we went, adding at every step a fresh story to our Castle in the Air,
anticipating happy mornings and joyous evenings at dear Hatherden;--in
love with the place and all about it, and quite convinced that the hill
was nothing, the distance nothing, and the walk by far the prettiest
in the neighbourhood.

Home we came, and there we found two letters: one from Mr. Camden, sent
per coach, to say that he found they must go abroad immediately, and
that they could not therefore think of coming into Berkshire for a year
or more; one from the lawyer, left in charge of Hatherden, to say, that
we could not have the place, as the Norrises were returning to their old
house forthwith. And my Castle is knocked down, blown up--which is the
right word for the demolishing such airy edifices? And Hatherden is as
far-off, and the hill as steep, and the common as dreary as ever.

We have already quoted the most striking of the poetical pieces, at page
283. Allan Cunningham has some spirited lines, My Native Vale; and the
Ettrick Shepherd, a touching Lay of the Martyrs. Archdeacon Wrangham,
one of the most elegant and classical scholars of the day, has
translated twenty-three beautiful verses on the Spider, from Pignotti,
besides a few other little garnishing pieces. The Brothers, a Sketch,
by the Hon. Mrs. Norton, is full of sweet simplicity; and some Stanzas,
which follow, by Mr. Crofton Croker, are gems of affection. Thoughts on
Flowers, by H.G. Bell, breathe the same sweet and touching spirit; and
the Banks of the Dove, written by M.T. Sadler, Esq. on leaving his
"native village in early youth," are not only interesting as gems of
talent which has since ripened into literary distinction in honourable
public service, but will delight every admirer of genuine feeling.

The Engravings are nearly all of first-rate excellence. The