Scenery, Gilpin describes the town itself, and again notices the river mouth. Describing his approach to it from the west, in his forest ride, he says, 'A little further to the east stands Lymington, just at the point where the flat country we had been travelling from Christchurch descends to the river which takes its name from the town. The brow and gentle descent of this falling ground the town occupies, forming one handsome street which overlooks the high grounds on the opposite side of the river. It is a neat, well-built town and pleasantly seated. The houses, especially on the side of the street next the coast, have views, from the windows and gardens, of the Isle of Wight and the sea. Across the estuary formed at the mouth of Lymington River, a dam with flood-gates is thrown. The intention was to exclude the salt water from the meadows above, which it was hoped might have become pasturage, but the purpose is not answered. A great beauty, however, arises from the influx of the tide which forms a handsome piece of water above the dam with many reaches and winding shores. We have

already observed the beauty of this estuary when seen from the higher grounds as it enters the sea. The scenes are equally interesting which it affords when the eye pursues it up the stream from its recesses in the forest. One of the best of them opens from the stable-yard of the Angel Inn in Lymington, and the parts adjacent.'

Returning to our own itinerary and to the forest of to-day-which though beautiful in its untouched parts has fallen from the splendour of a hundred years since we must retrace our steps to the wicket gate, through which we had passed to get a better view of the tide-forsaken estuary. From the gate we follow a path which leads us along the bank of the Lymington River, passing the harbour with its shipping. Just beyond we cross, by the ferry, to the opposite, or eastern, side of the Lymington River on our way upstream towards Boldre, following the road which runs by the riparian marshy tract. On both sides of the valley wooded uplands run down to the river, and the hedgebanks, on either hand, glow with the colours of autumnal leaves and autumnal flowers-white bindweed flowers contrasting

with the mellowing bindweed leaves, Tormentil and Thistle, flowering Wild Mint and the everpresent Bramble with red, purple, and deep-green leaves and purple stems. Late flowers of Bramble contrast with the red and black fruit of the same shrubs, and the maple leaves, so various in colour, here redden, whilst the hawthorn berries encrimson the hedgebanks.

We soon leave our level way in the valley, and the sight of the river-banks, and turn to the right into the ascending course of a lane skirting, on the left-hand side of the way, an upland park. As we near the wooded crest of this slope, the lower part of which runs down to the river margin, we get a pretty peep of scenery over the hedgebank, down into the valley of the Lymington River, and of Boldre-y Byldwr of the Keltic (the full stream) and Bovre of Domesday-crowning the uplands beyond-the trees which stud the meadow that forms the foreground of the landscape being richly dressed in autumnal colours, red, golden, brown, and green. At the top of the hill, on the left-hand side of the way, is Vicar's Hill House, and on the right-hand side

Gilpin's Vicar's Hill,' the old home of the author of Forest Scenery, standing on the crest of a hilly slope, the bottom of which is thickly wooded. Passing beyond, we reach a point where the road divides into two, and taking the left turning and winding up over the uplands, between high banks on either side embowered in leafiness, we reach a triangular bit of greensward where our road dips both to the right and to the left, or on both sides, of the little highway oasis, meeting a road which runs across. Taking the left-hand turning and descending over the hill, under the leafy shadows of large Elm and Oak trees, in another moment we pass a few cottages on either side, and immediately afterwards come in sight of Boldre Bridge, getting a pretty peep just before we reach the bridge, between the picturesquely-contorted branches of ivy-covered Oaks, of the Lymington River or Boldre Water as it is here more appropriately named. water at this spot is narrowed to a mere streamlet, having low-lying, marshy borders and beyond and above, on its further side, gently rising uplands. On the opposite side of the bridge lies

The

the main part of Boldre village. But, after crossing the bridge and getting a peep at the cottages, we recross the small stream to its eastern side and, leaving the village down and away to our left embowered amongst trees, continue the road we had before been following, which, from the water level, begins to ascend over a hill. From this hill we descend again, and our road again dividing into two, we take the left-hand turning. Uphill and down once more under leafiness until we reach, at length, a winding and ascending road, and away towards the right, at the crest of the hill above us, and up which our road is winding, we catch sight of the belt of trees which surround Boldre Church. The beautifully situated edifice lies really on the lefthand side of the road we are following, as we find when we reach the top.

It seems to be in the fitness of things that Boldre Church and Vicar's Hill should still, as in Gilpin's time, be embowered in trees, and it is equally fitting that the approach to both should be by winding, leaf-enshrouded roads, which are charmingly characteristic of the hedgebank and