he shade of which Mr. Penn's
celebrated ancestor, William, signed his treaty with the Indians,
constituting him Lord Proprietary of what was afterward, and what will
ever be, Pennsylvania. The piece of wood is part of a large limb,
about five feet long. The tree was blown down in 1812, and the portion
in question was transmitted by Dr. Rush to Mr. Penn, who had it
varnished in its original state, and a brass plate affixed to it, with
an inscription.

The sun broke through the fog about twelve o'clock, and had as
cheering an effect on the landscape, as it almost invariably has on
the mind. In the afternoon, after a most delightful day spent with the
fair housekeeper, it became time to think of returning to London, and
as the distance would be much lessened by proceeding through Mr.
Penn's grounds, and going down to Salt-Hill instead of Slough, the
lady offered to accompany me to the extent of the shrubberies, and
point out the way. These enchanting shrubberies are adorned with busts
of the Roman and English poets, placed on antique terms, along the
well-kept, smooth gravel-walks, which wind about in many a serpentine
direction through the grounds. There are appropriate quotations from
the works of the different bards, placed on the front of each
terminus. The bust of Gray, is placed under an ancient wide-spreading
oak, with this inscription:

Where'er the oak's thick branches stretch
A broader, browner shade;
Where'er the rude moss-grown beech
O'er canopies the glade,
With me the muse shall sit and think,
At ease reclined in rustic state.

There is an elegant small building, inscribed "The Temple of Fancy,"
in which a bust of the immortal Shakspeare is the only ornament. It is
on a small knoll, commanding an extensive prospect through the trees,
which are opened like a fan. Windsor Castle terminates this lovely
view. Within the temple there is a long inscription from the Merry
Wives of Windsor, Act 5, sc. 5, beginning thus,

Search Windsor Castle, elves, within and out;
Strew good luck, ouphes, on every sacred room;
That it may stand till the perpetual doom,
In state as wholesome, as in state 'tis fit,
Worthy the owner, and the owner it.

The grounds, laid out with so much fine taste, terminate in a lovely
little dell, sheltered on every side. In the centre there is a circle
bordered with box, and growing within it, a collection of all the
known varieties of heath. Th