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fatal to him; but his only reply was, that he had reflected on the dangers he ran, and that he would rather die than not be of the party. He was therefore allowed to proceed, with the recommendation to be prudent.

In two hours they reached the extremity of the Oberaar glacier, and paid a visit to the hut of a shepherd, which was wretched enough; it was a mere kennel, composed of four walls, and a stone roof, through which the wind blew without mercy. The shepherd was a poor little boy of twelve years old; ill clothed, sickly in appearance, weak in himb, and stupid in expression. Provisions for three months had been sent to him from Valais, consisting of black bread, almost as hard as the stones of his hut, and a little dried-up cheese. At ten o'clock the party arrived at the summit of the Col de l'Oberaar, after crossing with great difficulty numerous fissures covered only with a frail bridge of snow. The thermometer indicated 35° Fahr. The summit of the Col is 10,023 feet above the level of the sea: it is about 100 feet broad, and is enclosed between two large peaks, the highest of which on the north is the Oberaar horn. The party spent a quarter of an hour contemplating the view commanded by this elevated point; gazing on the multitude of gigantic peaks which rose on all sides, some of them like huge gothic spires, others resembling immense cupolas covered with snow.

were desirous likewise to become acquainted with its nature and cause. It was an immense fissure of more than 100 feet in width, and of a depth varying from 100 to 300 feet. At the place from which we examined it, it had no other opening but the small loop-hole of which I have spoken; but farther on it corresponded to a large crevice, open near the right bank, by which the light entered, and the intermediate roof, by tempering the reflection of the snow walls, gave them an indescribable mildness and beauty."

After proceeding for nearly an hour along the fields of snow, the party entered upon the névé. As walking upon the latter is much easier than on the snow, it is usually the part of the glacier preferred to every other. That of Viesch was remarkable, when our travellers passed over it, for the quantity of red snow which it contained, and which, at a distance, imparted to it a rose-coloured reflection. As the minute organisms which compose red snow are usually accumulated in greatest numbers some lines below the surface, they were rendered more apparent by trampling upon them; and each step taken left as it were a bloody mark, which the eye could follow to a great distance.

that this dangerous path is really the only way to the upper pastures, and that the shepherds hoist up the sheep by means of ropes tied to the horns, or, when these are wanting, round the neck. The shepherds themselves do not at other times often pass this way; for, when the sheep are once over it, they are left to themselves till the autumn, and are only visited by a shepherd from time to time, for purpose of supplying them with salt.

The increasing elevation soon became apparent by the appearance of needles of ice; and soon the glacier of Viesch began to assume that irregular appearance, which gives it the character of being one of the most varied in the Valais. On the From this Col the party descended to the pla- right side of this glacier the most difficult passage teau of snow which feeds the glacier of Viesch. It was encountered. The party had to descend a wall is a vast circus of more than half a league in dia- of rock nearly vertical and very high, at the foot meter, in the centre of which they halted for of which fell a beautiful cascade. The path was a dinner, a dinner as frugal as it well could be, but kind of opening, which presented here and there which was nevertheless delicious, thanks to the some slight projections on which the foot rested. seasoning of a good appetite. While thus engaged, When these points of support were insufficient, the thick mists rose on the right, and the instruments passenger was obliged to cling in the best way he seemed to agree in presaging rain. This made the could against the walls of the opening, assisting party resolve to descend to the châlets of Maril, himself with his pole, which is always ready to even though, by so doing, some leagues would be lean upon; or he was forced to call for the help of added to the next day's journey. They, therefore, one of the guides-a step, however, which his selfdescended the fields of snow, which extend south-love made him unwilling to adopt. It appears wards towards the Valais. The surface was smooth, the crevices had almost entirely disappeared, or, if any were still to be seen, they were on the sides of the valley, never extending so far as the place over which our travellers were walking. "We were thus advancing in perfect serenity," says M. Desor, the narrator of the expedition, "when we remarked, at some distance from us, many small openings. Curious to know the cause, we turned aside to examine them, but what was our surprise, when, The party continued to travel towards their on looking into one of these sky-lights, which was resting-place for the night, and arrived, about six not more than three inches broad, by a foot long, o'clock, at the cottages of Maril, where the shepwe saw that it concealed an immense precipice, herds received them cordially, and promised to and in this precipice an azure light prevailed, which supply them with the best they could afford. These surpassed in beauty, transparency, and softness, all châlets are situated in a little valley at an elevation that we had hitherto seen among glaciers! What of about 6,000 feet, and, although not very coma pity that I have not the power of reproducing, fortable, they are of great utility to naturalists. in language worthy of the subject, all the poetry They occupy a central point in the midst of the that was embodied in this simple combination of glaciers, whence researches can be made in any light and snow! Never had I seen a more attrac- direction. From this point the party were to comtive spectacle; our eyes were so fascinated by it, mence their journey to the Jungfrau, when an unthat we did not at first perceive that the crust of foreseen circumstance had nearly thwarted their snow which covered this enchanted cavern did not designs. "In order to attempt such an ascent, a exceed in this place a few inches; I do not, how-ladder was indispensable; we had not brought one ever, think that we ran very great danger, for the with us, because Jacob, who accompanied M. Hugi snow was very compact, and the sun had not in 1832, had left the one he then used near the great softened it that day. After contemplating the fissure. He had not the least doubt that he would attractive effect of this unique phenomenon, we find it again nine years afterwards in the same spot

