is justly compared to “an immense lake; for, the mouth not being at any distance visible, the whole haven seems land-locked. Though it is a mile and three quarters wide, it could not be defended against an enemy, nor is there a sufficiency of timber in the neighbourhood. {80b} “This haven is formed by a great advance of the sea into the land, it being above ten miles from the southernmost point at Nangle to Pembroke, beyond which the tide comes up to and beyond Carew Castle. It is capable of holding the whole navy of England; and the same is said of Cork Harbour. {80c} The spring tides rise thirty-six feet, the neap above twenty-six. Ships may be out of this haven in an hour’s time; and in eight or ten hours over at Ireland, or the Land’s End; and this with almost any wind, by day or night.” “In surveying the estuary of Milford Haven,” says a writer, whom we shall frequently have occasion to quote, “expanding into one of the finest harbours in all Europe, and wearing the appearance of an immense lake, sufficiently large to contain the entire navy of the British Crown, secure from winds and tempests, and where a large fleet might manœuvre with the greatest safety,—what ideas of power and magnificence are awakened in the mind! Then by a magic glance we traverse the tempestuous Channel to the Irish coast, and call to mind the various crimes and injuries which that ill-fated country has committed and received. Returning to the spot whence we had travelled, beholding the creeks and bays, the woods, and various agreeable accompaniments, which embellish this majestic estuary; who is there that does not derive the highest satisfaction in recalling to memory the beautiful scene in Cymbeline, where Imogen, in the character of Fidele, has flowers sprinkled over her grave, and a solemn dirge performed in honour of her memory?” Our reception at the miserable place of HUBBERSTON did not induce us to stay longer than was sufficient to recruit ourselves. We found the dirty inn pre-occupied by unfortunate Irish refugees: their situation was indeed melancholy; driven from their country, their friends, and all most dear to them!—And wishing to forget their past sufferings, the following lines seem applicable to their situation: “Oh! could oblivion’s friendly draught Soothe all our sorrows to repose; Nor that intruder, restless thought, Renew our agonizing woes! “Then, all unconscious of the past, The present hour might calmly glide; Keen retrospect no more be cast O’er life’s tempestuous, changeful tide: “Yet Heaven, to all its creatures kind, With peace can gild the deepest gloom; And, ’mid misfortune’s wrecks, the mind May sweet serenity assume.” Having refreshed ourselves, we walked to MILFORD,