know of the mournful legend which belongs to this place, and which Wordsworth has preserved. In the olden time, a knight who loved a lady, and courted her in her father's tower here, at Greystoke, went forth to win glory. He won great glory; and at first his lady rejoiced fully in it: but he was so long in returning, and she heard so much of his deeds in behalf of distressed ladies, that doubts at length stole upon her heart as to whether he still loved her. These doubts disturbed her mind in sleep; and she began to walk in her dreams, directing her steps towards the waterfall where she and her lover used to meet. Under a holly tree beside the fall they had plighted their vows; and this was the limit of her dreaming walks. The knight at length returned to claim her. Arriving in the night, he went to the ravine, to rest under the holly until the morning should permit him to knock at the gate of the tower but he saw a gliding white figure among the trees; and this figure reached the holly before him, and plucked twigs from the tree, and threw them into the stream. Was it the ghost of his lady love? or was it herself? She stood in a dangerous place: he put out his hand to uphold her: the touch awakened her. In her terror and confusion she fell from his grasp into the torrent, and was carried down the ravine. He followed and rescued her; but she died upon the bank -not, however, without having fully understood that her lover was true, and had come to claim her. The knight devoted the rest of his days to mourn her: he built himself a cell upon the spot, and became a hermit for her sake.

Place Fell is a fine mountain, coming out boldly into the lake on the opposite side: and Stybarrow Crag shoots up high overhead, as one follows the windings of the shore. (Cut, p. 102.) One should not pass the next opening without going up to see the little hamlet which the children of the place have named 'Seldom Seen.' This is Glencoin-the Corner Glen, which is one of the sweetest nooks in the district.

The next stream which crosses the road is from Glenridding. Thick and dirty as its waters look, they come down from Kepple Cove Tarn and Red Tarn, high up on Helvellyn. It is from the lead-works that they take their defilement, in passing through Greenside. If the traveller had come over Helvellyn from Wythburn, or through Grisedale from Grasmere, he would have descended by the banks of this stream.

The inn at Patterdale-a luxurious family hotel-is four miles from Lyulph's Tower; and if the traveller has wisely walked from the entrance of Gowbarrow Park, he must still be fresh enough to ascend the glorious pass behind, to obtain a view of Brothers' Water, Hays Water, and Windermere from the top of the Kirkstone pass.

If he likes, he can do the greater part of it on horseback or in a car. After three or four miles of winding road, among the rich levels of Patterdale, which is guarded by mountains jutting forwards, like promontories, he begins to ascend, passing Hartsop, and the pretty still sheet called Brothers' Water. Up and up he goes, between the sweep of Coldfell on his

left, and the Scandale Screes on the right, no longer wondering at the tales current of the snowdrifts and murderous frosts which here attack the wayfarer in the winter season. Here there is no shelter or escape from the cutting wind, or the snows which cannot accumulate on the steep slopes, and must therefore drive in heaps into the pass. We have known enough of the biting of a north wind in April in this pass to feel that it must be a calm day indeed which would induce us to traverse it in winter. When the traveller has reached the toll-house, which is declared by an inscription of the Ordnance Surveyors to be the highest inhabited house in England, he obtains a noble view over Ambleside and its valleys at the Head of Windermere, the Coniston Mountains, and the whole of the district which lies between him and the sea; the sea itself being seen glittering, with perhaps a steamer upon it, in a clear and favourable light.

Returning down the pass, he first observes the fallen rock, ridged like a roof, whose form (that of a small church) has given the name to the pass: and next, is struck with the first sight of Brothers' Water from above: and all the way as he descends to it, the openings on the Scandale side, the left, charm his eye,—with their fissures, precipices, green slopes or levels, and knolls in the midst, crowned with firs. He will not now pass Hartsop, as before, but turn up the road to the right, among the farms, and reach and follow the Beck to its source at Hays Water. It is a lively stream to follow up; and, at a distance of a mile and a half from the main road, lies Hays Water, the large Tarn which is the delight of the angler, because the trout have abundantly delighted in it before him. It is overhung by High Street, so that perhaps the Roman eagles, as well as the native birds of the rocks, have cast their shadows upon its surface. Not far off lies Angle Tarn, on the southern end of Place Fell. Both these tarns send their brooks down, to swell the stream from Brothers' Water, which is itself supplied from the busy, noisy beck which descends the Kirkstone Pass. The whole forms a clear brown stream, winding through Patterdale, and quietly emptying itself into Ullswater, among the green meadows about its head. (Cut, p. 97.)

