during three months watched beside the corpse of his master, who had fallen and perished on a snowy spring day, in attempting to cross from Patterdale to Wythburn.

"How nourished there for such long time,

He knows, who gave that love sublime,
And gave that strength of feeling, great
Above all human estimate."

The view from the summit of Helvellyn is, with the exception of that from Scawfell, the finest panoramic mountain view in England.

The combination of Alpine wildness and grandeur, with the soft scenery which reposes in clothed slope and mirror-like lake at the bottoms of the hills, is what gives the Cumberland scenery its principal charm. Ullswater, which extends into Westmoreland, is thought to possess the greatest beauty: it is about nine miles in length, but nowhere more than one in breadth.

Windermere is a picturesque lake in Westmoreland (see engraving). The beautiful scenery which surrounds the placid waters of this lake has long been the theme of both poets and topographical writers. Wood, fell, and lake, are finely contrasted with ground more immediately devoted to the labors of the agriculturist. The disciples of "that quaint and cruel coxcomb," Isaac Walton, may here pursue their piscatory labors with a certainty of success, as the lake abounds with the finest fish. In the summer season, the neighboring heights are frequently spotted with small tents belonging to parties of pleasure, who are constantly arriving from the metropolis; and when the railroads now in progress are carried to their destination, thousands of persons will be enabled to enjoy the sylvan scenery of Cumberland and Westmoreland, to whom these delightful counties must otherwise have been completely unknown.

Derwentwater is often termed Keswick lake, from its vicinity to the town of Keswick. This beautiful expanse of water is remarkable for the wildness and grandeur of the neighboring scenery (see engraving). It is nearly of an oval form, and the whole is seen at one glance, expanding within an amphitheatre of mountains broken into many fantastic shapes, peaked, splintered, impending, and sometimes pyramidal, opening by narrow valleys to the view of the rocks, which rise immediately beyond, and are again overlooked by others. The precipices seldom overhang the water, but are arranged at some distance, and the shores swell with woody eminences, or sink into green pastoral margins. Masses of wood also frequently appear among the cliffs, feathering them to their summits; and a white cottage sometimes peeps from out their skirts, seated on the smooth knoll of a pasture projecting into the lake, and looking so extremely picturesque, as to seem placed there purposely to adorn it. The lake in return faithfully reflects the whole picture, and so even and brilliantly pellucid is its surface, that it rather heightens than obscures the coloring. It measures three miles in length by one and a half in breadth, and is only inferior to Ullswater. Mrs. Radcliffe, the eminent novelist, describes it as having peculiar charms, both from beauty and wildness. The bosom of the lake is spotted by several small, but well-wooded islands.

Leatheswater is also a considerable and beautiful lake in the interior of Cumberland (see engraving, above). This lake is situated in the interior of a very sequestered district, bordering on Westmoreland. Its shores are naked and rocky, and

display a scene of desolation, which is much heightened by the appearance of immense craggy masses that seem to hang on the sides of Helvellyn, from whose steeps they have apparently been severed, but have been arrested in their tremendous progress down its rugged sides, while others have reached the bottom, and are at rest in the silent lake. Near the middle, the lake is so contracted by its craggy boundaries, that a bridge of three arches has been thrown over it for the convenience of the neighboring inhabitants. Further on, the noise of waterfalls assail the ear on every side, which are seen tumbling from amazing heights in silvery threads. The north end is terminated by a pyramidal and towering rock.

Among the passes, that of Borrowdale is the most remarkable. It is a narrow chasm, opening from the centre of the amphitheatre which terminates the expanse of Derwentwater, and terminated by the vehement little stream of the same name. Near the entrance of the pass is a detached mountain, called Castle-Crag, with a peaceful village reposing at its foot; and opposite to Castle-Crag is the Bowderstone, a huge mass of rock, which has apparently fallen from the neighboring cliffs, and round whose base the road is made to wind. It is computed that this enormous boulder is not less than eighteen hundred tons in weight.

Cumberland is remarkable for possessing some of the finest cataracts and waterfalls in England; and to afford our readers some idea of the beauty of these, we give, in the beautiful cut accompanying this description, a picturesque sketch of Colruth falls, one of the most remarkable of them.

The lake scenery of Cumberland has by its beauty attracted a great number of permanent residents, whose villas enter pleasingly into its landscapes, and among whom the present age has seen several eminent literary men-Southey, Wordsworth, &c. It also attracts an immense number of tourists from all parts of the kingdom.

The district usually called "The Lakes" may be said also to comprehend a small northern and nearly detached portion of Lancashire, where Windermere and Coniston-Water are sheets rivalling in extent and beauty those of Cumberland.

