e way within that
violated enclosure. But it was only a very tiny raid we made. We stood
quietly for two or three minutes, just _feeling_ the place, then
scurried hastily away like two timorous hares; and as I have since lost
a much prized little fern-leaf plucked within the enclosure, I think Mr.
Tennyson should agree that this intrusive American has been quite
severely enough punished, and that much ought to be forgiven one who has
loved so much.

There really is one spot in England where "skies are blue and bright"
uniformly, and, in the Undercliff, where no harsh winds come. And the
whole island--with its smiling loveliness, its miniature sublimity, all
its varying scenery, all its old landmarks, its rich story, its soft yet
sparkling air, its dainty English culture, the sea that one never loses
for long--is a honeymoon paradise. It can have been intended for nothing
else. But it should be a pedestrian honeymoon. _They_ should come to
Ryde, leave all impedimenta to be sent forward to Ventnor by rail, and
Madame in a serviceable walking-dress that need not be hideous, a
sun-hat, with a strap holding her waterproof cloak, Monsieur with wraps,
a bag containing the indispensable toilet necessaries, an umbrella and
guide-book, should set gayly forth on their enchanted way. What a month
in the romantic byways, over hill, down dale, in the old churches,
churchyards, ivied ruins, through the ideal villages, resting amidst the
heather on a down's summit, on the sands of a little scallop of a bay,
stopping for food and sleep at the comfortable quaint inns or the
sometimes "swell" hotels that are nowhere many miles asunder--seeing it,
having it all together--the idyllic spot in the idyllic time!

And to American invalids it seems to me the Undercliff is far less known
as a winter resort than it deserves to be. It is perfectly sheltered,
yet has none of the dampness of Torquay and most of the other
south-of-England health-resorts. And to invalids who speak no language
save their own it must be infinitely pleasanter to abide where they hear
their own tongue, where home comforts and home ways are joined to the
other advantages they have come to seek. There is all the accessible
beauty of walk and drive, ever-changing aspects of sea, shore, sky and
crag, of which it would be difficult to tire, and a delicious languor in
the mental atmosphere inexpressibly soothing to worn brain and nerves.

S. F. HOPKINS.

SOLACE.