The two villages of Harrowgate are a few scattered houses on a dreary common, and were it not for the pleasant faces and the good company you often meet with, there is nothing to excite the attention in respect to situation. The rides are tolerable, yet you seem to have nothing worth your pursuit but the dripping well and curious petrifactions at Knaresborough, which is five miles, and Stukely-park, near Rippon, seventeen miles from Harrowgate. You are amply repaid for the length of your ride, from the splendor of the scenes at Stukely.

The waters are said to be an antidote to the scurvy, have a sulphurious smell as well as taste; by some palates they have been said to taste like rotten eggs and gunpowder, and

in my opinion this is no bad comparison.

While at this place, having been invited by an old acquaintance to Kendal, in Westmoreland, I accepted his offer for two purposes, that of seeing a worthy intelligent character, and of having an opportunity of taking a survey of Wyndermere-lake, which I had long wished to see, and which lies about fourteen miles to the southwest of the town of Kendal.

After riding over the craggy hilly road from the above town to the lake, I never met with a scene that struck me more forcibly; it presents itself to you, first, at the distance of about half a mile, just as you have surmounted the summit of the last hill

on

on that road. Its smooth glassy face appears like a clear extensive mirror, seven or eight miles in length, and two in breadth; the lofty mountains, which nearly encircle the whole, present themselves to the traveller with a "sublime and beautiful" effect; but, when you view them from reflection in the water, they appear most formidable; their tremendous shaggy heads seem tumbling into a vast expanse; sometimes a cloud will suspend itself midway down a mountain's side, secluding part, leaving the base and summit only visible to the eye, throwing at the same time a pleasing partial shadow over some part of the chrystal lake beneath.

The Bishop of Landaff's seat stands a beautiful object at the head, Sir Michael

T 2

Michael Flemming's on one side, and Mr. Christian's on a small island, tastefully laid out in the centre of the lake. These gentlemen have wisely purchased all the contiguous land, in order to improve the scene, by planting down each mountain-side shrubs and various firs, which have greatly taken off that bleak and sterile appearance they formerly wore; they have also made the roads more comfortable to the fashionable visitors who every season make summer-excursions hither, in order to explore these luxuriant scenes of nature.

A little way north of this lake is Ambleside; and, having heard much of the waterfal at the back of the town, I was induced to extend my journey, and was fully gratified with viewing so grand an exhibition.

But

But it would be presumption in me to dwell on a subject which has been so ably and minutely given from the pens of Mr. Pennant and Mr. Grose, in whose publications the eye has also been aided by correct engravings taken on the spot.

Weary with rambling from place to place, I was much pleased to find near the waterfal a neat and comfortable house of refreshment, furnished with good viands as well as wine; here I rested, and indulged myself; but, after some time, was roused from my chair on hearing a female voice in notes of deep distress, and, looking from the window, saw a beautiful young damsel surrounded by a group of villagers, to whom she was bewailing the loss of her betrothed

Allen,