but the best points must be scrambled after-and | at a picture—and indeed you are shown it somewhat are consequently seldom reached. It is unquestion- in the same way, You enter a dark summer-house, ably far inferior to many less celebrated waterfalls in and, on the opening of a shutter, the little fall is seen the district and no doubt owes much of its celebrity quaintly set in a deep oaken frame. (Cut, No. 4.) The to the easiness with which it is inspected. Few lake water dashes glittering and foaming down a cleft in tourists like much trouble, or wander far from the the black rock, and from every crevice in the craggy beaten track; and scarcely any fatigue themselves by sides start up slim trunks of ash and hazel, whose light any independent exertion. They follow, with the foliage serves to screen without concealing the sparkling most sheep-like docility, the steps of the guide, and stream; and just above the fall is an old grey bridge, stay to look where he bids them- and there only. half hidden among the leaves, over which ever and These are the fashionable tourists. But give us the anon passes slowly a village waggon or an old peasant. hardy manufacturer, with his Lancashire energy, to "This little theatrical scene," says Mason in a note to find out the wonders of the lake scenery. We have Gray's description of his Westmoreland tour, "might a strong belief that he would discover more fine things be painted as large as the original, on a canvas not for himself in a day than a legion of jaunty idlers in bigger than those which are usually dropped in the opera-house." Were Stansfield the painter we should rejoice to behold it, else we should grieve at the realization of the fancy. For a rich poetical picture of the fall, we refer the reader to the Evening Walk' of Wordsworth, who exclaims, after describing it with a zest that proves his admiration of it, a week. If the briefest excursion be made beyond the limits of the lake, it will of course be towards the classic grounds of Rydal. The pleasantest way thither is to saunter along the bank of the playful Rotha-on whose bridge the hastiest rambler will be tempted to hang awhile, observant of the trout darting swiftly across the cerule stream, or poised steadily against the current watching for some luckless insect or tiny fry. It is a curious circumstance that the char and trout, which abound in Windermere, when they annually quit the lake and ascend its head-streams at the spawning season, invariably separate at the confluence of the two rivers. The char all proceed up the Brathay, and the trout up the Rotha. The circumstance seems hardly credible, but all the fishermen here assert it to be a well ascertained fact, and its truth does not appear to be disputed. Rydal Lake is a gem. Small enough to lie in one of the bays of Windermere, it yet is a lake perfect in all its parts. It has even its little green islands-on one of which is a heronry-and around it is a belt of wood-clad hills and noble mountains. On the east is the little village, with its neat modern chapel built by Lady le Fleming. Passing up the lane by Glen Rothay, you soon arrive at Rydal Hall, the seat of the Le Flemings, and Wordsworth's cottage on Rydal Mount. The park of Rydal Hall is the finest in these parts. Large trees are rarely met with in this district; but those here would do honour to a southern domain, while the views you gain from among them are such as only Rydal can show. In the park are a couple of farfamed waterfalls. The largest tumbles into a deep glen, and though not wilder than suits the vicinity of a lordly residence, has a grand appearance. But it is the lesser or Lower fall that is the most famous. It is one of the very daintiest and most graceful little cascades that ever delighted the eye. Being in a pleasureground it appears in danger of being improved by the landscape gardener into trimness, but happily a wiser taste watches over it. It is left to the skilful management of Nature, who seems to have set her 'tricksiest spirit' to deck it, and care is taken by its human guardian to prevent profane hands from meddling with her devisings. It is a thing to look at as you would "Did Sabine grace adorn my living line, Blandusia's praise, wild stream, should yield to thine!" Every lover of poetry will turn with elevated feelings towards the abode of the great moral poet of our age. Wordsworth's house is just one of the ordinary humble-looking, larger cottages, common in these parts; but, in its unpretending substantial appearance, it far better accords with the surrounding scenery than many a more ambitious structure. Its situation is one of the most delightful that could be conceived of. The Bard of the mountains and the lakes could not have found a more fitting habitation, had the land been all before him where to choose. Snugly sheltered by the