528 LETTERS FROM ENGLAND. 



freshness and verdure (the owner assured me that the roses bloomed 

 all winter long), cheating the inhabitants into the belief that winter 

 is an allegory, or if not, has only a substantial existence in Iceland 

 or Spitzbergen. 



Then the hotels here especially in Shanklin are absolutely ro 

 mantic in their rural beauty. Designed like the prettiest cottages, 

 or rather in a quaint and rambling style, half cottage -and half villa, 

 the roof covered with thatch, and the walls with ivy, jessamines, 

 and perpetual roses, and set down in the midst of a charming lawn, 

 and surrounded by shrubbery, you feel the same reluctance to take 

 the room which the chambermaid with the freshest of roses in her 

 cheeks, and the cleanest of caps upon her head shows you, as you 

 would in hiring the apartments of some tasteful friend in reduced 

 circumstances. When you rise from your dinner (admirably served), 

 always in a private parlor, the casement windows open upon a vel- 

 vety lawn, bright with masses of scarlet geraniums, verbenas, and tea 

 roses set in the turf, and you give yourself up to the profound con- 

 viction that for snugness, and cosiness, and perfection at a rural inn, 

 the world can contain nothing better than may be found in the Isle 

 of Wight. 



Bonchurch disputes the palm with Shanklin, for picturesque and 



sylvan beauty. We made a visit here to Capt. S of the Royal 



Navy, whose beautiful villa in the Elizabethan style, gave me an 

 opportunity for indulging my architectural and antiquarian taste to 

 the utmost. Imagine an entrance through a rocky dell, the steep 

 sides of which are clothed with the richest climbing plants, between 

 which your carriage winds for some distance, passing under a light 

 airy bridge, with festoons of ivy and clusters of blooming creepers 

 waving over your head . You soon emerge upon the prettiest of 

 little lawns, studded with fine oaks, and running down to the very 

 shore of the sea. On the left are shrubberies, pleasure-grounds, 

 kitchen and flower gardens, all in their place, and though you think 

 the place one of sixty or eighty acres, there are not above twenty. 



The house itself is one of the most picturesque and agreeable 

 residences of moderate size that I have ever seen. Its interior, 

 especially, unites architectural beauty, antique character, and modern 

 comfort, to a surprising degree. Every room seemed to have been 



