transferred in a great degree to the very soil, to its culture, and to its embellishment. Nature itself seemed to have borrowed a grace, and a glory, from the holy Faith, of which such monuments were visible at every turn, in spires and towers peering above the green trees, and gleaming amid the wide-spread bounties of God, whose adorable name they seemed to display as the giver of all. As we slowly ascended the slope of Cooper’s Hill, walking behind our carriage, and surveying the scene to right and left, with reflections such as these, we heard a note from the deep foliage of Birdlip Wood, which arrested us, and brought to my mind many scraps of poetry, such as Logan’s, or Wordsworth’s— ————shall I call thee bird, Or but a wandering voice? It was the cuckoo! I had never heard it before, except in wooden imitation from the perch of a German clock. I shall not soon forget its effects, upon the still beauty of the hour and the scene, as I heard it for the first time, in nature’s own sweet modulations and heart-touching pathos. Hucklecot new Church we only sighted, but at Upton St. Leonard’s we made a halt, and visited the Church, the parsonage, and the school. The Church was a gem of its kind, with interesting monuments and architectural objects, and had been freshly restored. The schools were lately built by a munificent lady of rank, and the parsonage was apparently new; the whole furnishing another instance of what is going on, almost universally. Passing Robinwood-hill on the left, as we continued our drive, we soon entered Gloucester, of which the glorious cathedral tower had long been the conspicuous object in our view.