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 Claude, Salvator, and Poussin. The first should throw his delicate sunshine over the cultivated vales, the scattered cots, the groves, the lake, 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 and purple gloom, which the eye can hardly penetrate: the natural variety of coloring which the several objects produce is no less wonderful and pleasing: the ruling tincts 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 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 landskip in all its 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 have already seen; and rising behind each other in successive ranges and azure groups 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 moon◄ light (at which time the distant water-falls are heard in all their variety of sound) among these inchanting dales, open such scenes of delicate beauty, repose and solemnity, as exceed all description." 56. Of dread Lodore, &c.] A very high cascade here falls into the lake of Derwentwater, near where Borrodale-beck (or brook) enters into it, as described above. 57. Channels by rocky torrents torn, &c.] For an ac、 count of an extraordinary storm in a part of this country, called St. John's vale, by which numerous fragments of rocks were driven down from the mountains, along with cataracts of water, see a letter from Cockermouth, inserted in the Gentleman's Magazine of October, 1754, EPISTLE VIII. Page 66. What time the May-fly haunts the pool or stream;] The angler's May-fly, the ephemera vulgata of Linnaeus, comes forth from its aurelia state, and emerges out of the water about six in the evening, and dies about eleven at night, de- 66. ibid. While high in air, and pois'd upon his wings, Unseen, the soft enamour'd woodlark sings:] 'In ibid. 68. Leander hasten'd to his Hero's bed.] • See the Page 75. EPISTLE IX. -the mountain's side] That part of the Wicklow mountains which lies about three miles to the South of Dublin. 81. Where the proud Gaulties lift their awful brow,] A range of mountains in the county of Tipperary. ibid. And thee, dear village! loveliest of the clime,] Tipperary.. 82. Again, methinks I see the service spread, The cold provisions on the cakes of bread.] -Adorea liba per herbam Subjiciunt epulis, &c. VIR. EN. VII. 110. ibid. The plates themselves—the quarter'd cakes of flour,] -Malisque audacibus orbem Fatalis crusti, patulis nec parcere quadris : Heus etiam Mensas consumimus, inquit fulus. EPISTLE XI. Page 92. This epistle was originally preceded by the following DEDICATION to the DEAN. REVEREND-SIR, I should not take the liberty to recommend a meer Poem to your attention, were it not, in some degree, sanctified by the subject of which it treats; and more particularly entitled to your regard from the great purpose it is designed to promote-For The Project relates to Politics; that weighty science, which, according to your candid confession, is at least of equal importance with Religion-And the object it aims at, is the same in regard to all our political disputes, as yours avowedly is upon the one great contest of the |