It now remains to see the Ullswater mountains from the lake; and for this purpose the traveller must take a boat from Patterdale to Pooley Bridge. The lake, somewhat shorter than Windermere, has three reaches,― its form being that of the letter Z; and the diversity of view thus afforded is very striking. (See Plate.) Place Fell, with its noble steeps, is the principal object at the upper part of the lake; and next, Helvellyn, which seems to rise in proportion as the distance is increased. The shores subside towards the foot of the lake, and a new country is entered on landing. Penrith, six miles distant from Pooley Bridge, is a neat little town, busy, from being the great thoroughfare of the district, but not particularly interesting, except from some Druidical remains in its neighbourhood, and its vicinity to Brougham Castle. To the stranger, just arriving in the district, there is indeed the interest of seeing for the first

This unhealthiness is no less a shame than a curse: for the fault is in man, not in Nature. Nature has fully done her part in providing rock for foundations, the purest air, and amplest supplies of running water: yet the people of the towns live-as we are apt to pity the poor of the metropolis for living-in stench, huddled together in cabins, and almost without water. The wilfulness of this makes the fact almost incredible; but the fact is so. There are several causes for this; all of which are remediable. The great landed proprietors are, in too many cases, utterly careless about the ways of living of their humble neighbours; and those humble neighbours need enlightenment about sanitary matters. There are even instances known of landed proprietors, urging some feudal claim and authority, who absolutely forbid the erection of any new dwellings except on the site of former ones: and this in neighbourhoods where the population is rapidly increasing. There are some who interest themselves about the building of handsome houses for opulent persons, while they never raise a cottage, or leave the builders time or opportunity to erect cottages, or will dispose of their land for sites. It will be seen at a glance what a despotic and increasing power is thus held by these proprietors :-how absolutely dependant the labouring classes must be on the pleasure of their landlords, when any displeasing act, any unwelcome independence in religion, or politics, or pursuits, or habits, may subject them to warning to leave their cottages, while no others are to be had. The labouring class, therefore, though exempt from poverty, generally speaking, indeed more prosperous as to gain than perhaps any other of their class in the kingdom, are too often at the mercy of their rich neighbours, and suffer in health and morals as much as the poor of great towns. They are crowded together in dens and cabins, so that decency cannot be observed. They become profligate accordingly, to such a degree as is shocking and incredible to strangers who come hither with an expectation of finding "rural innocence" befitting the scene. Where the home is disgusting, men go to the public-house; and the staggering drunkards that one meets in the meadows, and the brawls that one overhears in the by-streets, and the domestic troubles which arise from licentiousness among people who are so crowded together that they cannot avoid each other, are a flagrant curse in this paradise of nature. In these little towns, where the fresh

and the purest streams are for ever heard gushing down from the heights, and the whole area is made up of slopes and natural channels, there are fever-nests, as in the dampest levels of low lying cities. The churchyards are so overcrowded in some places, that delicate persons cannot attend service without being ill; and some neighbouring houses are scarcely habitable. At Ambleside, where the small churchyard is inclosed by three roads, the sexton invariably faints when he opens a new grave. When there was a stir, a few years

since, about a new church at Ambleside, the curate declared that the movement was made in order to obtain more room for the dead, rather than the living. As yet, nothing has been done. Fever, consumption, and scrofula, abound. And why is it so? Because few know of this state of things; and those who should care most about it care least; a large proportion of them, we fear, being too well satisfied with their possession of power to wish for any change. Nobody stirs ;-neither land-owners, nor clergy, nor gentry, nor master-builders. Handsome houses rise in all directions, in the most beautiful valleys: new residents arrive, causing an increase in the number of the labouring class: and it is rare to see a new cottage in any corner, while one may observe three cottages thrown into one, to make a good house for one gentleman, whose occupancy throws three families out of health and hope. As to what can be done, it is pretty clear. There is no occasion to wait for the enlightenment and regeneration of those who have shown how little they understand the duties of proprietorship. Let their eyes be opened, and their hearts be appealed to, by all means; for their own sakes as well as that of the oppressed: but there is no need to wait till they are wise. The general absence of poverty makes the way to amendment open and clear. The people are able and eager to pay good rents for decent and wholesome dwellings; and their probity about money matters is remarkable and unquestionable. There is, therefore, every inducement to capitalists at hand, and from a distance, to build in these neighbourhoods. There can hardly be a safer or more profitable investment than cottage-building here; and it is inconceivable that, if this were sufficiently known, the thing would not presently be done. But it is not known. The aggrieved class have no means of proclaiming their grievances; and they do not attempt it. They sicken and pine at home; they witness the corruption of some of their children, or, with a less sad heart, follow their coffins to the churchyard, while they hear that rich men round them are buying hundreds of acres, year by year, and leaving their vast estates to the management of stewards, who consider only their employer's taste, or his purse, giving perhaps some of the contents of that purse in a corrupting bounty, while perpetuating a cruel oppression. If a single capitalist would begin the good work on one spot, with a clear purpose and the needful care, there is no saying what blessings might not spring from the act. It would be a very