the

above another, by which the ascent was to be made. Leaving the party for a time at this convenient halting-place, we reserve for another occasion the account of the more perilous part of their journey.

SCENERY OF THE GREAT WESTERN RAILWAY.
No. II.

where he left it. What, therefore, was his sur- I was distinguished a series of terraces rising one prise, when he learnt from a shepherd that his ladder had been carried away some years before by a peasant of Viesch! He instantly despatched a messenger to the village to demand back his ladder, but the detainer refused to restore it, alleging that it was now his property, because he had had it repaired. Let any one conceive our disappointment, when, at midnight, our delegate returned empty-handed! What were we now to do? Were we to delay our journey for another day? That would have been to sin against our star which visibly protected us, for all the mists of the previous evening were dispersed, and there was not a cloud in the sky. Should we attempt the ascent without a ladder? Jacob assured us that was altogether impossible. Not knowing what plan to adopt, we decided on sending off a second messenger to this refractory personage, to intimate to him that if he did not instantly restore our property, we would come down in a body to Viesch, to do ourselves justice. This second messenger left us at midnight, promising to execute our orders promptly. At four o'clock in the morning every one was awake, waiting with anxiety for the messenger, who failed to appear; five o'clock approached, and he had not returned, and still the sky continued as clear as at midnight. At last we saw him approach-modation of the most luxurious class. ing with the ladder on his back. A cry of joy resounded through the air, and in an instant every one was prepared for starting."

The party then advanced to the Lake Mæril, from the margin of which they ascended to the glacier of Aletsch. At a place where the glacier bends, a magnificent view was obtained in two directions, in one of which the Jungfrau stood out grandly, and seemed to invite to perseverance.

"Who first beholds those everlasting clouds-
Those mighty hills, so shadowy, so sublime,
As rather to belong to heaven than earth-
But instantly receives into his soul
A sense, a feeling that he loses not---
A something that informs him 'tis an hour
Whence he may date henceforward and for ever."
Rogers.

From the place where the party mounted the glacier, to the point where the ascent becomes steep, the distance is reckoned to be six leagues, but this was traversed in less than four hours. At half-past nine they arrived at the snow-fields, which commence with the ascent. Here the party halted at a place which they named "The Repose,' because the passage they had made, and the immense heights which rose in stages in front of them, seemed naturally to invite to rest and refreshment.

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The Repose is described as one of the most beautiful situations on a glacier that can possibly be met with. It faces an immense amphitheatre, in which five great confluent branches of the glacier of the Aletsch become confounded with each other. Two of the most considerable of these occupy the background; they descend, one from the sides of the Jungfrau, and the other from the summit of Mönch. The three others are more lateral. The Mönch on the right, and the Jungfrau on the left, are in some measure the two columns of the great amphitheatre, which in this place separates the Swiss plain from the Valais. To the west of "The Repose" a vast hollow extended downwards between the Jungfrau and Kranzberg, and in this

