GLIMPSES OF WESTEEN EUEOPE. 
115 
Hospital, lordly mansions and distant villages, on my way to the beautiful 
Isle of Wight, on whose account I came this route. Voyage of twenty-two 
miles ended before noon, and we land at West Cowes, leaving Eyde and the 
channel fleet, at Spithead, to the left. 
First of all, I must visit the Osborne estate of the Queen and pay my re¬ 
spects to Her Majesty. And as the weather is perfect and my mood a little 
dreamy, will start up the hill on foot. * Osborne is indeed a lovely 
spot. The estate embraces about 2,000 acres, enclosed with a paling of 
boards, upright and lapped, so as to shut out all hope of obtrusive peepings- 
in. Entrance substantial and tasteful. Palace, built of a handsome free-stone, 
in plain but elegant English style. Situated on an eminence, its two square 
towers are visible from a long distance ; furnishing, substantial, unostenta¬ 
tious; grounds, tastefully laid out, with beautiful gravel walks and carriage 
ways winding through velvet lawns and shady groves. The Queen being ab¬ 
sent in Scotland, loses the honor of a call from one of her warmest admirers. 
********* 
From Osborne, through fragrant groves to Whippingham Chapel, (Prince 
Albert’s favorite,) thence to Newport and Carrisbrook Castle, (famous for 
having been the place where Charles the First was imprisoned), and thence, 
by a most delightful route on the west side of the river, past Honey-Hill, 
Gurnard and other little villages, to Gurnard Bay, and so along the beach to 
the harbor of Cowes, arriving in time for the evening boat to Southampton. 
It would hardly be possible to crowd more quiet, sweet enjoyment of nature, 
art and rural life into one day. 
Agriculturally considered, the Isle of Wight presents but little that is 
, worthy of notice. The soil is variable—in some parts of the island a deep 
hard clay, in others a calcareous and flinty gravel. The crops are evidently 
not very large, though the cultivation is good. A number of tile factories 
supply good tile for thorough drainage. Of all public improvements, the 
roads appeared most remarkable. They are mostly narrow, but the smooth¬ 
est and handsomest I ever saw. Enclosed with beautiful green hedges all 
the way, substantially macadamized, with a surface as smooth as any sanded 
garden walk, and, furthermore, without any of those miserable ditches which 
make most roads in America so unpleasant and unsafe, they afforded constant 
pleasure, and made my afternoon pedestrianation of 14 miles seem but a 
single hour’s promenade in some delightful park. 
A pleasant passage across the channel—a thing never heard of before—to 
Havre, in whose active commercial streets I first touch the soil of the Conti¬ 
nent, and find my quick questions as promptly answered in a foreign tongue. 
Must rub up my French a little, or I shall be taken for an Englishman. 
Up the valley of the Seine by rail, through the garden-like fields and or¬ 
chards of old Normandy. Once an independent power, giving kings to Eng¬ 
land, and thus putting her stamp upon the composite race whence Ave Ameri¬ 
cans have sprung—founding Quebec, and planting her colonies not only on 
the St. Lawrence, but also in South America, and on many islands of the 
sea—famous in story wherever and so long as the history of the Romans and 
the Northmen, and the names of William the Conqueror, of Charlotte Corday 
and Joan of Arc are known—now a quiet, loyal portion of the French Em¬ 
pire. Rouen is announced. I stop for the night. A fine old city, pretty 
well shut in by distant hills; interesting for its old Gothic churches 
of nearly a thousand years, and for many historic events. 
And now for the Queen City of the world. A glorious Sunday morning. 
Shall attend divine service in the grand old Notre Dame. * * Beautiful 
fields, gardens and groves—more frequent and more elegant houses—princely 
mansions—a thousand church spires, aud the glitter of a vast and brilliant 
city—Paris! 
Out of the rain and fog, and smoke, and everlasting jam, in the narrow, 
crow'ded streets of overgrown, hard-working London, into the clear sunshine 
of Paris, with its broad avenues, beautiful gardens, charming fountains, deep 
shady woods, magnificent public works, monuments and statues, all made 
more brilliant and enchanting by the gay and happy mood of the pleasure¬ 
taking and pleasure-making population, Avhat a change ! I can hardly realize 
