ed by its surrounding memorials of "Here lies."--Across the
heath, encircled with fences of uncouth stones, stands a stern record
of feudal yore; at the next turn peeps the rectory, encircled with old
firs, trained fruit trees, and affectionate ivy; beneath yon darkened
thickets rolls the lazy Ure, expanding into laky broadness; and, beyond
yon western woods, which embower the peaceful hamlet, are seen the
"everlasting hills," across which the enterprising Romans constructed
their road. I next passed the boundaries of Newby Park, the property of
Lord Grantham. Here beneath enormous beeches were clustering the timid
deer, "in sunshine remote;" and the matin songs of birds were sounding
from the countless clumps which skirt this retreat. Within that solitude
had I enjoyed the society of a brother, alas, now no more! and yet the
landscape wore the same sunny smile as when I carved his name on the
towering obelisk before him. I felt that sorrow so exquisitely described
by _Burns_:

"How can ye bloom so fresh and fair;
How can ye chant, ye little birds,
And I so weary, fu' o' care."

Leaving Rainton, a sudden rise brings you to the _Roman Military Road_,
leading from Aldborough,[3] the Isurium of the Romans, to Inverness, in
Scotland. This road was repaired by the Empress Heleanae, and hence the
corruption, from her name, of Learning Lane, its present designation.
It was laid by the Romans, with stones of immense size, which have
frequently been dug up. The _Via Appia_, at _Rome_, which has lasted
1,800 years, resembles it in construction. Raised considerably above the
level of the country which it crosses, it is an object of wonder and
interest even to the illiterate, on account of the continuous perspective
it presents; there being no _bend_ in it for several miles. Traversing
this noble monument of art, how are we led to think on the "strange
mutations" which have overthrown kings and kingdoms in the period of its
duration, whilst the road remains "like an eternity:"

ON CROSSING THE ROMAN MILITARY ROAD, LEADING FROM ISURIUM TO THE NORTH.

O'er classic ground my humble feet did plod,
My bosom beating with the glow of song;
And high-born fancy walk'd with me along,
Treading the earth Imperial Caesar trod.

A thousand rural objects on the way
Had been my theme-but far-off years arose,
When ancient Britain bow'd beneath her foes,
Adding resplendence to great Caesar's day:

Whe