and passing thro’ the arch, proceeded to the hermitage, which terminated the garden. It was scarcely perceptible at a distance. A large weeping-willow swept the roof with its branches and bespoke the melancholy inhabitant. We caught a view of the little hut as we advanced thro’ the opening of the trees; it was covered with bark,—a small low door, slightly latched, immediately opened at our touch. A venerable old man was seated in the centre with a prayer-book in one hand, while the other supported his cheek, and rested on an old table, which, like the hermit, seemed moulding to decay; a broken pitcher, a plate and tea-pot sat before him, and his tea-kettle sat by the chimney; a tattered coverlit was spread over a bed of straw, which tho’ hard might be softened by resignation and content. I left him impressed with veneration and fear which the mystery of his situation seemed to create. We returned to the house, which was neat and handsome, and from thence visited the Greenhouse, where we saw oranges and lemons in perfection,—in one orange tree there were green ones, ripe ones and blossoms. Every plant and shrub which was beautiful and rare was collected here, and I looked around with astonishment and delight; at the upper end of the garden there was a beautiful arbour formed of a mound of turf, which we ascended by several steps formed likewise of turf, and ’twas surrounded by a thick row of poplar trees which branched out quite to the bottom and so close together that you could not see through,—’twas a most charming place, and I know not how long we should have remained to admire if they had not summoned us to tea. We returned home, and Mr. Hasket Derby asked if we should not like to walk over to his house and see the garden,—we readily consented, as I had heard much of the house. The evening was calm and delightful, the moon shone in its greatest splendor. We entered the house, and the door opened into a spacious entry; on each side were large white marble images. We passed on by doors on each side opening into the drawing-room, dining-room, parlor, etc., etc., and at the farther part of the entry a door opened into a large, magnificent oval room; and another door opposite the one we entered was thrown open and gave us a full view of the garden below. The moon shone with uncommon splendor. The large marble _vases_, the images, the mirrors to correspond with the windows, gave it so uniform and finished an appearance, that I could not think it possible I viewed objects that were real, every thing appeared like enchantment,—the stillness of the hour, the imperfect light of the moon, the novelty of the scene, filled my mind with sensations I never felt before. I could not realize every thing and expected every moment that the wand of the fairy would sweep all from before my eyes and leave me to stare and wonder what it meant. You can scarcely conceive any thing more superb. We descended into the garden, which is laid out with exquisite taste, an