visitor sees the old Forest to perfection. Oaks of the largest growth arise on either side, and he feels himself (in England, at least,) for the first time in his life in a forest-using the word in its full acceptation; and if he wishes to realise the historical associations of the wood, he has only to journey to the Obelisk which has been erected to mark the spot where Rufus fell by the arrow of Tyrell. Other excursions might be made into the Forest by way of Hythe. The ruins of the Abbey of Beaulieu are well worthy of a visit, the little port of Eling affords charming water prospects, and the way to it is altogether delightful to the excursionist.

The Southampton Waters form a noble estuary, capable of floating ships of great burden. The entrance is guarded on the west side by Calshot Castle, while the works of Portsmouth extend along the coast, so as to form the defence on the eastern bank. Directly facing the mouth of these waters stands the Isle of Wight, whose beauties it is now our intention to survey.

The Isle of Wight, though included within the jurisdiction of the county of Hampshire, is separated from it by a channel, varying in breadth from two to seven miles, and in former ages distinguished by the appellation of the Solent Sea. Many have conjectured that this Isle was originally connected with the main land, but that the violence of the sea had gradually disjoined it from the neighbouring shore. Of this opinion is the learned Whitaker, who remarks, from older writers, that "its name is evidently derived from the British Guith, or Guict, signifying the divorced, or separated: hence arose the appellation of Vectis, or the separated

region, for the Isle of Wight." This opinion is not without its opponents; but the supporters of the affirmative appear to have the advantage both in talents and in number. Diodorus Siculus, who speaks of an Island by the name of Ictis, to which he affirms the Britons carried their tin over in carts at the recess of the tide, in order to export it to the opposite coasts of Gaul, is thought by many to allude to the Isle of Wight; and if this could be established, it would at once decide the controversy.

The original tin staple was certainly at the Cassiterides, or Scilly Isles; but, prior to the time of this historian, it had been removed to the Roman Vectis, or Isle of Wight. "The Greeks of Marseille," observes Mr. Whitaker, who quotes Strabo and Diodorus as authorities, "first followed the tract of the Phoenician voyagers; and some time before the days of Polybius, and about 200 years before the age of Christ, began to share with them in the trade of tin. The Carthaginian