posite side, through
the Forest of Oaks, from Eling to Dibden, and onwards over the meadows
to Hythe: there they may, in either, find ample food for reflection,
connected with the Curfew Bell.

Seated on a fragment of the towers of Netley Abbey, whose pinnacles were
so often hailed by seamen as well known landmarks, but whose Curfew has
for centuries been quiet, the spectator may see before him the crumbling
remains of a fort, erected hundreds of years ago. On the left is an
expanse of water as far as the eye can reach, and in his front the
celebrated New Forest,--

Majestic woods of ever vigorous green,
Stage above stage, high waving o'er the bills;
Or to the far horizon wide diffus'd,
A boundless deep immensity of shade--

the scene of William's tyranny and atrocity, the spot where his children
met their untimely end, and where may be seen the _tumuli_ erected over
the remains of the Britons who fell in defence of their country.

In the deep recesses of a wood in the south-east prospect, the eye may
faintly distinguish the mouldering remains of the Abbey of Beaulieu,
famed in days of yore for its Sanctuary, the name of which is now only
recorded in history. Even the site of the tower is unknown, whose Curfew
has long ceased to warn the seamen, or draw the deep curse from the
forester.

There they may

"On a plat of rising ground,
Hear the far off Curfew sound,
Over the wide watered shore,
Swinging slow with sullen roar."

The Curfew is rung at Southampton, Downton, Ringwood, and many other
towns in the west, every night at eight.

P.Q.

* * * * *

THE SELECTOR; AND LITERARY NOTICES OF _NEW WORKS_.

* * * * *

SPANISH SCENERY.

The following is from the delightful pencil of Washington Irving: it
will be seen to bear all the polish of his best style:--

"Many are apt to picture Spain to their imaginations as a soft southern
region, decked out with all the luxuriant charms of voluptuous Italy. On
the contrary, though there are exceptions in some of the maritime
provinces, yet, for the greater part, it is a stern, melancholy country,
with rugged mountains, and long sweeping plains, destitute of trees, and
indescribably silent and lonesome, partaking of the savage and solitary
character of Africa. What adds to this silence and loneliness, is the
absence of singing-birds, a natural consequence of the want of groves