One side is richly wooded; the other nearly bare; and two bold promontories threaten to cut it in two, in one part, where the passage is only two or three hundred yards wide. Round the head of the lake cluster the great mountains of Harter Fell, High Street, Kidsey Pike, and others, leaving space among their skirts for the exquisite little valley of Mardale. Those who are able to obtain one of Lord Lonsdale's boats for the traverse of the lake may think themselves fortunate; for this is, of course, the most perfect way of seeing the surroundings of so small a sheet of water: and all other persons are deprived of the means of doing so. There are some good houses on the shores, and at the further end; but the occupants who live on the very brink are not allowed to keep any sort of boat. His lordship's boats are to be had for the asking, it is declared: but there is doubt, of course, about people being on the spot when the boat is wanted: and it must be bespoken at Askham and all this is something different from the ordinary facility of obtaining a boat at once, wherever there are inhabitants. The walk, how ever, is easy and agreeable enough,-by a good road which runs along the western bank

The crags which are heaped or sprinkled about the head of the lake are extremely fine. They jut out from the mountain side, or stand alone on the green slopes, or collect into miniature mountain clusters, which shelter tiny dells, whence the sheep send forth their bleat. There is a white house conspicuous at the head of the lake, which must not, under penalty of disappointment, be mistaken by the tired traveller for the Mardale Inn. The inn at Mardale Green is a full mile from the water; and sweet is the passage to it, if the walker be not too weary. The path winds through the levels, round the bases of the knolls, past the ruins of the old church, and among snug little farms, while, at one extremity of the dale is the lake, and the other is closed in by the pass to Kentmere and Sleddale, and the great Pikes tower on either hand. The stream which gushes here and pauses there, as it passes among rough stones or through a green meadow, comes down from Small Water, reinforced by a brook from Blea Water on High Street, which joins the other a little above Mardale.

The hostess at Mardale Green Inn will make her guests comfortable with homely food and a clean bed: and the host will, if necessary, act as guide up the

passes.

The traveller may make his choice of three ways out by the Pass of Nanbield. He may take a turn to the left before reaching Small Water, and go down into Long Sleddale,—to which we know of no sufficient inducement, unless it be that the way is practicable for a horse, which the others are not: or he may ascend, by the pretty Blea Tarn, the slope of High Street on the right, see where the Roman road ran along its ridge, and descend into Troutbeck: or he may go forward past Small Water, leaving High Street unvisited on the right, and drop into Kentmere, study its character as he proceeds down its length, and then strike over the Fells to the right into Troutbeck. His choice will be

much determined by weather, of course: and we wish him something more of a choice than was permitted to us lately by a wind which laid us flat on the summit of the pass, and made all thought of High Street quite out of the question.

There is no difficulty in the ascent from Mardale Green; but the traveller indulges in frequent rests, for the sake of looking back upon the singularly-secluded valley, with its winding stream, its faintly-marked track, and its little inn, recognised to the last by the sycamores and poplars which overshadow its roof and rustle before the door. Then he comes to the hollow where lies the Tarn,-Small Water. Here he will rest again, sitting among scattered or shelving rocks, and drinking from this pure mountain basin. Arrived at the top, he loses sight of Mardale and greets Kentmere almost at the same moment. The dale behind is wild as any recess in the district: while before him lies a valley whose grandeur is all at the upper end; and which spreads out and becomes shallower with every mile of its recession from the mountain cluster which he is now about to leave.

When he has gone down a mile, he finds that he is travelling on one side of the Tongue of Kentmere,the projection which, in this and some other valleys, splits the head of the dale into a fork. When he arrives at the chapel, he finds that there is a carriage-road which would lead him forth to Staveley and Kendal. But he is going over into Troutbeck: so he turns up to the right, and pursues the broad zigzag track which leads over the Fell, till Troutbeck opens beneath him on the other side. ever, he will note Kentmere Hall,-the birthplace of Bernard Gilpin, in 1517. If familiar with the old descriptions of the district, he will look for Kentmere Tarn, and wonder to see no trace of it. It is drained away; and fertile fields now occupy the place of the swamp, reeds, and shallow waters, which he might have seen but a few years ago. While this tarn existed, the mills at Kendal were very irregularly supplied with water. Now, when the streams are collected in a reservoir which the traveller sees in coming down from the Pass of Nanbield, and the intercepting tarn is done away with, the flow of water no longer fails.