ton, from which it is distant eighteen miles. It is one THE Slough Station is the next first-class to Paddingof the most important points on the Railway; for, besides the population of Windsor and Eton, the influx of visitors to Windsor Castle is very great. Her Majesty, the Court, and attendants, also continually pass to and from London; and in the Station are two receptionrooms, very handsomely furnished, for the Queen's use. The building is very spacious; all the trains stop here, and stand under a covered shed, removed from the main line; the whole station being upon its south side. In the court-yard is a vast hotel, most superbly furnished, in most cases from the state-rooms of Louis XIV. and XV.; the principal bed-chamber is hung with Gobelin tapestry from Versailles, and the fittings are mostly in right royal taste, presenting accom

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since the Conquest; but the ancient palace was at Old
Windsor has been the residence of the sovereign
Windsor, on the mead. The mound occupied by the
round tower of the present castle was, no doubt,
William's work, but no traces of his masonry remain.
Henry I. rebuilt the castle. Edward III. was born
here. In 1359, he began to pull down the old structure,
and, under the direction of William of Wykeham, re-
built it upon a more ample plan. To this period is due
the round tower; and "the general plan of the castle,
its concentric defences, its flanking towers, and heavy
gateways," says the author of the folio History before
us, "are all manifestly Edwardian." The chapel of St.
George was built by Edward IV. and the Seventh and
Eighth Henries; and the tomb-house is the addition of
Wolsey. Rickman pronounces the chapel to be one of
the finest perpendicular buildings in the kingdom.
'Henry VII." says the History," added to the castle a
pile of buildings in the upper ward, next the royal
lodgings; Henry VIII. rebuilt the great gate of the
lower ward. Edward VI. brought a supply of water
from Blackmore Park, in Winkfield. Elizabeth made
the celebrated north terrace; and Charles I. and II.
augmented the royal lodgings." One of Charles the
Second's improvements was to lengthen the terrace to
1870 feet, thus making it the noblest walk in Europe.
Various alterations were made by succeeding princes,
down to our own time, when, about the year 1804,
George III. took up his residence here; though the
good king and his family had lived at Windsor in a
lath-and-plaster lodge thirty years before it occurred to
him to inhabit his own castle. The great restoration
was, however, commenced by George IV. in 1824, under
Sir Jeffrey Wyattville. In 1828, the king removed to
the private apartments on the south side of the castle.
The entire work was not completed until the reign of his
successor, William IV. It has cost the country upwards
of a million, but no expenditure of the public money has
been more satisfactory. The style of the building is
old, while the material is new; and the harmony of

parts is so complete as to form a whole of almost inex| pressible massiveness and grandeur. The most prominent addition in the view from the Railway is the keep, or round tower, heightened by some thirty feet; and, as says the poet Bowles,-"most imposing is its distant view, when the broad banner floats, or sleeps, in the sunshine amidst the intense blue of the summer skies; whilst its picturesque and ancient architectural vastness harmonizes with the decaying and gnarled oaks, coeval with so many departed monarchs." Von Raumer, on his visit in 1835, acknowledged Windsor to have made a greater impression on him than all the other castles he had ever seen put together. This is high praise from a native of Germany, where feudalism has left so many stately monuments of its frowning glory. Windsor," says the acute critic, "combines the originality of the middle ages with the highest pitch of splendour and comfort which our times can reach. It is not an empty, tedious, monotonous repetition of the same sort of rooms over and over again; but every staircase, every gallery, every room, every hall, nay, every window, is different, surprising, peculiar; in one word, poetical. . . . In Windsor, England's history-so rich with recollections-suddenly stands before my eyes. There are gigantic towers, bastions, chapels, churches, and knightly halls, in fresh and boundless variety; at every step, new views over rivers, valleys, woods, and fields; the fancies of a thousand years crowded together into one instant."

ceace.

