many inquiries about persons and institutions in our country, and seemed to be particularly anxious on the subject of poor-laws, remarking that the system adopted in England, has been a curse to the nation, and expressing a hope that the United States would never fall into the same error. He appeared to consider any established system for the maintenance of the poor an evil, having a direct tendency to increase pauperism. Among other questions, he asked whether aristocracy was making any head-way in our country, and what was the prospect, as to the permanency of the union. A great variety of topics were started, on all which he talked like a man of sense, which is not always the case in the conversations of a poet.

The table was spread, and a pressing invitation given to eat and drink. On taking leave, he proposed a walk to a cascade not far from his house; but when we arrived at the cottage gate, it was found that there was other business to be first attended to. The ponies impatient of delay, and feeling more inclination for an eleven o'clock than ourselves, had in our absence carried away a section of an old fence to which they were hitched, and were deliberately cropping the green grass by the side of the road. One of the bridles was broken to pieces in the fray, and we all set to work to mend it. The poet manifested not less invention, ingenuity, and adroitness in repairing the harness, than in the composition of an ode or an elegy. He returned to the cottage, and drawing a rusty nail from the wall, converted it into a substitute for the tongue of a buckle, driving it home with the first stone which met his eye.

This slight misfortune, while it called forth a great deal of kindness and condolence, did not deprive us of the pleasure of a walk to the cascade, which is one of the most picturesque and beautiful we have found about the lakes. The quantity of water is small; but its purity, its foam, its echo, the conformation of rocks, the little rustic bridge above, and the deep shade of the woods, are all admirable. I could not but think that some of the most polished, delicate, and pathetic tales in our language, breathing the soul of poetry mingled with a refined simplicity and purity of feeling, had been inspired by the sweet seclusion of this scene.

Having a second time taken leave of the cottage and its distinguished proprietor, who was so kind as to make in my friend's pocket book a particular memorandum of the route to be pursued in our ride, and of the objects most worthy of attention, we set out for the head of Langdale, after a much longer and a much more agreeable delay than was anticipated. To avoid treading back our steps to Ambleside, we took a cross-road, leading through a series of cultivated fields, with

the river Rothay on one side and the hills on the other, the charms of which, heightened by a noon-day sun, more than compensated us for the trouble of opening at least a score of gates, in the distance of a mile and a half.

After reaching the main road and passing the village of Clappersgate, the river Brathay was pursued nearly to its source. It is about the size of the Croton. The wild romantic beauty of its banks, the constant music of its waters, its numerous rustic bridges, and a succession of cascades rendered us insensible to the toil of climbing hills. Our appetites, however, were less proof against the calls of hunger; and a ride of several miles, after an abstinence of as many hours, began to awaken a regret, that the hospitality of the Cottage had been declined. There was no tavern in all this region; and the only alternative was starvation, or intrusion upon a private family. The latter was of course preferred; and observing an old lady with a little girl by her side feasting upon an apple-pie at the door of a thatch, we solicited the favour of participating in the repast. Our plea was not in vain. After many apologies, that the fare was too coarse to be offered to strangers, the good woman was persuaded to cut each of us a liberal piece, and add the luxury of a glass of small beer. So riding up to the cottage door, (for the interior was scarcely large enough to admit three additional inmates,) we received the bounty from her hands, without the trouble of dismounting from our ponies, giving her many thanks with a compensation proportionate to our feelings of gratitude for the favour. The adventurous Ledyard has very poetically as well as very gallantly said, that in all his wanderings, he ever found females hospitable and kind; and this is not the first instance within our experience, to illustrate his remark, although there has hitherto been little occasion to solicit the charity of strangers.

But to return from this episode :-at the distance of some eight or ten miles from Ambleside, we found ourselves by the margin of a little dark, solitary, and desolate sheet of water, called Blea Tarn, (the word tarn being a local term nearly synonymous with pond.) It is one of the wildest, most lonely, and dreary spots I have ever seen. A few reeds springing from its borders, and a small patch of stinted fir, creeping up the acclivity, which rises steeply to the northwest, are the only marks of vegetation in the vicinity. All else is an amphitheatre of crags, towering one above another to the height of nearly 3000 feet. Before us, the only pass through the barrier of mountains is but a few yards wide at the bottom, and partially discloses the congregation of horrors at the head of Langdale.

On arriving at the gap, the eye surveys a scene of indescribable

grandeur. No one, however stout may be his nerves, can look upon it without an emotion of terror, if it always be that gloomy abyss it was on the afternoon of our visit. With me, it produced a temporary alienation of mind, and a giddiness of the brain, as we descended slowly for some thousands of feet down a steep and rugged declivity into the depth of the vale. To form some idea of this gulf, let the reader imagine a rampart of mountains, of about the height of the Catskill, with dark and nearly perpendicular sides, extending three-fourths round a circle, and terminated at one end by the two Pikes, mentioned in another part of this letter. Let him imagine, that on the battlements of this eternal fortress, the clouds are constantly dashing, breaking, and rolling down the sides, sometimes entirely concealing, and at others disclosing masses of the rock. Let him add to this simple, but sublime combination of elements, here and there a torrent, in its descent becoming a belt of foam, and its source lost to the eye in the obscurity above. The foliage, grass and moss-grown thatches of the few huts which are scattered over the vale, imbibing the hue of the surrounding scenery, assume a yellowish, gloomy tinge, resembling that produced by an eclipse of the sun. Such were some of the most prominent features in this scenery, the character of which appeared to us entirely peculiar, and made too deep an impression on our minds, to be soon effaced, however impossible it may be to communicate it to others.

