them more in grandeur than I can give you to imagine, and more, if possible, in beauty than in grandeur.

"Instead of the narrow slip of valley which is seen at Dovedale, you have at Keswick a vast amphitheatre, in circumference above twenty miles. Instead of a meagre rivulet, a noble living lake, ten miles round, of an oblong form, adorned with a variety of wooded islands. The rocks, indeed, of Dovedale are finely wild, pointed, and irregular, but the hills are little and unanimated, and the margin of the brook is poorly edged with weeds, morass, and brushwood. But at Keswick you will, on one side of the lake, see a rich and beautiful landscape of cultivated fields, rising to the eye in fine inequalities, with noble groves of oak, happily dispersed, and climbing the adjacent hills, shade above shade, in the most various and picturesque forms. On the opposite shore, you will find rocks and cliffs of stupendous height, hanging broken over the lake in horrible grandeur, some of them a thousand feet high, the woods climbing up their steep and shaggy sides, where mortal foot never yet approached. On these dreadful heights the eagles build their nests. A variety of waterfalls are seen pouring from their summits, and tumbling in vast sheets from rock to rock, in rude and terrible magnificence; while, on all sides of this immense amphitheatre, the lofty mountains rise round, piercing the clouds in shapes as spiry and fantastic, as the very rocks of Dovedale. To this I must add, the frequent

and bold projection of the cliffs into the lake,, forming noble bays and promontories. In other parts they finely retire from it, and often open in abrupt chasms or clefts, through which at hand you see rich and cultivated vales, and beyond these, at various distances, mountain rising over mountain; among which, new prospects present themselves in mist, till the eye is lost in an agreeable perplexity,

Where active fancy travels beyond sense,

And pictures things unseen.

"Were I to analyse the two places into their constituent principles, I should tell you, that the full perfection of Keswick consists of three circumstances, beauty, horror, and immensity united, the second of which alone is found in Dovedale. Of beauty it hath little: nature having left it almost a desert. Neither its small extent, nor the diminutive and lifeless form of the hills, admit magnificence. But to give you a complete idea of these three perfections, as they are joined in Keswick, would require the united powers of a Claude, Salvador, and Poussin. The first should throw his delicate sun-shine over the cultivated vales, the scattered cots, the groves, the lakes, and wooded islands. The second should dash out the horror of the rugged cliffs, the steeps, the hanging woods, and foaming water-falls; while the grand pencil of Poussin should crown the whole, with the majesty of the impending mountains.

"So much for what I would call the permanent beauties of this astonishing scene. Were I not afraid of being tiresome, I could now dwell as long on its varying or accidental beauties. I would sail round the lake, anchor in every bay, and land you on every promontory and island. I would point out the perpetual change of prospect: the woods, rocks, cliffs, and mountains, by turns vanishing or rising into view: now gaining on the sight, hanging over our heads in their full dimensions, beautifully dreadful; and now, by a change of situation, assuming new romantic shapes, retiring and lessening on the eye, and insensibly losing themselves in an azure mist. I would remark the contrast of light and shade, produced by the morning and evening sun; the one gilding the western, the other the eastern side of this immense amphitheatre; while the vast shadow, projected by the mountains, buries the opposite part in a deep purple gloom, which the eye can hardly penetrate.

"The natural variety of colouring, which the several objects produce, is no less wonderful and pleasing. The ruling tints in the valley being those of azure, green, and gold, yet ever various, arising from an intermixture of the lake, the woods, the grass, and corn-fields. These are finely contrasted by the grey rocks and cliffs; and the whole heightened by the yellow streams of light, the purple hues, and misty azure of the mountains. Sometimes a serene air and clear sky

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disclose the tops of the highest hills at others, you see the clouds involving their summits, resting on their sides, or descending to their base, and rolling among the vallies, as in a vast furnace.When the winds are high, they roar among the cliffs and caverns, like peals of thunder; then, too, the clouds are seen in vast bodies, sweeping along the hills in gloomy greatness, while the lake joins the tumult, and tosses like a sea. But in calm weather, the whole scene becomes new: the lake is a perfect mirror; and the landscape, in all beauty, islands, fields, woods, rocks, and mountains, are seen inverted, and floating on its surface.

"I will now carry you to the top of a cliff, where, if you dare approach the ridge, a new scene of astonishment presents itself; where the valley, lake, and islands seem lying at your feet; where this expanse of water appears diminished to a little pool, amidst the vast and immeasurable objects that surround it; for here the summits of more distant hills appear beyond those you had already seen, and rising behind each other in successive ranges and azure groupes of craggy and broken steeps, form an immense and awful picture, which can only be expressed by the image of a tempestuous sea of mountains.

"Let me now conduct you down again to the valley, and conclude with one circumstance more, which is, that a walk by still moonlight (at which time the distant waterfalls are heard in all their

variety of sound) among these enchanting dales, opens a scene of such delicate beauty, repose, and solemnity, as exceeds all description."

Advice to a young Lady, on seeing her dance.

Oh! may you walk as years advance,
Smooth and erect, as now you dance;
May you on each important stage,
From bloom of youth to wither'd age,
Assert your claim to merit's eyes,
In which are center'd heavenly joys:
Observant of decorum's laws,
And moving with the same applause,
May you, through life's perplexing maze,
Direct your steps with equal praise;
Its intricate meanders trace
With regularity and grace;

From the true figure never swerve,
And time in every step observe;
Give ear to harmony and reason,
Nor make one motion out of season!
Thus will life's current gently flow,
And pour forth every bliss below;
Till, nature failing, time shall bring
Death with his dart-but not his sting.

The following Epilogue was spoke by Miss Fanny Wheeler, to a very polite audience, at the theatre in Shrewsbury, September 12, 1763.