We remember to have seen the Castle under very effective circumstances on a dark night during the visit of the King of the French, in 1844-when a flood of light streamed through the principal windows in the northern front, protracted through the entire eastern side; it was, even from without, a scene of right regal hospitality, carrying the mind's eye back to the chivalric glories of the feudal age in which the palace was built, and assuring us that, in the long vista of centuries, Windsor has not lost a ray of its splendour and magnifiTo the public, the Castle has lately acquired an additional interest, from their free admission to inspect its interior; and so far has their recreation been studied, that a catalogue of its treasures has been prepared at the instance of the Prince Consort, and is sold to the masses at a merely nominal price. And there cannot be a more gratifying or beneficial sight for a monarchy-loving people than to see their sovereign mingling with crowds of her loving subjects, beneath her own palace-windows, and their children following the very foot-marks of royalty: such a scene of harmony may often be witnessed on the terraces of majestic Windsor. The view from the round tower, unequalled for richness of scenery, will impress the beholder with the secret of the nation's greatness, as he traces the fertilizing course of "Father Thames," nowhere more beautiful than where he is seen

To sweep
Round Windsor's castled steep
His waters to the distant deep;
Now hid behind some rising mound,
Some swell of intervening ground,
Or woods, whose waving top betrays
The distant windings of his maze;
Now to one sheet of silver spread,
Now foaming in his narrowing bed;
As though some guardian goddess gave
Her brightness to the crystal wave."

On the banks of the Thames, opposite to Windsor Castle, and between it and the Railway, lies Eton, with its ancient chapel, and group of venerable buildings composing the College; a scene tinged with the picturesque melancholy of the poet Gray:

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Between Eton and the Railway, lies Slough, with its Norman church, the burial-place of Sir W. Herschel, the frame of whose forty-feet telescope may still be seen in his garden on the Windsor Road. The benefits of the Railway contact are evident in every direction; from the little road-side inn to the luxurious villa. A geological fact of interest is thus recorded in the Railway History: "The section of a well at Slough gives of gravel sixteen feet, yellow clay fifteen and a-half feet, wet sand thirty-two feet, mottled clay eleven feet; total, seventy-four and a-half feet, at which depth the chalk and chalk-flints were reached, and a plentiful supply of good water rose to the level of the rails. This is the first indication of the chalk formation here covered up by the plastic clay."

The Electric Telegraph has been for some time laid down upon the Railway: it was at first laid between London and Drayton, a distance of thirteen miles; and it has lately been completed to Slough, with a view to a still further extension to Buckingham Palace at the one end, and to Windsor Castle at the other. This is the invention patented by Mr. Cooke and Mr. Wheatstone: it consists generally of a number of wires, suspended separately in the air by a series of upright standards of cast-iron, varying from ten to twenty-five feet in height, and placed sometimes as much as one hundred and fifty yards apart. These wires communicate with the different stations, at each of which is a small machine, by means of which a galvanic battery is put in action, and signals are read off upon a dial, or given by pressing upon keys, resembling in appearance those of a piano-forte. As the velocity of the electric fluid, when travelling along a good conductor, is estimated at about 200,000 miles per second, the transmission of signals is practically instantaneous; and the conversation, by means of keys, may be carried on by an experienced person almost as rapidly as a familiar piece of music could be played.

The Electric Telegraph is worked at Slough in a small wood-built station, placed upon a slight eminence, to which there are steps of ascent; and the Telegraph in action may here be inspected at the exhibition charge of a shilling. By aid of the marvellous power of this triumph of science, the event of Her Majesty's accouchement at Windsor Castle, Aug. 6, 1844, was communicated from Slough to Paddington, and an acknowledgment of the message returned to Slough.

within eleven minutes!

We must spare room for a few other performances of this Telegraph. Thus, in January 1845, the flight of Tawell, then suspected of murder, was communicated from Slough after he had left that station by a train; the intelligence was received at Paddington, and acknowledged, long before Tawell's arrival there; and thus he was followed by the police, and eventually captured! The vast importance of this application of the Telegraph produced in the public mind a startling conviction of its utility to the welfare of society. By this Telegraph, too, has been accomplished the apparent paradox of sending a message in the year 1845, and receiving it in the year 1844! Thus, directly after the clock had struck twelve on the night of the 31st of December, the Superintendent at Paddington signalled his brother at Slough that he wished him a

happy new year; an answer was instantly returned, | suggesting that the wish was premature, as the year had not yet arrived at Slough!

