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Thus far the comments of my ingenious Friend: Let me now add
some remarks of my own, and give an account of some things
which may have escaped him; either from an imperfect
knowledge of the country, or from his being engaged in other
pursuits. On the south side of this tremendous mountain,
above a place called High-Row, and in some other
places, trials have been made for minerals; but at what
time, and with what success, even tradition is silent. I
went into one of the levels, and found these works had been
carried on previous to the invention of gun-powder, as there
were marks of picks and wedges, and of no other tools. At
the forge below Field-Side there is a subterraneous
passage cut through the rock: here, as well as those I have
just mentioned, no other tools have been used, except picks
and wedges. Cambden, indeed, mentions, that copper mines
were wrought in his time in New-Lands: he wrote in
1587, only two hundred years ago, yet not a vestige of
tradition concerning any of these works can be traced. The
Earl of Derwentwater is said to have drained this country of
its inhabitants, many of whom perished, and the rest were
afraid to return: yet surely some tradition might be
expected; some old woman might tell her grand-children who
it was that cut these subterraneous caverns. Another thing I
must remark, the silent running of the springs down the
rocks on the back of the mountain. It may seem a little
paradoxical, that a stream of water should flow silently
down a precipice: the solution is easy; the rocks are
covered with a soft delicate moss, of various colours, red,
yellow, and green; the water flowing over this makes not the
least noise: in some places, however, where it has formed
for itself subterraneous channels, it makes a very singular
and audible sound. These springs are of a remarkably pure
and pleasant water, insomuch, that after a severe day's
exercise upon the mountains, I have thought it more
agreeable than any other liquor.
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We now arrived at the village of Threlkeld, a perpetual
curacy under Greystock, now worth about L.25 per annum, and
once in the possession of a clergyman, not inferior in point
of oddity to any of those I have before described. This
gentleman, by name Alexander Naughley, was a native of
Scotland, but of what part I cannot learn. The cure in his
time was very poor, only 8l. 16s.; but as he lived the life
of a Diogenes, it was enough. His dress was mean, and even
beggarly: he lived alone, without even a servant to do the
meanest drudgery for him; his victuals he cooked himself,
not very elegantly we may suppose; his bed was straw, with
only two blankets. But with all these outward marks of a
sloven, no man possessed a greater genius; his wit was
ready, his satire keen and undaunted, and his learning
extensive: add to this, that he was a facetious and
agreeable companion, and though generally fond of the
deepest retirement, would have unbended among company, and
become the chief promoter of mirth. He had an excellent
library, and at his death left behind him several
manuscripts on various subjects, and of very great merit.
These consisted of a treatise on algebra, conic sections,
spherical trigonometry, and other mathematical pieces; he
had written several poetical pieces, but most of these he
destroyed before his death. His other productions would have
shared the same fate, had they not been kept from him by a
person to whom he had entrusted them: the state they were
found in is scarcely less extraordinary; being wrote upon
about sixty loose sheets, tied together with a shoe-maker's
waxed thread.
Mr Naughley never was married; but having once some thoughts
of entering into that state, he was rejected by the fair one
to whom he paid his addresses. Enraged at this
disappointment, and to prevent the fair sex from having any
farther influence over him, he castrated himself!
giving for his reason, "if thy right eye offend thee,
&c." in consequence of this operation he grew
prodigiously fat, and his voice, (naturally good,) improved
much, and continued during his life. He died April 30th
1756, at the age of 76, having served this curacy
forty-seven years.
Some anecdotes of him are so extraordinary, that I cannot
forbear commiting them to the world. In one of his sermons,
speaking about the seeking of honour, he com-
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