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sometimes, for many miles a house is not to be seen. towns and villages are comparatively small, poor, and mean in their appearance.

Soon after leaving Ripon, we came upon the banks of the Ure, the meanders of which, with its bridge, supported on seventeen arches, and the town with its Minster all glittering in a bright morning sun, presented a pretty landscape. The road pursues the vale watered by this river to its very source, a distance of forty or fifty miles.

On the left bank stands Bolton Castle, celebrated for having been for a long time the residence of Mary Queen of Scots, during her imprisonment. It is now in a dilapidated condition, and appropriated to some agricultural purposes, as a barn or out-house. Its situation is commanding, but retired and lonely, looking into the deep vale of the Ure, far beneath. To the north stretches a dark and barren moor, on which not a house, nor a trace of cultivation is to be seen, to break the monotony of its purple surface. The mind of the spectator naturally reverts to the period, when the eye of a voluptuous and ill-fated princess, accustomed to the splendid luxuries of life, was doomed by a reverse of fortune, to gaze day after day, for a wearisome round of years, upon the cheerless scenery visible from the windows of her prison, and presenting a striking image of her own desolation.

Just at evening, deserting the head-waters of the Ure, we entered Garsdale, one of those deep, quiet, and romantic vales, so frequent in the north of England. A few scattered cottages, of the same complexion as the ground out of which they sprung, with the smoke curling above the thatched roof, occupy the bottom of the glen, and give shelter to a race of shepherds, whose flocks whiten the green and steep sides of the mountains. A turbulent stream rushes down the ravine, and is several times crossed on rude bridges, in harmony with the aspect of the country.

Night overtook us at Sedbergh, a little village on the borders of Westmoreland, and compelled us to take lodgings, instead of reaching Kendal, as was intended. Fortunately the inn furnished excellent accommodations, which were the more welcome from being the less expected. During the evening, a serenade of some half a dozen boys, paraded near the hotel, and singing for their own amusement, saluted our ears. Their voices were musical, and so far attuned to

Several of their

harmony, as to form an agreeable concert. local ballads were chanted in wild, sweet, and plaintive tones. The next morning we resumed our journey to Kendal. As the road is hilly, and presents many views of mountain scenery, we deserted the vehicle and walked the greater part of the way. The highest of the fells is between two and three thousand feet, commanding an extensive prospect into the Garsdale on one side, and the vale of the Kennet in which Kendal is situated, on the other. Great numbers of sheep, of a peculiar kind, were seen feeding upon the moor, which is irreclaimable and fit only for wild pasture land. Not a tree of any kind, nor even a bush is visible for miles. The hills, or fells, as they are here called, are uniformly covered with brown heath, which has a purple blossom, and gives a peculiar complexion to the scenery.

In descending from the height of land towards Kendal, we made a diversion from the road, for the purpose of visiting the ruins of the castle, perched upon the brow of the hill which overlooks the town. This was once a fortress of great strength, surrounded by a moat, and entered on a draw bridge. It had four towers, fragments of which are yet standing, as is also the greater part of the wall. The castle is girt with a belt of woods, growing upon the ancient moat, and giving to the grey battlements peeping through the foliage, a picturesque effect. From the parapet, a charming view was obtained of Kendal stretched at our feet, of the river Kent or Kennet, and the Canal by its side, of the beautiful vale above and below the town, and of the high hills by which it is on all sides encompassed.

Clambering through a breach in the wall, and descending from the lofty eminence, we crossed the canal and river on handsome bridges, passed the new gas-works which are of lime-stone, as is indeed the whole town, and visited St. Mary's Church. This is an antique, oddly shaped, but venerable structure, the chief interest of which is derived from having been once visited and minutely described by the poet Gray. He however descended much more into detail, than would be either instructive or amusing to my readers, who care little about heraldry and the genealogies of noblemen, whether burried here or elsewhere. The Sexton conducted us to a tomb in one corner of the church, constructed of plain lime-stone slabs, with an oaken canopy above it, in which he said the remains of Catherine Parr, one of the wives

of Henry VIII. were deposited. There is an illegible inscription on one end of the sarcophagus.

On our way to the hotel, we perambulated most of the town. The uniform complexion of its buildings gives it a remarkably neat appearance. It is a place of considerable trade and importance, being the capital of the barony of Kendal, one of the great divisions of Westmoreland. Its population, amounting to six or eight thousand, is chiefly employed in manufactures of different kinds.

While we were at dinner, repeated rounds of applause were heard from the town-house, nearly opposite the hotel; and on inquiring into the cause, the waiter informed us, that Mr. Canning was dining with the Corporation, augmented by the "nobility and gentry," in the vicinity, who were holding their annual meeting, as the custom is, to consult on affairs relating to the district. The next morning it was ascertained, that the Secretary had not been in town, but was expected. He arrived yesterday, stopping to change horses at the King's Arms, and affording us an opportunity to look at him and his son. They were on their return from the Lakes. Half of the inhabitants in town collected round the carriage, to take a peep at a man, who is the most prominent in the government, and who has raised himself by his own efforts to an enviable distinction.

