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spelling the name of this town renders it a misnomer and a díss honour, and has been justly resented by the antiquarian taste o Mr Dallaway the vicar, who makes it a point, they say, to restore the old spelling, Lethered. I believe he supposes it to come anagramatically from the Saxon name Ethelred; a thing not at all improbable, transformation of that sort having been common in old times. (See the annotations on Chaucer and Redi.) An Ethelred perhaps had a seat at this place. Epsom, formerly written Ebsham and Ebbesham (Fuller so writes it)his said to bave been named from Ebba, a Saxon princess, who had a pau lace there. Ebba, I suppose, is the same as Emma, cum gratia Mathews. . . . . , pist

.75670 as 110 Leatherhead, like all the towns that tet lodgings during the races, is kept very neat and nice; and though not quite so woody as Epsom, is in a beautiful country, and has to boast of the river Mole. It has also a more venerable church.' Mr Dallaway, like a proper antiquary, has refreshed the interior without spoiling it. Over the main pew is preserved, together with his helmet, anain scription in old English letters to the memory of frendly Robert Gardner," chief Serjeant of “ the Seller" in the year 1571! This was in the time of Elizabeth. : A jovial successor of his is also recorded, to wit,“ Richard Dalton, Esq. Serjeant of the Wine Cellar to King Charles II.But it is on the memory of the other sex that Leatherhead church ought to pride itself. Here are buried three sister Beauclercs, daughters of Lord Henry Beauclerc; who appear to have been three quiet, benevolent old maids, who followed one another quietly to the grave, and had lived doubtless the ad. miration rather than the envy of the village damsels. Here also lies Miss Cholmondeley, another old maid but merry withal, and the delight of all that knew herfi who by one of those frightful accidents that suddenly knock people's souls out, and seem more frightful when they cut short the career of the goodnatured, was killed on the spot at the entrance of this village by the overtuming of the Princess Charlotte's coach, whom she was accompanying on a visit to Norbury Park. A most affectionate epitaph, honourable to all parties, and recording her special attachment to her married şister, is inscribed to her memory by her brother-in-law, -Sir William Bellingham, I think. But above all, “ Here lies all that is mortal" (to use the words of the tombstone) " of Mrs Elizabeth Rolfe," of Dover in Kent, who departed this life in the 67th year of her age, and was “interred by her own desire at the side of her beloved Cousin, Benefactress, and Friend, Lady Catharine Thompson, with whom she buried all worldly happiness. This temporary separation,” continues the epitaph, “no engagements, no pursuits, could render less bitter to the disconsolate Mrs Rolfe, who from the hour she lost her other self knew no pleasures but in the hopes she cherished (on which point her eyes were ever fixed) of joining her Friend in the region of unfading Felicity. Blessed with the Power and Will to succour the distressed, she exercised both; and in these exercises only found a Ray of Happiness. Let the Ridiculers of Female Friendship read this honest Inscription, which disdains to Flatter.”-A record in another part informs us, that Mrs Rolfe gave the parish the interest of 4001. annually in memory of the above, so long as the parish preserves the marble that announces the gift, and the stone that covers her grave. Talking with the parish-clerk, who was otherwise a right and seemly parish-clerk, elderly and withered, with a proper brown wig, he affected, like a man of this world, to speak in disparagement of the phrase "her other self,” which somebody had taught him to consider romantic and an exaggeration. This was being a little too much of “the earth, earthy.". The famous parish-clerk of St Andrews, one of the great professors of humanity in the times of the Deckars and Shakspeares, would have talked in a different strain. There is some more of the epitaph, recommencing in a style somewhat to seek, and after the meditative Burleigh fashion in the Critic; but this does not hinder the rest from being true, or Mrs Rolfe and my lady Thompson from being two genuine human beings, and among the salt of the earth. There is more friendship and virtue in the world, than the world has yet got wisdom enough to know and be proud of; and few things would please me better, than to travel all over England, and fetch out the records of it.god of wells b I must not omit to mention, that Elinor Rummyn, illustrious in the tap-room pages of Skelton, Laureate,” kept a house in this village, and that Mr Dallaway has emblazoned the fact, for the benefit of antiquarian travellers, in the shape of her portrait with an inscription upon ito 9 The house is the Running Horse, near the bridge. Jiw yitom dod bisor blo indtours polobnonlod aiM 29ik In The luxuriance of the country now increases at every step towards Dorking, which is five miles from Leatherhead. You walk through a valley with hills on one side, and wood all about and on your left hand is the Mole, running through fields and flowery hedges. These hills are the turfy downs of Norbury Park, the gate of which you soon arrive at. It is modern, but in good retrospective taste; and stands out into the road with one of those round over-hanging turrets, which seem held forth by the old hand of architecture. A little beyond, you arrive at the lovely village of Mickleham, small, sylvan, and embowered, with a little fat church (for the epithet comes involuntarily at the sight of it), as short and plump as the fattest of its vicars may have been, with a disproportioned bit of a spire on the top, as if he had put on an extinguisher instead of a hat. The inside has been renewed in the proper taste, as if Mr Dallaway had had a hand in it; and there is an organ; which is more than Leatherhead can boast. The organist is the son of the parish-clerk; and when I asked his sister, a modest agreeable-looking girl, who shewed us the church, whether he could not favour us with a voluntary, she told me he was making hay!. What do you say to that? I think this is a piece of Germanism for you. Her father was a day-labourer like the son, and had become organist before him out of a natural love of music. I had fetched the girl from her tea. A decent-looking young man was in the room with her; the door was open, exhibiting the homely comforts inside; a cat slept before it on the cover of the garden well; and there were plenty of herbs and flowers, presenting altogether the appearance of a cottage nest. I will be bound that their musical refinements are a great help to their enjoyment of all this; and that a general lift in their tastes, instead of serving to dissatisfy the poor, would have a reverse effect by increasing the sum of their resources. It would indeed not help to blind them to whatever they might have reason to ask or to complain of. Why should it? But it would refine them there also, and enable them to obtain it more happily, through the means of the diffusion of knowledge on all sides.