mountains, embowered among trees, and having in itself prospects of surpassing beauty, it also lies in the midst of the very noblest objects in the district, and in one of the happiest social positions. The grounds are delightful in every respect; but one view-that from the terrace of moss-like grass-is, to our thinking, the most exquisitely graceful in all this land of beauty. It embraces the whole valley of Windermere, with the hills on either side softened into perfect loveliness: "Soft as a cloud is yon blue ridge-the mere It will repay the longest pilgrimage to see the great poet among his own beloved mountains, where almost every object recalls some passage of his writings. And very pleasant is it to notice the marked esteem and reverence with which he is regarded by his neighbours of all ranks. With the peasantry he is a prime favourite. He has done them honour, and they feel it. They of course admire him most for his moral excellences, but they hardly less admire him for his social qualities and mountaineer habits. While they are happy in knowing that he does not disdain their cottages, they like to speak of him as within these few years the best skater in all the parishes around; and are proud that he takes such "grand walks" | From the gentle scenery about the Lake, you pass graamong their fells. May he long live to enjoy all the felicities of his charming retreat, and the admiration and reverence of his countrymen ! The prominence behind Wordsworth's house, Nab's Scar, is the best point from which to ascend Fairfield, the mightiest in bulk, and the loftiest of the Windermere mountains. It rises to an elevation of above 2,900 feet, and from various parts of its long ridge the grandest prospects are obtained. From two or three different points, eight, or even ten lakes and tarns are at once visible. The mountain combinations are on the most magnificent scale. Far away they rise range beyond range a multitude of rocky peaks, and swelling summits surging over each other like the waves of a stormy ocean! Tourists are often told, and readily believe, that if one lofty mountain is climbed it is sufficient; that, as the phrase goes, "when they have seen one they have seen all." A marvellous delusion! Why every mountain view is utterly unlike all others. This Fairfield, for example, that not one in a thousand of Windermere tourists ascends, has a character of its own as marked as has Helvellyn. Climb it, by all means, and see for yourself; and not only climb it, but, if you have time, traverse its whole ridge. It will abundantly recompence the toil. From Fairfield you may descend upon Grasmere-the 'Vale of Beauty,' as it has been called. Gray was especially delighted with it. He visited Grasmere nearly eighty years ago, when "not a single red tile, nor flaring gentleman's house or garden walls, broke in upon the repose of this little unsuspected Paradise; but all was "peace, rusticity, and happy poverty, in its neatest, most becoming attire." Now it wears a somewhat different appearance, but it yet retains enough of its primitive loveliness to delight every one who gazes upon it. If there be another day, something should be seen of the interior of the lake district. The difference between the outer parts and the interior is very remarkable. It seems as though the central mountain peaks had been pushed up through the surrounding rim of country, and that the former had been torn and riven in the process; while the latter had only been heaved into irregular undulations. The circumstance has been pointed out and explained by Professor Sedgwick, in his "Letters on the Geology of the Lake District." He says: "On the outskirts, the mountains have a dull outline, and a continual tendency to a tabular form; but those in the interior have a much more varied figure, and sometimes present outlines which are peaked, jagged, or serrated. This difference arises partly from the nature of the component rocks, and partly from their position; for the more central mountains are chiefly made up of slaty beds, with different degrees of induration, which are highly inclined and sometimes nearly vertical; while the outer hills are, with limited exceptions, made up of beds which are slightly inclined and sometimes nearly horizontal." For a survey of this wilder tract, a journey to Langdale is the best possible when at Windermere. dually into a country of the sternest and most desolate solitude-the more interesting as the theatre of the more impressive parts of Wordsworth's 'Excursion.' We have not now space to conduct the reader thither, and can merely point out the route. On the way Loughrigg Tarn may be visited, a most graceful scene, which, according to Wordsworth, "resembles, though much smaller in compass, the Lake Nemi, or Speculum Dianæ, as it is often called, not only in its clear waters and circular form, and