LETTER XVIII.

LAKES OF CUMBERLAND-WINDERMERE-CONISTON-RYDAL WATER-VISIT TO THE COTTAGE OF A DISTINGUISHED POET -EXCURSION TO LANGDALE-GRASMERE.

September, 1825.-On the 10th we left Kendal for Bowness, on Lake Windermere, distant nine miles. A constant succession of hills, over which the road leads, compelled us to walk most of the way. But fatigue was alleviated and rewarded by the richness of the mountain scenery, which opened upon us at every step. On the left, towards the south-east was obtained a distant view of the great bay of Morcamb, setting up from the Irish sea, and forming one of the boundaries of the lake country.

From a lofty eminence, seven or eight miles from Kendal, we caught the first glimpse of Windermere, or Winander

mere, as it is generally written, stretching far beneath us, and embosomed in a deep vale, surrounded on all sides by ranges of mountains rising peak above peak. It was a glorious view, affording a presage of the grandeur and beauty of that region of which this was the entrance. Each of us stood motionless and silent for some minutes, while contemplating the features of a scene, about which so much has been said, and of which our expectations were raised to so high a pitch. Extravagant as are the pictures which a luxuriant fancy has drawn of these hills, woods, and waters, seldom has indiscriminate praise been lavished with so little disappointment to the visitant.

The road which winds down a steep declivity towards Bowness, discloses at every turn a new combination of objects in the landscape; and after all the fatigue which was subsequently endured in climbing eminences, to find the most eligible positions for observation, our earliest views, obtained without effort, were among the finest. Some allowance should, however, be made for the novelty of first impressions, which are generally the most vivid and interesting.

A loitering walk of a mile brought us to the White Lion Hotel, situate in the midst of a neat little village, which rises beautifully from the eastern shore of the lake, about midway between its northern and southern extremities. The grounds about the house are tastefully laid out, and the green court-yard in front, looking directly upon the water, is richly ornamented with shrubbery. The windows of our sittingroom, round which the last roses of summer were still clustering, opened upon a wide and diversified prospect, which would sometimes steal in and interrupt the more sensual enjoyments of the table.

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Immediately after our arrival, we procured a guide, and followed his footsteps to the summit of a hill called Biscot How, half a mile from the hotel, taking care to ascend behind the peak of the eminence, so that the amphitheatre of mountains, with the lake washing their bases, might burst suddenly upon us, and add to the beauty of the prospect. Seating himself in the midst of our little circle, reclining upon the cliffs, in the lee of a ridge of rocks which sheltered us from the inclemency of a high and bleak wind, the guide proceeded to designate the prominent objects embraced within our horizon. The recapitulation of a long catalogue of names, some of which are sufficiently barbarous, as Hard

knot and Wrynose for instance, could afford no amusement to my readers. Suffice it to say, that about the northern extremity or head of the Lake, there is a cluster of mountains, rising to the height of about three thousand feet, and lifting their naked summits above smooth and green declivities, which slope in graceful curves to the edge of the water. The loftiest and by far the grandest of these are two castellated rocks, called Langdale Pikes, towering above the rest in gloomy majesty, and hiding their storm-beaten heads in the clouds. This is almost the only point about Windermere, which possesses the character of sublimity; but there are a thousand views which are eminently soft and beautiful. The western shore is bounded by a high and uniforın hill, called Furness Fell, which is clothed to the top with an artificial forest, chiefly of Scotch fir, and adds nothing to the interest of the scenery. Towards the south, the mountains sink into hills of moderate height, and become tame.

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The Lake itself is ten or twelve miles in length, and about one mile in breadth, giving it the appearance of a river as wide as the Hudson. Nearly its whole extent was visible from this point of observation, It occupies the bed of a long and deep valley denominated Langdale, opening from the centre of the mountainous region to the bay of Morcamb. Its shores are indented by bold promontories, which sometimes push themselves far towards the middle. studded with numerous islands, the principal group of which, opposite Bowness, is so thickly sown, as nearly to intersect the lake into two equal portions, when viewed from its level. On the first day of our visit, the aspect of the water was dark and wild, catching the complexion of the skies, enveloped in flying clouds, which alternately thickening and breaking, changed in rapid succession the scenes of the magnificent theatre around us. The waves were crested with foam, seeming the whiter by a contrast with the gloomy surges upon which it broke, and with the deep verdure of the shores. Our guide stated, that he had seen the lake lashed into a perfect fury by the storms, which pour over the mountains and sweep along the vale in tornadoes. In one instance, within his recollection, an immense water-spout rose from the surface, and dashed against the hills, descending in torrents. In another, a boat was capsized, and a wedding party consisting of forty-seven persons, including the bride and bridegroom, all went to the bottom.

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