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Hos91d The mansion of Norbury Park, formerly the seat of Mr Locke, who appears to have had a deserved reputation for taste in the fine arts, (his daughter married an Angerstein) is situate on a noble elevation upon the right of the village of Mickleham. Between the grounds and the road, are glorious slopes and meadows, superabundant in wood, and pierced by the river Mole. In coming back we turned up a path into them, to look at a farm that was to be let. It belongs to a gentleman, celebrated in the neighbourhood, and we believe elsewhere, for his powers of " conversation ;” but this we did not know at the time. He was absent, and had left his farm in the hands of his steward to be let for a certain time. The house was a cottage, and furnished as becomes a cottage ; but one room we thought would make a delicious study. Probably it is one; for there were books and an easy chair in it. The window looked upon a close bit of lawn, shut in with trees; and round the walls hung a set of prints from Raphael. This looked as if the possessor had something to say for himself. H.

M a ddobolido to We were now in the bosom of the scenery for which this part of the country is celebrated. Between Mickleham and Dorking, on the left, is the famous Box Hill, so called from the trees that grow on it. Part if it presents great bald pieces of chalk; but on the side of Mickleham it has one truly noble aspect, a verdurous wall,” which looks the higher for its being precipitous, and from its having somebody's house at the foot of it,-a white little mansioni in a world of green. Otherwise the size of this hill disappointed us. The river Mole runs at the foot of it. This river, so called from taking part of its course underground, does not plunge into the earth at once, as most people suppose. So at least Dr Aikin informs us, for I did not look into the matter myself. He says, it loses itself in the ground at various points about the neighbourhood, and rises again on the road to Leatherhead. I protest against its being called " sullen,” in spite of what the poets have been pleased

to call it for hiding itself. It is a good and gentle stream, flowing through luxuriant banks, and clear enough where the soil is gra? velly. It hides, just as the nymph might hide; and Drayton gives it a good character, if I remember. Unfortunately I have him not by me.