the beauty immediately surrounding it, but also as being overlooked by the eminence of Langdale Pikes, as Lake Nemi is by that of Monte Calvo." On the east side of Loughrigg Fall is Fox How, the seat of the late Dr. Arnold, a place that every one, who has read the life of that noble-minded man, will regard with interest. Descending by High Close the long narrow valley is to be pursued to the foot of the Pikes, where Dungeon Ghyll Force must not be overlooked, and the Pikes should be ascended. The vale should be followed to Stake Pass, where the heights may be taken. In returning pass over the "savage region" on the right, to the " dreary plain, with a tumultous waste of huge hill tops," beneath which lies the "little lowly vale" that seems 66 as if shut out from all the world," with its "liquid pool that glitters in the sun, and one bare dwelling, one abode, no more "-that, namely, in which the 'Solitary' dwelt. A greater contrast than Blea Tarn is to that of Loughrigg can hardly be imagined. As he looks down upon this wild spot the spectator will be ready to exclaim with Wordsworth "Full many a spot Of hidden beauty have I chanced to espy From Blea Tarn the road will easily be found, round a rough fell or two, to the dale just above Elter Water, whence the way is plain enough by Brathay back again to Ambleside. If the tourist intends to spend two or three days at Windermere he will like to know where he had best take up his abode. Happily there is no lack of good inns, and the visitor may fare as sumptuously as his temper or his purse may incline him; but he may also live well, and yet at a moderate expense, The head quarters of the Windermere tourist are usually at Bowness, or Low Wood, or Ambleside. Bowness has several inns: the principal is that which Wilson mentions as the White Lion,' but called since the Queen Dowager stayed at it, the 'Royal Hotel.' It is famed for all kinds of good entertainment, and is most pleasantly placed. Bowness, however, is too far south for one who would chiefly visit the upper scenery of the lake. Low Wood Inn stands nearer the head of Windermere, and is a first-rate establishment-it is a good family hotel-but if the truth must be told, not just the place for an economical rambler. We have no doubt that Ambleside will, by nearly all visitants to Windermere, be found the most convenient centre. The 'Salutation' the pleasantest and quietest by the lake. Listen to is its chief hotel, and is, our friends assure us, thoroughly Christopher. "There is not a prettier place on all well managed. We put up with Donaldson. His inn Windermere than the Ferry House, or one better has no prospect, but it is quiet and moderate. Our adapted for a honey-moon. You can hand your bride host is an intelligent man, and knows the country well into a boat almost out of the parlour window, and be -is exceedingly civil-has a good boat at your service off among the islands in a moment, or into a nook or -a surefooted pony if you prefer riding to climb- bay where no prying eye, even through a telescope, ing-and, being a farmer and a substantial family man, can overlook your happiness; or you can secrete yourhe has always the newest of eggs, the freshest of butter, selves, like buck and doe, among the lady-fern on and the sweetest of honey, and he gets up breakfasts Furness Fells, where not a sunbeam can intrude on and dinners in unexceptionable style: his potted char your sacred privacy, and where you may melt down and preserved strawberries are always nicely prepared, hours to moments, in chaste connubial bliss, brightenand after a morning's scramble on the hills, serve ing futurity with plans of domestic enjoyment, like admirably to whet the appetite that has been blunted long lines of lustre streaming across the lake." by the cold beef or chicken that follow the eggs at we can induce some blue-eyed Ellen to say aye to breakfast. We have forgotten one inn-the 'Ferry our wooings, we will away to the Ferry-but in our House' opposite Bowness. We are told it is one of solitary condition, we are still for Donaldson. When 66 SHEFFIELD. IN the valuable history of "Hallamshire" by the Rev. Joseph Hunter, we find it recorded that under a survey of the town of Sheffield, made in 1615, there was a population of 2,207 persons. Of these onethird, or 725 persons, are not able to live without the charity of their neighbours: these are all begging poor." There were 260 householders; of whom 100 are "householders which relieve others; these, though the best sort, are but poor artificers." The other 160 householders " are not able to relieve others; these are such, though they beg not, as are not able to abide the storm of one fortnight's sickness, but would be thereby driven to beggary." The remaining 1,222 of the population of the town are "children and servants of the said householders; the