The wildness and loneliness of the dale as night approached induced us to hasten our retreat; but in this there was more difficulty than in entering, arduous as was the descent. In many places the path, or rather track, leading through the gates and enclosures of shepherds entirely disappears. Taking a wrong direction in one instance, we found ourselves after riding a mile in the midst of a morass, and came to a full stop at a small brook which runs through it. Decoyed by the pebbles at the bottom, which had been brought down from the mountain by a torrent, I dismounted and stepped upon the margin, to try if my pony could ford it, but sunk above my boot in the experiA kind old lady observing us in difficulty, came half a mile from her cottage to our relief, and sent us back to the right road.

ment.

In another instance a modest little boy rescued us from a similar error, and conducted us back to the path, which should have been pursued. A doubt of his correctness was removed by inquiry of his parents; and on receiving a sixpence for his services, he blushed like one of the wild flowers of his native vale.

To add to our troubles, it now commenced raining; and having yet twelve miles to ride over an intricate and unknown road, we began to

think it would be necessary to look out for a shelter for the night. But a happier issue awaited us. The rain soon ceased, and a pleasant evening followed. Passing Elter Water, a small lake with green, cultivated shores, about which there is nothing very remarkable, except a curious conical mount rising from its bosom, and composed of rock slightly veiled with verdure; as also Loughrigg Tarn, one of the largest and prettiest of its class, slumbering quietly among the hills, we arrived at Lake Grasmere, so much and so justly admired by the poet Gray, who visited it in the year 1769, and gave a description of it in a letter to a friend.

We saw it under very favourable circumstances, approaching from the west just before sunset, to the brow of the mountain called Lough

rigg, whence its beauties burst suddenly upon the eye. From a crag

forming the summit of the hill, to which we climbed, the whole of the lake and the secluded vale in which it is situated are distinctly seen at a glance. It is surrounded on all sides by lofty mountains and broken rocks, except an opening to the south-west through which the Rothay flows, and a narrow pass towards the north-east called Dunmail Raise. Its length is about three miles, and its breadth one. Near its western shore there is a small green island tufted with trees, and crowned with a cottage. From the eastern side, a low cultivated promontory, projects far into the lake, upon which stands a pretty village. The borders around the whole circumference consist of rich fields and woods, studded with seats, farm-houses, and cottages. Every object within the vale appears to be in exact proportion, and to harmonize perfectly with the picture. In symmetry, richness, and softness of landscape nothing about the lakes surpasses Grasmere.

LETTER XIX.

ENGLISH LAKES CONTINUED-THIRLMERE-VALE OF KESWICK-DER

WENT

WATER-BASSENTHWAITE-BORROWDALE-WAST

FURNESS ABBEY--ENNERDALE-LOWES

WATER

WATER-CRUMMOCK-BUT

TERMERE--EXCURSION TO THE TOP OF SKIDDAW--VISIT TO THE POET LAUREATE.

September, 1825.

On the 14th we left Ambleside for Keswick. The weather was fine, and the ride along the shores of Rydal Water and Grasmere was enchanting. Our exit from the vale, in which the latter lake is embosomed, was through the singular gap, denominated Dunmail Raise. By the side of the way, there is a heap of stones, in the form of a barrow, to perpetuate the memory of a battle fought in the 10th century between Edmund the First, and a King of Cumberland, in which the former was victorious, putting out the eyes of the two sons of the latter.

The vista of hills opening towards the north from this point is extremely fine. On the left, Eagle Crag rears its gray and rugged mass of rock, entirely destitute of every species of vegetation, and contrasting admirably with the cloud-capt Helvellyn, on the right, which is one of the loftiest mountains in all this region. The sides are clothed with verdure to its top, to which the mists perpetually hanging round its brow, impart a vivid complexion. Several torrents dash headlong down the deeply scarred declivities. In front, Skiddaw and Saddleback, hills of the first class, at the distance of eight or ten miles terminate the view. Thirlmere or Leathes' Water occupies the bottom of this defile, along the margin of which the road passes its whole length, being between two and three miles. It is a dark, stern, and wild lake, with bold shores, and possessing none of that softness of landscape, which characterizes Grasmere. Much the most picturesque view upon its borders is about half way between Ambleside and Keswick, near a little one-story church, seated at the foot of Helvellyn and looking to its very summit, over which the sun but just peeps at noon-day. Thirlmere is the highest of the lakes, its bed being 500 feet above the level of the sea. It would be an endless task to enumerate all the interesting objects crowded into this narrow defile.

After passing Green Crag, a high, broken rock which overhangs the glen in the most romantic manner imaginable, we reached an eminence called Castle-rigg, whence the vale of Keswick, in all its glory burst suddenly upon our view, illuminated by a bright noon-day sun.