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Fortnight's Ramble to the
Lakes
Review of New Publications
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264. A Fortnight's Ramble to the Lakes in
Westmoreland, Lancashire, and Cumberland. By a
Rambler. 8vo.
WE were agreeably struck, at the opening of this book, to
find it the production of a lively correspondant, who, in
our present volume, has favoured us with pleasing specimens
of his descriptive powers both in verse and prose (see
pp.882, 941); and to whom, in our vol.LVIII. p.1107, we were
indebted for an exquisite poetical simile.
It wall naturally occur to all who may peruse this Ramble,
that it is the unlaboured effusion of a young, a generous,
and a cultivated mind; and if we hint a regret that the
pruning knife has not been extended to a very small part of
the first chapter, and a few lines of the twelfth, it will
not be constructed into a derogation of that unqualified
praise we heartily think the work deserves.
After the description we have already given (p.882) of Helm
Crag, it may be superfluous to add, that the future
Traveller to the Lakes will find this "Rambler" a very
valuable companion.
In Levens park our Tourist observed "a tree whose trunk is
cut off a foot from the earth, and whose branches were
engrafted into another tree. It was in full foliage, and
seemed alive to the bottom of the trunk. Although it may
once have been a complete tree, its neighbour becomes the
parent, and the sap of it in Winter must go into the root."
We cannot resist this opportunity of introducing to the
notice of our readers the Lake, the Village, and the Beauty
of Buttermere.
"The road we took was very uneven and boggy, with a number
of beau traps, As we ascended we gained a full view of both
Buttermere and Crummock lakes, separated by
good land and a deep river. There are two small islands upon
the latter; and at the bottom the country looks fertile. It
is about two miles to the Waterfall, and we found it an
uncomfortable task. But mountain-troubles vanish the instant
you behold the object of a walk. My ears first caught the
mellow sound, and, after clambering over a rough wall, we
came suddenly upon the cause of it. I was lost in admiration
in one of those vacant delights in which the mind
thinks of nothing but what is before it, and makes you feel
yourself more than a man. I required a tap on the shoulder
to return to mortality; I receieved it, and I thus feebly
described the cause of it.
"Scale-Force Waterfall is two hundred feet perpendicular,
except where it flushes over a small jut. The steep on both
sides is covered with variety of moss, fern, ash, and oak,
all fed by the constant spray; and flourish in indescribable
verdure. The delicacy of the effect is heightened by being
in a narrow chasm, a hundred yards in the rock, before it
rushes into the lower fall, at the point of which you have
the grand view. Clamber up the left side, and look into the
first basin; and, although you may be wet with the spray,
you cannot help feeling the solemnity of the deep, this
musical abyss, enchanting as verdure and melody can make it:
and although there has been no rain for nine days, it far
exceeds any thing of the kind I ever saw, and the boasted
one at Coo* in Germany sinks below comparison. I
suppose we saw it in the best state it could be received in.
Had it been after rain, it might have filled us with
astonishment; but what would have becomre of the verdure of
the sides? The foam would have nearly covered them. As we
saw it, every part was in unison with the musick it created;
the mind comprehended it, and carried away one of the most
inimitable scenes that ever enriched the fancy of man, or
graced the pencil of a Moore.
"We met a rosy boy, with a satchel on his back; he was going
to one of the householders for a stated time. The poor live
amongst the farmers in proportion as they are assessed, and
they are always treated like one of the family. The only
pauper at
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