60 By Stream and Sea. 



If ecclesiastically minded, there are the cathedral on Cottage 

 Green, incomparable St. Mary Redcliffe, quantities of old 

 notable churches, and the exquisite little chapel of St. Mark, 

 where the Mayor of Bristol has a throne to himself, and the 

 aldermen separate stalls as if they were bishops, deans, and 

 canons, and where there are rare monuments and grand 

 specimens of wood-carving. The antiquarians miscellaneous 

 have a plethora of riches within their grasp. Here is a 

 bookseller's shop, where Cottle, brother of Byron's loosely 

 ridiculed " Amos," issued the earliest editions of the poems 

 of his friends, Coleridge and Southey, and where Wordsworth 

 and Coleridge actually wrote some of their "copy." There, 

 still standing, is the house where Southey was born. Pepys 

 came here, prying, as usual, into everything. Daniel De Foe 

 (though we have the story only at second hand) here used, 

 when in hiding from his London creditors, to emerge in 

 glorious array from cover on Sundays, when, according to 

 the beneficent laws in that case made and provided, no man 

 dared collar him for being in debt. There is also the 

 church in which young Chatterton pretended he had dis- 

 covered the ancient MSS. Richard Savage, the now 

 almost forgotten poet, died in the Bristol Newgate, and is 

 buried in one of the churchyards of the city. 



But, however old a city may be, the country around is 

 older ; the maker of the one was himself fashioned by the 

 Maker of the other. Let us do the town, and the bits of 

 history associated with it, full justice en passant, but forget 

 them when we have left them behind for the open country. 



A drive of some eight-and-twenty miles over the finest 

 Somersetshire country, behind a team of four lively horses, 

 with agreeable fellow-travellers in company, and a bonne- 

 bouche in the shape of the Cheddar Pass at the end of the 

 journey, is the very thing, you may take it, to clear out the 



