Brathay valley, and the western hills, are exchanged for (to our mind) a still more complete and delightful picture. In four minutes' walk, that is, from the stone-seat in the field of the farm-house which commanded so varied a prospect, a new point of view is reached, where Nature presents none of the same scenes, but some of a quite different character out of another of her portfolios. For concentration of various scenery there is indeed no spot with which we are acquainted -no, not the Rhigi itself—to compare with these halfdozen elevated acres upon the top of Red Bank, in Westmorland. The vale of Grasmere immediately in front, as in the sketch, is beautiful indeed as seen from the carriage, but it is better to leave that for a quarter of an hour, and take on foot the little bridle-road to the right, and so, for a hundred yards along Loughrigg Terrace. What terrace in garden of Italian prince was ever seen to rival it? For home-charm there is certainly nothing, elsewhere, like that scene before you. The lake at your feet with its one green fir-crested island; the westward sweep of Silver How crowned with emerald green, - the diamond water trinkling out

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of it, and with the beautiful woodlands below: then the concourse of nameless mountains (whereof Serjeant Mann is the only reliable one) which keep guard over the sanctuary of Easedale: Easedale itself retiring coyly behind its border of wood, and protected where it meets the public eye by Butterlip How: Grasmere village, church, and churchyard associated with more than one hallowed memory: immediately behind these 'the Lion and the Lamb,' on Helm Crag,

32

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LOUGHRIGG TERRACE.

and still further back, Steel Fell, which forms one side of that inverted arch at the top of the climbing road yonder called Dunmail Raise, or locally, The Raise two hills peer over it, the black one on the left being Raven Crag on Thirlmere, and the other Calva, on part of far-away Skiddaw. On the opposite side of Steel Fell is Seat Sandal, a fine green hill and a good weather-guide, when you come to know him; between him and his brother Great Rigg (much covered with knobs) lies the pass to Ullswater, and much desolate scenery; Green Head Ghyll and Forest Side Fell complete the glorious circle, leaving only space between the latter and Loughrigg, on which we stand, to let the river and the road run by through the copse-wood to Rydal. Forty yards further along the terrace, and we reach a point from which Rydal is included in this Grasmere view; there it lies immediately beneath us, with its beautiful wooded islets, and grand old weather-worn Scar, and the broad green wood at its far-end, out of which peers Ivy Cottage and the little church tower. From hence, as you may perceive, there is a good riding-road upon this side the mere, which will bring us to Ambleside in three miles or so. But we must now join the carriage, — for which the terrace is not practicable standing at the summit of Red Bank. thence descends at first precipitately enough with wood upon either side, but presently becomes a shady level way, with villas, all pretty, and one of them charming, on the left-hand, and on the right the lake and basin of Grasmere.

which we left The road from

As we have started early for the purpose of seeing things thoroughly, the valley of Easedale should be by all means explored, for at least some little distance.

The carriage takes us about a mile and a-half, into the heart of that beautiful place, than which, a more secluded spot, considering that Helm Crag alone divides it, upon one side, from the King's highway, and a constant scene of traffic can scarcely be found in Britain. We have visited this Easedale a hundred times, and never, even in rain, have found it aught but glorious. The one house of any size which it contains, is so pretty that it may well be pardoned for the intrusion, and the few little farms and cottages in the valley befit its pastoral nature well. The westernmost cottage under Blentarn Ghyll is the scene of that tragedy which Wordsworth has described in verse and De Quincey in prose: the loss, upon the neighbouring mountain-top, of the father and mother of that infant family, who remained so many days and nights in their snow-surrounded home, awaiting the return of those whom they were never fated to see again. These pleasant placid-looking hills - the 'mud-heaps' of our voluminous writer which seem so innocently gay in summer-time, are dangerous enough to life and limb in winter. Nor has there perhaps been one single snow-time, without some fatal mischance to shepherd or to dalesman upon their treacherous heights. The next waterfall to that of Blentarn is a much larger one, called Sour Milk Ghyll, (a common designation of beck-leaps throughout the district) by the side of which there is a steep path lead