138 .Ascent 0f jScafell 



from above. With map and compass they may be made out ; 

 but the summit being greatly exposed to the wind, it is diffi- 

 cult to make use of these — and much time and trouble will 

 be saved by having the necessary information ready at hand. 



The summit is bare of everything that grows, except moss. 

 Not a blade of grass is to be seen : and it follows that the 

 herdsmen and shepherds never have to come here after their 

 charge. Blocks and inclined planes of slate-rock, cushioned 

 and draped with mosses, compose the peak. As to what is 

 seen from it, — the best thing a stranger can do is still to copy 

 portions of that ^ Letter to a Friend ' which Mr. Wordsworth 

 published many years ago, and which is the best account of 

 the greatest mountain-excursion in England. The weather 

 was, however, unusual. The guide said, when on the summit, 

 * I do not know that in my whole life, I was ever, at any 

 season of the year, so high upon the mountains on so calm 

 a day.* It was the seventh of October. 



* On the summit of the Pike,' says the letter, * which we 

 gained after much difficulty, there was not a breath of air to 

 stir even the papers containing our refreshment, as they lay 

 spread out upon a rock. The stillness seemed to be not of 

 this world. We paused, and kept silence to listen, and no 

 sound could be heard. The Scafell cataracts were voiceless 

 to us ; and there was not an insect to hum the air. The 

 vales which we had seen from Esk Hause lay yet in view • 

 and, side by side with Eskdale, we now saw the sister-vale 

 of Donnerdale terminated by the Duddon Sands. But the 

 majesty of the mountains below and close to us is not to be 

 conceived. We now beheld the whole mass of Great Gable 

 from its base — the den of Wastdale at our feet — a gulf 

 immeasurable ; Grasmoor, and the other mountains of Crum- 

 mock ; Ennerdale and its mountains ; and the sea beyond ! 

 While we were gazing around, " Look," I 



