“Meantime you gain the height, from whose fair brow The bursting prospect spreads immense around, And snatch’d o’er hill, and dale, and wood, and lawn, And verdant fields, and darkening heath between, And villages embosom’d soft in trees, And spiring towns, by surging columns mark’d Of household smoke, your eye excursive roams, Wide stretching from the hall, {113} in whose kind haunt The hospitable genius lingers still, To where the broken landscape, by degrees Ascending, roughens into rigid hills.” The spectator, if he has any taste for the sublime and beautiful in nature, will find himself abundantly repaid for the labour of the ascent. His eyes will wander with pleasure over the beautiful villas, the retreat of the rich and affluent, diversified with woods and corn-fields, that present themselves on the fertile plain adjoining the hill. Immediately before him, he will discover the ancient town of Shrewsbury, with its lofty spires, its noble river and canal, whilst in the distance a range of green mountains, interspersed with woods, that seem to be carelessly scattered on their sloping sides, form a suitable background to this picturesque and interesting scene. Descending from the hill, we immediately reach the pleasant village of Uffington, situated on the banks of the Severn, where at the Bowling Green excellent accommodations will be met with. From hence the canal and river side afford a pleasant walk, which reconducts us to our starting place—Shrewsbury. Attingham Hall,