.

It is difficult to imagine anything which more completely realises the
poetical fancy, that the pillars and arches of a Gothic cathedral were
borrowed from the interlacing of the branches of trees planted at stated
intervals, than this avenue, in which Nature has so completely succeeded
in outrivalling her handmaiden Art, that not a single trunk, hardly even
a bough or a twig, appears to mar the grand regularity of the design as
a piece of perspective. No cathedral aisle was ever more perfect; and
the effect, under every variety of aspect, the magical light and shadow
of the cold white moonshine, the cool green light of a cloudy day, and
the glancing sunbeams which pierce through the leafy umbrage in
the bright summer noon, are such as no words can convey. Separately
considered, each tree (and the north of Hampshire is celebrated for the
size and shape of its elms) is a model of stately growth, and they are
now just at perfection, probably about a hundred and thirty years old.
There is scarcely perhaps in the kingdom such another avenue.

On one side of this noble approach is the garden, where, under the care
of the skilful and excellent gardener, Mr. Cooper, so many magnificent
dahlias are raised, but where, alas! the Phoebus was not; and between
that and the mansion is the sunny, shady paddock, with its rich pasture
and its roomy stable, where, for so many years, Copenhagen, the
charger who carried the Duke at Waterloo, formed so great an object of
attraction to the visiters of Strathfield-saye.* Then came the house
itself and then I returned home. Well! this was one beautiful and
fruitless drive. The ruins of Reading Abbey formed another as fruitless,
and still more beautiful.

* Copenhagen--(I had the honour of naming one of Mr.
Cooper's dahlias after him--a sort of _bay_ dahlia, if I may
be permitted the expression)--Copenhagen was a most
interesting horse. He died last year at the age of twenty-
seven. He was therefore in his prime on the day of Waterloo,
when the duke (then and still a man of iron) rode him for
seventeen hours and a half, without dismounting. When his
Grace got off, he patted him, and the horse kicked, to the
great delight of his brave rider, as it proved that he was
not beaten by that tremendous day's work. After his return,
this paddock was assigned to him, in which he passed the
rest of his life in the most perfect comfort that