The town of Dorking disappointed us, especially one of us, who was a good deal there when a child, and who found 'new Londonlooking houses started up in the place of old friends. The people also appeared not so pleasant as their countrymen in general, nor so healthy. There are more King's 'and Duke's Heads in this neighbourhood; signs, which doubtless came in with the Restoration. The Leg of Mutton is the favourite hieroglyphic about the DownsDorking is famous for a breed of fowls with six toes. I do not kuow whether they have any faculty at counting their grain. We did not see Leith Hill, which is the great station for a prospect hereabouts, and upon which Dennis the critic made a lumbering attempt to be lively. You may see it in the two volumes of letters belonging to N. He “ blunders round about a meaning;” and endeavours to act the part of an inspired Cicerone, with oratorical “ flashes in the pan." . One or two of his attempts to convey a particular impression are very ludicrous. Just as you think you are going to catch an idea, they slide off into hopeless generality. Such at least is my impression, from what I remember. I regret that I could not meet at Epsom or Leatherhead, with a Dorking Guide, which has been lately published, and which, I believe, is a work of merit. In the town itself I had not time to think of it: otherwise I might have had some better information to give you regarding spots in the neighbourhood, and persons who have added to their interest. W W E GIODO o ile wat voor in

mi WOOT 5810 "One of these however I know. Turning off to the left for Brockham, we had to go through Betchworth Park, formerly the seat of Abraham Tucker, one of the most amiable and truth-loving of philosophers. Mr Hazlitt made an abridgment of his principal work; but original and abridgment are both out of point. Either of them would surely sell at this moment, when the public begin to be' tired of the eternal jangling and insincerity of criticism, and would fain 'hear what an honest observer has to say. It would only require to be well advertised; not puffed ; for puffing, thank Godle besides being a very unfit announcer of truth, has well nigh cracked his cheeks.

102 MITEN Betchworth Castle is now in the possession of Mr Barclay the brewer, a descendant, if I mistake not, of the famous Barclay of Urie, the apologist of the Quakers. If this gentleman is the same as the one mentioned in Boswell's Life of Johnson, he is by nature as well as descent worthy of occupying the abode of a wise man. Or if he is not, why shouldn't he be worthy after his fashion? You remember the urbane old bookworm, who conversing with a young gentleman, more remarkable for gentility than beauty, and under:

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standing for the first time that he had sisters, said, in a transport of the gratuitous, “ Doubtless very charming young ladies, Sir." I will not take it for granted, that all the Barclays are philosophers; but something of a superiority to the vulgar, either in talents or the love of them, may be more reasonably expected in this kind of hereditary rank than the common one. 19

ve rot aldierog 1 With Mr Tucker and his chesnut groves. I will conclude, having in fact nothing to say of Brockham except that it was the boundary of our walk. Yes; I have one thing, and a pleasant one, which is, that I met there by chance with the younger brother of a family whom I had known in my childhood, and who are eminent to this day for a certain mixture of religion and joviality, equally uncommon and good-hearted. May old and young continue not to know which shall live the longest. I do not mean religion or joviality b but both in their shape.nasi wodi ojai fuq 0988 dwogbelwool to

Believe me, dear Sir, very truly yours.--Mine is not so novel or luxurious a journey as the one you treated us with the other day which I mention, because one journey always makes me long for another; and I hope not many years will pass over your head, before you give us a second Ramble, in which I may see Italy once again, and hear with more accomplished ears the sound of her music. Jon as I oldini os bilsted busi914 Bon ob I sud modt qed

ilm 918 yod!

THE COMPANION'S FAREWELL TO HIS READERS."

The COMPANION here closes his public appearance in that character. I would have, continued the work with pleasure, had circumstances allowed me; but though it has succeeded perhaps beyond what might have been expected during the present ostentatious and busy imposition of gross goods on the public, I could neither pay it attention enough, nor afford to wait time enough, to get it up to a sale that should indemnify all parties concerned, without more help than the speculation was thought to warrant. i I therefore take leave of my readers; shaking them by the hand all round, after the fashion in which they have encouraged me; and hoping to meet them again under circumstances more favourable. It has happened, that the composition of this work, like that of the Indicator, has taken place at one of the most painful periods of my life; which I mention for several reasons ; first, because I like to be explicit among friends; second, because it will serve to excuse the hurry and negligence of a great deal of the style zand third, because I think it useful as well as pleasant to be able to tell the reader, that the pleasures I have described myself as feeling on many océasions have nevertheless been as genuine as my cares, and that the love of pature, and the pursuit of truth and good, are never without their conso lations.

At no time do I pretend to be exempt from error. So far from it, and so little claim for reputation do I, seek, apart from that love of truth which it is within the power of every heart, not absolutely foolish, to learn the value of, that I could as soon compare notes with regard to my faults as my good qualities, in order to see what we might all do for the better, if in these midway times between past opinions and future, men's minds

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