WRINGTON.

BY ARCHDEACON WRANGHAM.

WRINGTON! i'th' olden time illustrious thou,
For that in thy green fields with cherish'd look
England's young LOCKE his thoughtful rambles
took,

Ere he to Oxford pledged his solemn vow.

Her pride! her shame!—It has been thine to know
Since then a softer habitant, who struck

The chords of moral truth, and soaring woke
With sacred melodies the world below.

Nor light her toils, nor her achievements vain :
When with loud voice the eloquent missioner
Denounced the witching influence of the great
And warn'd the noblest of the land to train

Their rising hopes in piety and prayer—

For such thy labours, MORE, be aye thy memory

sweet!

WRINGTON AND WRINGTONIANS.

THE great western road from Bristol presents, for the first eight miles, few prospects of interest; the dim outline of the Monmouthshire and Welsh mountains, and an occasional retrospect of the great city, and her beautiful and majestic daughter, Clifton, ("matre filia pulcrior,") being all that occurs to relieve the monotony of successive fields and downs. But, just beyond the eighth mile-stone, the whole aspect of the country changes; the bold sweep of the Mendips, with many a more distant variety of peak, knoll, and cliff, bounds the horizon, while at the spectator's feet spreads a valley of exceeding richness and beauty, inferior, perhaps, in neither respect, to any in the county of Somerset ; superior, in the writer's opinion, to the renowned "vale of Taunton."

Just on the slope of the hill, a kind of lane road branches off to the right, by the side of which stands a guide-post, the inscription whereon may be interesting (as it would certainly be perplexing) to the antiquary. For his benefit, it shall be supplied from the stores of recollection :-" To Wrington." Following the direction of this venerable guide, the traveller winds along a sort of terrace declivity, bounded by hills to the right, while on his left stretches out the broad and beautiful valley before mentioned, profusely rich in all the tints of nature and cultivation, verdure and foliage; while the hills and coombs* which adorn the opposite side, present every shifting variety of light and shadow on every hue of rock, *Coomb is a term given in the west of England to a kind of narrow dell or ravine, which abounds in that part of the kingdom. N 2

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gorse, and heather. With one only omission, the conception of the poet is realised.

"Straight the eye hath caught new pleasures,

While the landscape round it measures:

Russet lawns, and fallows gray,

Where the nibbling flocks do stray;
Mountains, on whose barren breast,
The labouring clouds do often rest;
Meadows trim, with daisies pied,
Shallow brooks, and rivers wide,
Towers and battlements it sees,

Bosom'd high in tufted trees."

But although "rivers wide" cannot be claimed for the Vale of Wrington, yet this defect is fully compensated by the Severn sea, with its vessels, in the distance, the promontory of Brean down, the picturesque island rocks called the Holms, the mountain barrier of Wales, and the shadowy Quantocks:

"While many a cottage, on to Wrington's smoke,
(Wrington, the birth-place of immortal Locke,)
Checkers the village crofts and lowly glens,

With porch of flowers, and bird-cage at the door."*

The village of Wrington, imbedded in luxuriant foliage, and conspicuous by its graceful church tower, at length discovers itself to the advancing spectator; while he is tempted to rest for a while by the associations of a beautiful estate to his right, Barley Wood -late the residence of HANNAH MORE. It was here

that she spent the greatest part of her valuable life, and composed some of her most popular works. It was here that she assembled around her the piety, talent, and literature of her age; this place she adorned with every artificial and associate charm—the walk, the wood, the alcove: here, Locke, and Porteus, and Montagu had spots consecrated to their memory, and memorials raised to their worth and as

Bowles' "Banwell Hill."