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Page 60:-
appears, from historical testimony, that these fences
existed before the fertile valleys were portioned out among
many holders. Higher and higher ran these stone inclosures,-
threading the woods, and joining on upon the rocks. Now, the
woods are for the most part gone; and the walls offend and
perplex the stranger's eye and mind by their unsightliness
and apparent uselessness; but it is a question whether,
their origin once known, they would be willingly parted
with,- reminding us as they do of the times when the tenants
of the abbots or military nobles formed a link between the
new race of inhabitants and the Saxon remnant of the old.
One of these walls it is which runs along the ridge and
bounds Rydal Park. There may be a gate in it; or one which
enables the stranger to get round it. If not, he must get
over it; and, if he does so, high enough up, it may save him
another climb. The nearer the ridge, the fewer the remaining
walls between him and liberty. Once in the forest,
Christopher North's advice comes into his mind,- unspoiled
by the fear, only too reasonable in the lower part of the
park,- of being turned out of the paradise, very summarily.
"The sylvan, or rather, the forest scenery of Rydal Park,"
says Professor Wilson, "was, in the memory of living man,
magnificent; and it still contains a treasure of old trees.
By all means wander away into these old woods, and lose
yourself for an hour or two among the cooing of cushats and
the shrill shriek of startled blackbirds, and the rustle of
the harmless glow-worm among the last year's beech leaves.
No very great harm should you even fall asleep under the
shadow of
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