Upon leaving Slough, the Railway is seen to have approached nearly to the boundary of the Thames, and to run at the foot of a well-wooded range, forming the rising ground upon the north. On the summit of the hill above the Station is seen the cupola of Stoke Pogis House, not far from the site of the mansion built by the Earls of Huntingdon, in the reign of Elizabeth, and celebrated by Gray, in his "Long Story:"

"In Britain's Isle-no matter where

An ancient pile of building stands:
The Huntingdons and Hattons there
Employ'd the power of fairy hands.”

In

The estate is now possessed by Mr. Penn, a descendant of Penn, of Pennsylvania, and representative of the old stock of Penn, of Penn, in this county. the park is the memorial to Gray, erected by Mr. Penn; and the spire of Stoke Church may be seen rising from massy foliage, and the "Church-yard" of Gray's " Elegy." But the village church, and park, with Eton and its College, are all eulogized in Gray's verse; and it is scarcely possible to point to a locality which is more closely identified in lyric poetry than are Stoke and Eton.

There is, however, still another memorial to be noticed in this poetic region-the "Mons," or Mount, whence the famed festival of the "Montem," or " Ad Montem," derives its name. It is celebrated triennially; next year will be its enactment, the last "Montem" having been in 1844, when it was a strange anomaly to see the Etonians, in their superb costumes of centuries since, collecting "salt" of the railway passengers: it was bringing the past and present into very suggestive association. D'Israeli, by the way, has given us a charming picture of the Montem, in his very characteristic novel of " Coningsby."

Just west of Stoke lies Farnham Royal, which is held of the crown by one of those feudal tenures which carry us back to the most picturesque age of our history; the possession being by the service of supporting the king's right arm, and providing a glove for his right hand, when holding the royal sceptre at a coronation. A little below Farnham is Ballies, a quadrangular brick mansion, once the residence of the polite Earl of Chester field. The Railway History, too, notes: Burnham, the next parish, gives name to a hundred and deanery. An abbey of Benedictine nuns, founded here in 1165, was dissolved at the Reformation. The church is large, and contains some irregular perpendicular windows. in it hangs an escutcheon of Hastings of Woodlands, with the hundred quarterings of that illustrious race."

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On the south side of the Railway, between Slough and Taplow, the country lies open to the Thames. The Taplow or Maidenhead Station, twenty-two and a-half miles from London, marks the point to which the Railway first opened in June, 1838; it lies here upon an embankment, crosses the Great Western turnpike road by an oblique brick bridge, and we soon reach the Maidenhead bridge.

This celebrated bridge is composed of a central pier and two main arches, flanked at either end by four smaller openings; it is of brick, finished with stone. The Maidenhead bridge is peculiar, inasmuch as it consists of two arches only, each 130 feet span and 24 feet rise, which are probably the largest, and are certainly the flattest in proportion to their span, yet executed in brick. The reason of its construction with two arches instead of a greater number, was the existence of a shoal, affording an excellent foundation for the pier, in the middle of the river; and the necessity of leaving the sides and deeper parts of the stream open for the navigation. "The latter cause on the one hand," states the History," combined with the importance of preserving uniform the gradients of the Railway on the other,

governed also the height of the arches." As this bridge was a novelty in engineering, its failure was pretty generally predicted; and some bad cement being used in the construction, the northern arch proved faulty, was condemned by the engineer, taken down, and rebuilt. The southern arch, however, remains as it was originally built; and the entire bridge, since the removal of the centerings, has stood with less than the ordinary amount of settlement. The view from this fine work is very charming; in the distance the hanging woods of Taplow and Cliefden,

“With their beechen wreaths, the king of rivers crowning," ascend from the margin of the stream, and terminate in the imposing façade of Cliefden House. The view in the opposite direction commands the river, - Flowing,

To Windsor-ward amain,"

and extends over St. Leonard's and the Castle, including much of the park. The old Maidenhead bridge lies at a short distance; it is a many-arched structure, which loses much in contrast with the very bold railway work.

Next Maidenhead lies Bray, famed for its ancient manor-house at Ockholt, which the Abingdon family have suffered to fall into ruin. The parish church of Bray stands near the Thames, and is seen near the Railway: it has a fine lofty tower, and some good transition windows; though the church is more popular in association with "the Vicar of Bray," who has been cited as a political turncoat, from the reign of Henry VI., when, according to Fuller, this "vivacious vicar" lived. In four reigns he was, first a Papist, then a Protestant, then a Papist, then a Protestant. The vicar," says quaint old Fuller, "being taxed by one for being a turncoat, Not so,' said he, for I always kept my principles, which is this: to live and die Vicar of Bray.'