No county in England possesses a greater variety of scenery than Derbyshire, or presents more striking geographical contrasts, than its northern and southern portions. The latter is a beautiful fertile district, in no way distinguished from other midland counties, but the northern part abounds with hill and dale, and the scenery is always romantic and frequently even sublime. A chain of hills arises, which extends to the borders of Scotland. These hills are at first of small elevation, but being in their progress piled on one another, they form very elevated ground in the tract called

"the High Peak." The mountains of the peak, although inferior to those of Cumberland, constitute the loftiest and most considerable range in the midland regions of the kingdom. The highest points are Axe-edge, which is 2,100 feet above the level of Derby, and Kinder-scout, which is 1,000 feet higher than the level of Buxton. About 700 eminences and fifty rocky caverns, dells, and valleys, have been enumerated in the region of the peak; the most celebrated is the "Peak Cavern," sometimes called "Devil's cave," and more frequently "Auld Horney."

This is situated in Castleton dale; the dale is six miles long and nearly two miles broad, and is calculated to be one thousand feet below the level of the surrounding country. It has been much celebrated, not because it is in that respect superior to many other valleys in Derbyshire, but from the lovely contrasts it presents to the steril, bleak, and desolate mountain tracts which surround it. The cavern itself is one of the most magnificent and extraordinary works of nature. It is almost impossible to conceive a scene more romantically beautiful, than the entrance to this cave. On each side, the huge gray rocks rise almost perpendicularly to the height of nearly three hundred feet, having on the left the rivulet which issues from the cavern, and foams along over crags and broken limestone. The mouth of the cave is formed by a vast canopy of rock, which assumes the form of a depressed arch, nearly regular in its structure, and which extends in width one hundred and twenty feet, is fortytwo feet in height, and above ninety feet in receding depth. This gloomy recess is inhabited by some poor people, who subsist by making packthread, and by selling candles, and officiating as guides to visiters. Their rude huts and twine-making machines produce a singular effect, in combination with the natural features of the scene. After penetrating about thirty yards into this recess, the roof becomes lower, and a gentle descent conducts by a detached rock to the immediate entrance to the interior, which is closed by a door kept locked by the guides. At this point the light of day, which had gradually softened into the obscurity of twilight, totally disappears, and torches are employed to illuminate the further progress through the darkness of the cavern. The passage then becomes low and confined, and the visiter is obliged to proceed twenty or thirty yards in a stooping posture, when he comes to another spacious opening, whence a path conducts to the margin of a small lake, called "First water;" this lake is about fourteen yards long, and in depth three or four feet: upon it is a small boat filled with straw, on which the visiter lies, and is thus conveyed into the interior of the cavern under a massive arch of rock, which is about five yards through, and in one place descends to within eighteen or twenty inches of the water. Beyond the lake a spacious vacuity of two hundred and twenty feet in length, two hundred feet broad, and in some parts one hundred and twenty high, opens in the bosom of the rocks; but the absence of light precludes the spectator from seeing either the sides or the roof of this great cavern.

It is traversed by a path consisting of steps cut in the sand, conducting from the first to the "Second water." Through this, visiters are generally conveyed upon the backs of the guides. Near the termination of this passage, before arriving at the water, there is a projecting pile of rocks, popularly called "Roger Rain's house," from the incessant fall of water through the crevices in the rocks. A little beyond this spot is the entrance of another hollow, called the "Chancel." At this point the rocks appear broken and dislocated, and the sides and prominent parts of the cavity are incrusted with large masses of stalactite. In the "Chancel," the stranger is much surprised and impressed by hearing the death-like stillness of the place suddenly interrupted by a burst of vocal music, from the upper regions of the cavern. The tones are wild and discordant, but, heard in such a place, and under such circumstances, produce a powerful impression. At the conclusion of the performance, the singers display their torches, and eight or ten women and children-the inhabitants of the huts at the entrance-appear ranged on a hollow of the rock, about fifty or sixty feet from the ground. From the "Chancel" the path leads onward to the "Devil's Cellar," and thence a gradual and somewhat rapid ascent of about one hundred and fifty feet conducts to a spot called the "Halfway House." Further on, the way proceeds between three natural arches, to another vast cavity, which is denominated “Great Tom of Lincoln," from its resemblance to the form of a bell. A very pleasing ef fect is produced, when this place is illuminated by a strong light. The arrangement of the rocks, the spiracles of the roof, and the flowing stream, unite to form a scene of no common interest: the distance from this spot to the termination of the entire hollow is not considerable. The vault gradually descends, the passage contracts,