is a very pleasant place of promenade, the water and banks are so pretty, and there is so much liveliness of ships about it. Well I started in a gig, in a swashing rain, which continued off and on for a good while. Of the 21 miles, I should think that 15 were across the New Forest. I do not much admire it. As for Norman William's destruction of houses and churches to make it hunting ground, that is utter nonsense which never could have been written by anybody that ever saw it: but as to hunting, except his horses wore something like mud-pattens or snow-shoes, it is difficult to conceive it. Almost the whole Forest is like a great sponge, water standing in every part. In the part nearer to Xchurch forest trees, especially beeches, seem to grow well. We stopped to bait at Lyndhurst, a small place high up in the Forest: a good view, such as it is, from the churchyard. The hills of the Isle of Wight occasionally in sight. On approaching Xchurch the chalk cliffs of the west end of the Isle of Wight (leading to the Needles) were partly visible; and, as the sun was shining on them, they fairly blazed. Xchurch is a small place with a magnificent-looking church (with lofty clerestory, double transept, &c., but with much irregularity) which I propose to visit to-morrow. Also a ruin which looks like an abbey, but the people call it a castle. There is a good deal of low land about it, and the part between the town and the sea reminded me a good deal of the estuary above Cardigan, flat ill-looking bogs (generally islands) among the water. I walked to the mouth of the river (more than two miles) passing a nice little place called Sandford, with a hotel and a lot of lodgings for summer sea-people. At the entrance of the river is a coastguard station, and this I find is the place to which I must go in the morning to observe the tide. I had some talk with the coastguard people, and they assure me that the tide is really double as reported. As I came away the great full moon was rising, and I could read in her unusually broad face (indicating her nearness to the earth) that there will be a powerful tide. I came in and have had dinner and tea, and am now going to bed, endeavouring to negociate for a breakfast at six o'clock to-morrow morning. It is raining cats and dogs. * * * * * LUCE'S HOTEL, WEYMOUTH, _1842, Feb. 27_.