Mr. John Huggins, for Sir Robert Throckmorton, the grandfather of its present possessor, for the purpose of keeping up a piece of water in the Park: it spans a deep brook, forming a scene remarkable for its wild and romantic beauty, and, after winding its latent course along the bottom of a woody vale, meanders through the Park, and crosses the road from Olney to Northampton, at a place called Overs Brook. The willows near the bridge, whose pendant boughs, "bathed in the limpid stream," are cut down, but their site is still marked by rising shoots.

The bridge terminates a grove of trees, which fills the valley, bordering the north-eastern extremity of the Park; here is seen

"The ash far-stretching his umbrageous arm;

Of deeper green the elm; and deeper still,
Lord of the woods, the long-surviving oak."

Ascending from the Rustic Bridge, along the northern boundary of the Park, a path, under the canopy of spreading oaks and elms, leads to the Alcove. This walk is alluded to by Cowper in the beginning of the sixth book of the Task: it commanded a view of Emberton Church across the vale, and from hence he

heard "the music of the village bells;" but, from thẻ increased growth of the trees, that stand on the high walk in the Park, the prospect is now nearly excluded. The ascent is difficult, being thickly tufted by molehills, incrusted by verdant moss, and mingled with flowery thyme, the scattered sweets of which, regaling the scent, deceive the labor of the stumbling walk; for here the firmest footstep is continually eluded by the yielding earth. On the summit stands

THE ALCOVE.

This structure is a sexagon, of a light and graceful form, composed of wood: it was erected, about fifty years ago, by the same person who built the Rustic Bridge. This pleasant retreat has been deserted by the family, on account of a fatal accident which happened to the builder's son; who, being employed, about twenty years after its erection, in painting the roof, fell from it, and was killed on the spot. The painful reflections which occurred on every visit to the scene of this catastrophe, having induced the family so long to avoid it, it begins to assume evident symptoms of decay, which is much to be regretted, as it forms a noble

ornament to the Park, and affords a resting place both seasonable and convenient, in the face of a delightful and extensive prospect.

The view we have represented is in a direction south-east from the Alcove in the centre is seen the termination of the grove, commencing at the Rustic Bridge, and the brook just emerging from the shady vale: over the grove may be discerned the tops of firs and pines, which form the plantation between the Colonnade and Peasant's Nest; and rising from the foliage like a lofty obelisk, is Olney spire, beyond which are the hills in the vicinity of Clifton: the row of distant trees, on the eminence, is the high walk, from which is seen the Peasant's Nest.

The Alcove, being open in three divisions, presents as many distinct, though not equally extensive, prospects through the middle compartment, on the left, the park appears finely adorned with clumps of noble trees, and, among the various foliage, part of Weston House is visible: the Avenue presents itself directly in front: through the opening, on the right, is seen the western boundary of the Park, the walls of which are judiciously excluded by plantations.