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Some years before this, a sportsman perished in these mountains, in a manner still more tragical. A dog had been observed coming from time to time to the houses of the valley, and, after obtaining some food, returning to the mountains. He was at last followed, and the body of his mas'ter discovered. He had, it seems, dislocated his foot, and, unable to move, had died of hunger and pain, and his faithful dog had ever since watched by his remains.

Oct. 11.-To Keswick, or Derwentwater, 16 miles. The first view on the left, as you approach it from Windermere, is by far the most striking of any we have seen in the course of our excursion; quite a finished composition. High cliffs on either side of the lake, of nearly perpendicular rocks, broken and woody, and varied with bold projections and bays; the nearer shore covered with lofty groves of trees,-the farthest penetrating into a sanctuary of mountains, the wildest, the softest, the most aërial of any of those romantic hoods which shade the heads of all the English lakes. Towards the evening of a fine day, the oblique rays of the sun throw over this jumble of fanciful forms their misty veil of golden and purple vapours, in endless changes. There is just a sufficient extent of water to set off the mountains, and mountains enough to give dignity to the lake; nothing to

be wished otherwise than it is. On the right you have huge Skiddaw close at hand, and before you the lake of Bassenthwaite, at two or three miles distance, with a rich plain between.

Pursuing the narrow road (along the eastern margin of the lake,) at the foot of the high cliff, from which enormous blocks roll frequently over into the water, we advanced towards the magnificent termination just described; the softness of distance changing by degrees into asperity and ruggedness. On our way we saw the fall of Lowdore, in a woody recess; its bed, a steep ascent of stones of about 200 feet, was nearly dry, and the stones much too rounded and uniform for beauty. The cheeks of the rock on each side are finely broken, and well clothed with trees. It must be, when full, a very grand object. At the head of the lake we entered a pass, not unlike the Trosachs at Loch Katrine; it leads to the Vale of Borrowdale. About one mile from the entrance you come to a huge fragment of rock, called the Bowder-Stone, 62 feet long, 36 feet high, and about as much broad; this is nearly the dimensions of the celebrated base to the statue of the Czar Peter at St Petersburgh. The Bowder-Stone has probably rolled down from the neighbouring heights, and has stopped in a strange position, standing on an edge. The top is rendered accessible by means of a ladder, and

is covered with a considerable layer of mould, accumulated by the common slow process of successive generations of lichen and other plants. This circumstance shews the long standing of the stone in its present situation.* It contains about 80,000 cubic feet, weighing 6000 tons. I annex a little sketch of it.

* I have often observed, with surprise, the very little depth of vegetable mould in the American forests, unless where there has been an accidental accumulation. On a dead level, this humus scarcely ever exceeds six inches, and generally is only half that depth. Fallen trees lifting with their roots a portion of surface, afford frequent opportunities of observing the under soil, generally a gravelly clay, which, mixed with vegetable mould, by cultivation, forms a better soil than pure mould, as it retains moisture longer. But the thinness of the mould, after so many generations of forests have died and decayed on the spot, seems irreconcileable with any remote formation of the American continent.

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Leaving the carriage half way up the vale, we walked on to its extremity, where we saw the entrance of the only mine in Great Britain, and, they say here, in the world, of that substance (plumbagine,) with which pencils are made. I believe there is a mine of it worked in Provence ; yet the circumstance of its being known in France by the name of mine de plomb d'Angleterre, seems to indicate its exclusive origin. The workmen told us, that the proceeds of this mine amounted last year to L. 90,000,-a sum hardly credible. It is not worked continually, but at intervals only, and so as not to lower the price. They are looking for a new vein, the old one being, we understood, exhausted. The mountains here, which are of slate, form a ridge between Langdale and Borrowdale, whence the waters run every way; and, although not the highest in themselves, must be on the highest level of this alpine region. The farthest part of this vale is not equal in beauty to the nearest, and it is not worth while perhaps to penetrate further than the Bowder-Stone; yet the whole country is so beautiful, that no ride can be uninteresting. On our return we had a glorious sun-setting across the lake and its mountainous banks. All was richness and splendour of light above, and dark shades below. Skiddaw in front of us, a huge, insulated, round lump of earth, 3300 feet high,

so smooth and even, that it seems as if a coach and four might drive straight to the top and down again, on the other side, without track or guide; the uniform neatness of the surface appearing uninterrupted by either rocks or trees.*

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A few months after we saw Skiddaw, it was sold at auction to a company of agriculturists, who are going to plant its surface all over. A hundred years hence it may be improved by a pine forest, but, in the intermediate time, the nursery will spoil it.

We introduce here a fragment of a subsequent tour of the Author :

May 29, 1816.—We ascended Skiddaw, on horseback, to the very top, from the south-west side near Keswick. The thermometer 40° at the summit, and 66° at Keswick. The plantations of larches, made all over Skiddaw some years ago, have not been successful-all above a certain height above 1500 feet have died, not from cold, which is never intense here, but from want of heat sufficient for vegetation. Larches live and prosper in the Alps, near the region of perpetual snows, and I think as high as 8 or 10,000 feet. Our horses, which happened not to be accustomed to the exercise of mountain-climbing, laid down several times leg-tired, as the guide said, although not out of breath, nor hot. The view from the top is, of course, very great, less so, however, than from Benlomond. Our guide, 72 years old, did not seem legtired in the least. Skiddaw is schistus.

High wages here (3s. a-day), yet the poor-rates high above Keswick. Farming universally complained of as very unpro fitable, particularly of inferior lands lately brought into cultivation.

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