Early in the morning. I was prepared to for my start. Leaving my family here I took the coach which plies between this place and the nearest railway station which is at Barnstaple, twelve miles, I was inside with three other persons two women and an elderly gentleman, all strangers. The country through which we went was very pretty, and the town of Branston with the presence of an old-fashioned Stage coach seemed to bring back the days of 1820 or earlier. At Barnstaple I took the train to Exeter. Though slow and not very good to time, I do not know nay railway which runs through so pretty a country.180 a portion of it is the Valley of the Tour from which many very pretty seats of gentlemen are made visible. Devonshire sustains the expectations that have been raised by the account of it. I reached Exeter in season to give me an hour of interval which I hoped to pass in seeing the two and possibly the Cathedral. But the delays interposed by an omnibus driver effectually poured my leisure down to ten minutes. So I went to the Station of the South Western Railway, and started at half past three for London. The country through Honiton and Axminster seemed exceedingly pretty. At Salisbury it had become dark, and the rest of the way not to be seen. I will remark however that this train was exact to time, so that I arrived at half past nine in London and was at my house at ten. Here I found Mr Moran waiting for me and received from him all the news since my departure.