OLD ALPINE JOTTINGS. 445 



found my friend Huxley low in health and spirits. I 

 therefore carried him off to the hills of Cumberland. 

 Swiss scenery was so recent a memory that it was 

 virtually present, and I had therefore an opportunity 

 of determining whether it interfered with the enjoy- 

 ment of English scenery. I did not find this to be the 

 case. I hardly ever enjoyed a walk more than that 

 along the ridge of Fairfield, from Ambleside to Grise- 

 dale Tarn. We climbed Helvellyn, and, thanks to the 

 hospitality of a party on the top, were enabled to sur- 

 vey the mountain without the intrusion of hunger. We 

 thought it noble. Striding Edge, Swirling Edge, the 

 Red Tarn, and Catchedecarn, combined with the sum- 

 mit to form a group of great grandeur. The storm 

 was strong on Striding Edge, which, on account of its 

 associations, 1 I chose for my descent, while the better 

 beaten track of Swirling Edge was chosen by my more 

 conservative companion. At Ulles water we had the 

 pleasure of meeting an eminent Church dignitary and 

 his two charming daughters. They desired to cross 

 the mountains to Lodore, and we, though ignorant of 

 the way, volunteered our guidance. The offer was 

 accepted. We made a new pass on the occasion, which 

 we called c the Dean's Pass,' the scenery and incidents 

 of which were afterwards illustrated by Huxley. 

 Emerson, who is full of wise saws, speaks of the broad 

 neutral ground which may be occupied to their common 

 profit by men of diverse habits of thought ; and 

 on the day to which I now refer there seemed no 

 limit to the intellectual region over which the dean 

 and his guides could roam without severance or col- 

 lision. In the presence of these peaks and meres, 



1 On Striding Edge was killed the traveller whose fate suggested 

 the fine elegy of Scott, commencing, 



I climbed the dark brow of the mighty Helvellyn .* 