greatest part of which are such as live on small wages, and are constrained to work sore to provide them necessaries." This is, indeed, a narrow foundation on which to build up, by the spread alone of manufacturing industry, a thriving community of 120,000 souls, such as now exists at Sheffield; with all the prodigious accumulation of capital, in the form of houses, factories, wheels, steamengines, materials for labour, and finished goods, which proclaim a commerce with all the world in the year 1847. At the beginning of the seventeenth century, when this census of Sheffield was taken, the town and district was in the transition state from feudal domination to commercial enterprise. The small manufacturers had their grinding wheels on the Sheaf and the Don, which flowed close by the walls of the castle of the Talbots. On the adjacent hill, was the Park and the Manor, or Lodge, of the same great Earls of Shrewsbury. They were the lords of the district. They erected wheels on their streams, which the cutlers rented of them; they regulated the labour and the capital engaged in manufactures by the power of their courtsleet. They appear, even in the rudest times, to have occasionally endeavoured to do some good to the poor community clustered under their walls they exacted moderate tolls; they gave alms, and built hospitals. Their tenants humbly watched their family fortunestheir births and their burials-their honours or their disgraces. But the greater number of their dependants had been for generations "begging poor," or "poor artificers," or "householders not able to abide the storm of one fortnight's sickness." From the time of Edward III., as we know from Chaucer, the "Sheffield whittle" found its way into the Southern and Eastern counties. But the makers of the whittle were necessarily kept poor by restraints and regulations within, and imperfect communication without. The furnaces and forges in which the mineral riches of Sheffield were rendered productive, were worked for the benefit of its great lords; and we may be sure that such proprietors neither understood their own interests nor the interests of those who laboured for them. All the valuable land around was engrossed by the parks and chases of the mighty hunters. No substantial burgher could live beneath the blighting shade of the dominant castle. The historian of Hallamshire shows us, from a Court Roll of the Manor in 1590, that "the fellowship and company of cutlers and makers of knives" regulated their trade "by the assent of the Right Honourable George Earl of Shrewsbury." One example will suffice to show how these lordly regulators interfered with the natural progress of the labour of artificers. For eight-and-twenty days after the eighth of August in each year, no master, servant, or apprentice, could perform any work appertaining to the science or mystery of cutlers; nor, in the same way, from Christmas to the twenty-third of January. At these seasons they were to apply themselves to other labours. This interruption of their mechanical skill was, perhaps, little regarded at a time when Sheffield had the most imperfect commercial intercourse with the rest of England. The knives of the town, such as old Fuller describes, "for the use of the common people," one of which he saw purchased for a penny, were sometimes carried to distant fairs through almost impassable ways. But anything like activity of commerce was the slow growth of a century and a half. In the earlier times of the Norman lords, when the strong hand of the tyrant and the outlaw were equally ready to seize upon the accumulations of industry, it is difficult to imagine how the persevering skill and rude science which produced the "Sheffield whittle" could have had a beginning, or made any progress towards creating the "poor artificers" of 1615. One of Sheffield's living poets thus apostrophises the "changed scenes" of his native place: Far other woes were yours in times of old, When Locksley o'er the hills of Hallam chased Her merchants meet, where hamlets shriek'd in flames. . The demolition The Sheaf-bridge, or more properly Shear-bridge, was formerly a structure of wood which led direct to the Castle. The only vestige of this stronghold of the lords of Sheffield is an old half-timbered house, described as "The hawle at the Poundes," which tradition says was the laundry of the Castle. of the Castle itself was in a great measure accomplished under an order of the Commons in 1648. Time and neglect did the rest, till not a stone was left to connect the locality with its historical associations. Here were the halls where the great John Talbot and his valiant son held high revelry before they fell together at the fatal battle of Chatillon. Mr. Hunter gives an interesting local tradition connected with this "brave Talbot, the terror of the French :"-" It is said that |