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North of the Railway lies Bysham, once a Preceptory of the Temple. It had, too, a fine monastery, in the church of which were buried many of the Montacute and Neville families, including the king-maker Warwick. All the monumental glories of its illustrious dead were swept away after the Dissolution, and even the site of the abbey-church cannot with certainty be traced. An early English doorway, and a few other fragments of the abbey, are built into the modern mansion named Bysham Abbey.

The Railway remains for some distance upon a high chalk embankment, crossing the roads between Bray and Maidenhead upon a series of very lofty bridges. The Twyford Station, thirty-three and three-quarter miles from London, is timber-built; thence the line

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As still we see the much runs ever to the more."

The Railway cutting next west that of Loddon, is that of Sonning, nearly two miles long, and varying from twenty to sixty feet deep. At the latter depth, "the top breadth, at the slope of one foot horizontal for twothirds of a foot perpendicular, is 220 feet. One of the objections brought against the Great Western gauge was the increased amount of the earth-work required, which was stated to be as seven to five, or as the difference between the new and the old gauge. The cross section of the deepest part of this cutting, allowing a width of thirty feet for the railway, and ten feet for the side drains, gives 867 cubic yards of excavation for each yard in length; had the gauge of the Railway been, instead of seven, of the old width of five feet, allowing

a width of twenty-three feet for the railway, and ten | delightful picture of the borough, under the name of feet, as before, for the drains, the earth-work for each "Belford Regis." yard in length would have been 820 yards; the difference being only about forty-seven cube yards, or as 867 to 820." — (History of the Railway.) At its deepest part this cutting is crossed by two bridges, one of which carries the Great Western turnpike-road from London towards Reading.

On leaving the Sonning cutting, the Railway enters once more the valley of the Thames, at a point where Clear Kennet overtakes

His lord, the stately Thames,"

and traverses the rich alluvial meads of Reading.
The Reading Station, thirty-five and three-quarter
miles from London, is in plan like that at Slough; and you
are soon reminded that you have reached a place of
importance. Reading is the flourishing county-town of
Berkshire; and, within the present century, has doubled
its population, the number in 1801 being 9,742, and in
1841, 19,528. It is a borough, returning two members

It had also a Norman

to Parliament; one of whom, Mr. Charles Russell, is
also Chairman of the Great Western Railway Company.
The town appears to be of Saxon origin, and its posses-
sion was much contested by the Saxons and Danes in
the ninth and tenth centuries.
castle, destroyed in 1153. A mitred Abbey of Bene-
dictines was founded here by Henry I. in 1121, and the
church was consecrated by Becket in 1164. Within its
walls were buried the founder, and his queen Adeliza;
and probably their daughter Maud, the wife of the
Emperor Henry IV., and mother of Henry II. of Eng-
land. Her epitaph, recorded by Camden, has been de-
servedly admired :

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"Magna ortu, majorque viro, sed maxima partu; Hie jacet Henrici filia, sponsa, parens."

From Reading may be seen the fine domain of Caversham Park, on the Oxfordshire bank of the Thames. It was, till lately, a seat of the Cadogan family, who were formerly Barons of Reading. At Caversham lived the wittiest of English divines, Dr. South.

The Railway leaves the Reading Station as it arrived there, upon embankment, and then passes into cuttings, one of which divides Purley Park into two parts. The mansion, Purley Hall, sometimes mistaken for Horne Tooke's "Purley," was built for Law, of South Sea notoriety; and Warren Hastings resided here during his memorable trial. The Railway here lies close to the south bank of the Thames, and commands a fine view of the woods and Elizabethan house of Maple-Durham, the ancient seat of the Blounts.

From the Purley cutting the line is carried_over an embankment, to the village and Station of Pangbourne, forty-one miles and a quarter from London. The Station is, generally, Elizabethan, broad-eaved, and not unpicturesque. Pangbourne is named from its fine Reading and Oxford road, which is crossed by the Rail trout stream, the Pang: it is a pretty village, upon the way close to the station, upon an oblique red-brick bridge. Opposite Pangbourne, on the Thames, lies Whitchurch, noticeable for its church of good Norman work, and perpendicular and decorated windows.

