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[2]
The above description of this curious and pleasing ride is, as
far as it goes, just, but not characteristic. What most attracts
the notice of the traveller is not the objects of the surrounding
country (though they are fine) but the sands themselves. For when
he has got a few miles from the shore, the nature of the plain on
which he treads cannot but suggest a series of ideas of a more
sublime kind than those of rural elegance, and which will
therefore gain a superior attention. The plain is then seemingly
immense in extent, continued in a dead level, and uniform in
appearance. As he pursues his often trackless way, he will
recollect, that probably but a few hours before, the whole
expanse was covered with some fathoms of water, and that in a few
more it will as certainly be covered again. At the same time he
may also perceive, on his left hand, the retreated ocean ready to
obey the mysterious laws of its irresistable movement, without
any visible barrier to stay it a moment where it is. These last
considerations, though they may not be sufficient to alarm, must
yet be able to rouse the mind to a state of more than ordinary
attention; which, co-operating with the other singular ideas of
the prospect, must affect it in a very sublime and unusual
manner. This the bare appearance of the sands will do. But when
the traveller reaches the side of the Eau, these affections will
be greatly increased. He there drops down a gentle descent to the
edge of a broad and seemingly impassable river, where the only
remains he can perceive of the surrounding lands are the tops of
distant mountains, and where a solitary being on horseback (like
some ancient genius of the deep) is descried hovering on its
brink, or encountering its stream with gentle steps, in order to
conduct him through it. When fairly entered into the water, if a
stranger to this scene, and he does not feel himself touched with
some of the most pleasing emotions, I should consider him
destitute of common sensibility. For, in the midst of apparently
great danger, he will soon find that there is really none at all;
and the complacency which must naturally result from this
consideration, will be heightened to an unusual degree by
observing, during his passage, the anxious and faithful instinct
of his beast, and the friendly behaviour and aspect of his guide.
All the fervors of grateful thankfulness will then be raised, and
if, with the usual perquisite to his venerable conductor, he can
forget to convey his blessing, who would not conclude him to want
one essential requisite for properly enjoying the tour of the
lakes?
Having crossed the river, the stranger traveller, (whom we will
suppose at length freed from any petty anxiety) will now have
more inclination to survey the objects around him. The several
particulars peculiar to an arm of the sea (as fishermen, ships,
sea-fowl, shells, weeds, &c.) will attract his notice and
new-model his reflections. But if the sun shine forcibly, he will
perhaps be most entertained with observing the little gay isles
and promontories of land, that seem to hover in the air, or swim
on a luminous vapour, that rises from the sand, and fluctuates
beautifully on its surface.
In short, on a fine summer day, a ride across this aestuary (and
that of Leven mentioned little further on) to a speculative
stranger (or to any one who is habituated to consider the charms
of nature abstractedly) will afford a variety of most
entertaining ideas. Indeed, the objects here presented to the eye
are several of them so like in kind to what will frequently occur
in the tour of the lakes, some of them are so much more
magnificent from extent, and others so truly peculiar, that it
seems rather surprising that this journey should not often be
considered by travellers from the south, as one of the first
curiosities of the tour, in beauty as well as occurrence. And if
the reader of this note be of a philosophic turn, this question
may here offer itself to him, and to which it is apprehended he
may found a satisfactory answer on every evident principles, viz.
'Why a view so circumstanced as this, and, when taken from the
shore at full sea, so very like a lake of greater apparent extent
than any in the kingdom, should never be brought into comparison
with the lakes to be visited afterwards, and generally fail to
strike the mind with images of any peculiar beauty or grandeur?'
X.
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