Before beginning the ascent, how

He descends into Troutbeck by the road over Applethwaite Common, which brings him down upon the chapel and the bridge, in the very depth of the deep valley of Troutbeck. Or, if he likes to drop down at once, so as to alight in the dale at the extremity of Troutbeck Tongue, he will enjoy the walk along the whole length of this charming valley,-among its oldfashioned farmsteads, and primitive aspects of every kind. He must be careful to cross the beck, and proceed on the western side of the valley, if, as we must suppose, his object is to reach Lowwood Inn or Ambleside. If he means to make Bowness his resting-place, he may keep on the eastern side of the stream, and follow the road.

From the western road, there are exquisite views,— now of Troutbeck Tongue; next, of the deep levels

The traveller may now retrace his steps to Ambleside, or he may take the Kendal road and put himself again on the line of railway to resume his journey northward. After leaving Kendal, Penrith is the only place of importance on the line of the Preston and Carlisle railway. The ruins of the castle, supposed to have been erected by Neville, Earl of Westmoreland, overlook the town from the west. It is built of the red stone of the district, and has suffered much from the action of the weather. The court is now used as a farm-yard. The parish church, dedicated to St. Andrew, is a plain structure of red stone. There are several ancient monuments within the church; and in the south windows are portraits of Richard Duke of York, and Cicely Neville his wife, the parents of Edward IV. and Richard III. In the churchyard is a monument called the "Giant's Grave," said to be the burial-place of Owen Cæsarius, who was "sole king of rocky Cumberland" in the time of Ida. Not far distant is another memorial, called the "Giant's Thumb." Sir Walter Scott, on all occasions when he visited Penrith, repaired to the churchyard to view these remains. The new church, recently built at the foot of the Beacon Hill, is in the Gothic perpendicular style of architecture. "The Beacon," a square stone building, is erected on the heights to the north of the town. "The hill upon which the beacon-tower stands," we are informed by Mr. Phillips, "is one of those whereon fires were lighted in former times, when animosities ran high between the English and the Scotch, to give warning of the approach of an enemy." A fiery chain of communication extended from the border, northwards as far as Edinburgh, and southwards into Lancashire.

The antiquities in the neighbourhood are numerous and interesting; and the prospects from the heights are extensive and picturesque. Ulleswater, Helvellyn, Skiddaw, Saddleback, some of the Yorkshire hills, and Carlisle Cathedral can be distinctly seen on a clear day. Brougham Castle is situated one mile and threequarters from Penrith. It was one of the strongholds of the great Barons of the Borders in the feudal times.

the bleak and barren hills between Penrith and Carlisle, seemed a very unpromising undertaking; not so, however, to the engineering eye. A railway over this wild region was projected early in the railway era, and was fortunately carried through before the shareholders began to calculate the cost for themselves; and now the traveller traverses the heights of Shap Fell in perfect ease and comfort, by means of the Lancaster and Carlisle railway.

It

Carlisle, a large city in Cumberland, and the capital of the surrounding district, is pleasantly situated at the confluence of the rivers Eden and Calder, the former of which falls into the Solway Firth about five miles below the city. The name is derived from the Saxon words Car lyell, that is, the city near the wall, from its contiguity to the great Roman wall, which was formerly perceptible within a quarter of a mile of it, and is still visible in some places in the neighbourhood. was formerly a military post of considerable strength, having its castle and citadel, the former, commanding the passage of the river Eden, being placed on a slight eminence, at the north-west extremity of the town. Although no longer useful as a defence for the river,— which is now passed by a noble bridge of four arches, and nearly a quarter of a mile in length, built in 1817 by Mr. Smith,-the castle is maintained in perfect repair, and contains a gunpowder magazine and armoury, where 10,000 stand of arms are usually kept. The population of the district in 1841 was 30,262, and according to the census of 1851, 40,907. A number of new buildings rising in all directions, and the presence of several important manufactories, testify to the increasing wealth and importance of the city, which returns two members to the imperial parliament.

Besides the Lancaster and Carlisle railway, this city has communication with the north by means of the Caledonian railway, through Lockerby and Moffat, both to Edinburgh and Glasgow, and the extreme north. It has a ship-canal to Bowness, on the Solway Firth, by means of which vessels of eighty to one hundred tons can now reach the city, having, besides, steam communication with Liverpool. It has also a railway to Newcastle, which has opened up a very important trade with Ireland and the west coast. This railway, on which we must now pursue our journey, carries us through a highly interesting district, whether taken for its picturesque beauties or for its mineral wealth. In the district through which we pass are found the richest of the Cumberland lead mines, and the road skirts for some distance the famous river Tyne, which at Newcastle spreads before us in a noble river, floating whole navies on its broad bosom.