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The Railway," says our complete History, "now into the Shooter's Hill cutting, under Basildon Park, the fairly lies within the ravine of the Thames," passing finely-wooded estate of Mr. Morison, M.P., who has lately proposed some very salutary legislative enactments for the better management of railways. Mr. Morison has realized a large fortune as a warehouseman in Forestreet, Cripplegate; and, some years since, became the purchaser of Fonthill Abbey. The mansion at Basildon is in the classic style of the last century : its festal capabilities were lately put in requisition, when Mr. Morison entertained, in most sumptuous style, the Lord Mayor, and a large party of the corporation of London, on their

Within the abbey, parliaments were convened, from the twelfth to the fifteenth centuries. At the Dissolution by Henry VIII., its revenues were equal to 20,000l. per annum, present money; and from thence to the reign of Chanes 1. the Abbey was a royal residence. In 1642, the lown was fortified by the parliament, taken by the king, and retaken from Sir Arthur Aston by Essex; whose entrenchments may still be traced across the valley. In 1688, the only officer who fell in the Revolution, was Sain in a skirmish with James's troops at Reading. The At Basildon, (says our illustrated guide,) the source of eminent prosperity of the borough was, in the main, the the Thames bends considerably to the west, and apwealth of its abbey; but, as early as the reign of Ed-proaches to the foot of the chalk range. In consequence ward I., it was famous for its cloth-manufacture: this was destroyed in the Civil Wars; but Reading still remains a great mart for corn and agricultural produce. The extension of the Thames navigation to Oxford has likewise contributed to its prosperity; as did, also, the conversion of the Kennet into a navigable canal as high as Newbury in 1716; although, in the short-sighted spirit of the times, that "innovation" was loudly protested against. The Kailway has, unquestionably, proved a great benefit to the town; and the public spirit of its inhabitants partakes largely of the characteristic intelligence of the age. Of the ancient glory of the abbey, but a few walls, or a ragged, broken skeleton, remain; though, in recent excavations, the plan of the building has been traced; and, says the Railway History, there have been brought to the surface, from the neighbourhood of the high altar, the relics of kings, and warriors, and holy men, the fathers and founders of a church, which they probably trusted would have confined their bones till domesday." in the last remains of a Franciscan monastery, in the town, is preserved a very fine decorated window. There are, also, several ancient parish churches; and the love of ancient art at Reading is shown in the new buildings-for example, in the large gaol, in the old English style, which nearly faces the Railway station, and in a restored chapel adjoining, Near Reading resides Miss Mitford, who has drawn a

View of the Thames." Basildon church has

a beautiful chancel, and is a valuable example of the Early Decorated style. During the railway construction, there were found in a field two skeletons, and the foundation of a Roman villa, with a tesselated pavement; the latter has been carefully preserved.

of this, the Railway crosses the river into Oxfordshire, at Basildon, and recrosses it about two miles further on, at Moulsford, by means of two nearly similar bridges of red-brick, with Bath stone finishings, and each composed of four elliptical arches, of sixty-two feet span. The Thames valley only presents the character of a ravine between Pangbourne and Streatley, which lies upon the Berkshire bank of the river, upon a sort of shelf or platform between it and the steep escarpment of the chalk. The village lies on the Roman road, called Ickleton-street, which, here descending the hill, crosses the Thames by a ford; hence, the name compounded of "street," or way, and the "ey," or island, still seen in the middle of the river The Railway labourers have met with several indications of Roman occupation in this locality; a vase of coarse pottery, found at Basildon, is entitled to special mention. The church is in the Transition style, from Norman towards Early English.

Opposite Streatley lies Goring Station, forty-four and a half miles from London; it has a church, mostly Norman; and from thence the line passes in cutting to Moulsford. We may here quote a specimen of the admirable geological description of the History:-"The valley now opens rapidly; the high ground on the left passes off westward, to form the Isley Downs, and that on the right recedes almost at a right angle, under the name of the Chilterns. The space between them is the

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