It was towards the latter part of the summer of 182-, that I had occasion to traverse through the county of Somerset, upon a tour, partly of pleasure, and partly for scientific purposes. While sojourning for a few days in the vicinity of Bristol, I resolved to visit some of its most picturesque scenery; and, accordingly, I pursued my track along the western side of the river Avon, determined to trace once more the scenes of my youth, especially the extensive domains of the ancient manor hard by (denominated "the manor of Abbot's Leigh"), which, independent of the recollections imprinted on my mind, as being the chief theatre of my youthful "enactions" I well knew contained many rich objects of antiquarian research, well worthy the notice of the pedestrian who is attached to the memory and usages of the "olden time." To roe, I need scarcely add, the recollections the well-known scenery inspired, were fraught with the intensest interest.

I had spent the greater part of a fine summer's day in ram-bling through the rich foliaged woods that skirt the river which flows through this ancient and wealthy city, admiring, with all that rapture which a lover of nature's magnificence invariably possesses, the multiplicity of natural curiosities that every where surrounded me: such as the terrific, jutting, and craggy "Rocks of St. Vincent," whose frowning precipices reared opposite to me their gigantic heads aloft in silent grandeur. The deep glens, almost impervious to the noon-day sun, rendered more solitary still by the hoarse dashings and murmurings of the stream, which, far beneath me, rushed rapidly up the river as the tide approached - no unapt emblem, as I mentally observed, of the noisy and boisterous train of parasites attendant upon mortals, when, perchance, the tide of fortune flows on briskly to the "flood" of wealth and honours. Moralizing thus, and tired of even the " goodly scenery" which surrounded me (so fickle, alas! are our transitory enjoyments), I had mechanically seated myself in a solitary spot, through which my path lay, and which, I may venture to affirm, was as secluded from the busy haunts of man, and from the turmoil of all those popular objects inseparable from cities, as if I had been actually traversing a lonely desert in foreign parts, when I was forewarned by the unusual stillness of the atmosphere, and certain appearances in the clouds overhead, that a storm was approaching.

I am one of those "weather - wise" pedestrians who pique myself upon a knowledge of the element wherein we breathe, and which is the great alembic of those changes so frequently happening, but of which so few have forewarning. Having, year after year, pursued what I may be bold to term a rationally philosophical system of elementary philosophy, known but to few, and to those only who have the essence of patience in their researches, I have ever found this part of my worldly wisdom peculiarly useful; and so it proved to be in this instance, for it was not long ere I heard the low muttering of the distant thunder, the sure precursor of the elementary strife so usual at this period of the year. Gathering up therefore, my store of pedestrian "needfuls," I began to quicken my pace, being but poorly provided for the chance of a two-miles' walk through the pelting rain, such being the distance of the village of Leigh, the nearest possible resort for shelter or refreshment., I had an additional allurement, however, to prefer this village beyond other places, even had they been more adjacent, as I knew I should spend an evening of (to me) more than usual interest, at the solitary inn of the "George," where I expected to bear various legends of" times long gone by" from "mine host" (a right merry and sociable epitome of ancient customs), and the villagers, which would, as I deemed, amply repay me for any little privations of comfort I might endure in the adventure. Nor were my expectations doomed to be disappointed, as the sequel will prove.

Behold me then, courteous reader, after having first satisfied the cravings of hunger, from the copious stores of "mine heat's" well-stocked larder, which, on this occasion (perhaps owing to the increased keenness of my appetite, after a fast of several hours in duration) seemed to me to have been prepared with no slight knowledge of "gastronomic skill," seated in the old-fashioned, and in truth somewhat sombre, apartment of the "George," which, however, was the best the only inn in the village could furnish, before a cheerful fire of blazing legs, enjoyw ing the gratefulness of warmth and rest after fatigue; far the evening, although it was summer,, was more than usually humid, damp, and chilly. There I sat, listening to the rude pattering of the rain against the casements, the sighing and whistling of the wind amongst the creaking old elm-trees that surrounded the house, and other effects of the tempestuous elements, for my prognostications of a storm, which, as before hinted, are seldom fallacious, had, in this instance, been the forerunners of a perfect hurricane, accompanied by torrents instead of summer showers, so that I felt more than usually gratified at my having obtained such a convenient shelter. Behold me then, gentle reader,"in thy mind's eye," chatting cheerfully over a bottle of real"venerable old Port," with "mine host" and sundry fre, quenters of his chary old mansion, in the following manner.

- "And so, maybe, axing your honour's pardon," ejaculated an zonest rustic, in the west-country dialect, "your honour may a time back, when you was in our part of the country, have seen the ould court-house, which stood down the lane yonder; and, if so, your honour will, I reckon on't, be mightily vexed to hear tell how our new lord of the 'state has had it pulled down to the ground, all but a few of the ould walls, a few harvests ago. - I have heard 'em say how that many wonderful and strange sights were once seen about the place, after dark; and I have myself hearde them tell a power of wild tales about it, frightful enow, but I 'spose the like of your honour does not put faythe in ghosts?" -