London to John O Groat's. 293 



you will be astonished at it, standing far or near. 

 The tall, ridgy, curved, conical screw puzzles you 

 with all sorts of optical illusions. As the eyes in a 

 front-face portrait follow you around the room in 

 which it is hung, so this strange spire seems to lean 

 over upon you at every point, as you walk round the 

 church. Indeed, I believe it was only found out 

 several centuries after its erection, that it absolutely 

 leaned more in one direction than another. It is a 

 remarkable sight from the railway as you approach 

 the town from a distance. If it may be said reve- 

 rently, the church, standing on comparatively a hill, 

 not only lifts its horn on high, but one like that of a 

 rhinoceros, considerably curved. Just outside the town 

 stands the house in which Greorge Stephenson lived his 

 last days, and ended his great life of benefaction to man- 

 kind ; leaving upon that haloed spot a biograph which 

 the ages of time to come shall not wash out. 



From Chesterfield I diverged westward to see Chats- 

 worth and Haddon Hall. Whoever makes this walk 

 or ride, let him be sure to stop on Watch Hill on the 

 way, and look at the view eastward. It is grander 

 than that of the Belvoir Vale, if not so beautiful. 



It was a pleasure quite equal to my anticipation to 

 visit Chatsworth for the first time, after a sojourn in 

 England, off and on, for sixteen years. It is the lion 



