Between ourselves be it said, however agreeable, however unconstrained may be one's abode in another's house, it is always too constrained, too unaccustomed, above all too dependent for me, proud and fond of ease as I am, ever to feel perfectly at home. This I can be nowhere but within my own walls, and, next to that, in a travelling carriage or an inn. This may not be the best taste in the world, but it is mine. There are so many men who have no taste of their own, at all, that I am delighted with myself for having one, though it be not of the best. I shall therefore not exhaust the term of my invitation, but evacuate my large bed to-morrow, and proceed to Brighton, a watering-place now in great fashion. I have ridden all over the park here, in company with Lord D----'s very kind and polite son. It is less remarkable for features of striking beauty, than for the absence of all defect. Some views through wooded valleys, of the distant Thames, the town of Gravesend and its rising masts, have however a grand character; but nothing can exceed the incomparable skill with which the walls of wood within the park are planted, in masterly imitation of nature. As a study, I should recommend Cobham, in some respects, more than any of the parks I have described; though in extent and costliness it is surpassed by many. It is very modest, but to the admirer of nature its character is only the more delightful and satisfactory. It has also a great variety of hill, valley, and wood. I took leave of Lady D---- in her own room; a little sanctuary, furnished with delightful disorder and profusion:--the walls full of small 'consoles,' surmounted with mirrors and crowded with choice curiosities; and the floor covered with splendid camellias, in baskets, looking as if they grew there. Among these flowers, dear Julia, I take my leave of you. I entreat you to send me an answer of equal length, that your conscience may not reproach you with loving me less than I love you. Your hearty Friend, L----. LETTER XII. _Brighton, Feb. 7th, 1827._ BELOVED, I travelled these sixty miles yesterday with great rapidity, and in the most charming state of indolence, without even the exertion of looking up;--for one must once in a while travel like a fashionable Englishman. It seems that here is a better atmosphere than in any other part of the land of fog; the bright sunshine waked me this morning as early as nine o'clock.