MOUNTAINS. 113 



and surprises of Scotch scenery. Nay, even little 

 liills tliat seem to us nowadays perfectly contemp- 

 tible in their insignificance, roused tlie profound- 

 est alarm and dismay iii the susceptible bosoms of 

 our great-grandfathers. When the poet Cowper, 

 accustomed only to the gentle and monotonous 

 undulations of the eastern counties, first made a 

 pleasure journey through the bills of Surrey, he 

 noted with positive terror and bodily fear the 

 vast heights of the North Downs and the Forest 

 Kidge, though he takes care also to express his 

 profound admiration of that brave woman, Mrs. 

 Unwin, who could mount them all (in a comfort- 

 able carriage on the King's liigh-road) absolutely 

 undaunted. To us, at the present day, the little 

 elevations of Leith Hill and Crowborough Beacon, 

 whicii seemed to Cowper positively appalling in 

 their height and sublimity, appear nothing more 

 than pleasant goals for a short picnicking excursion 

 for the afternoon pedestrian fresh out from Lon- 

 don. 



It was just the same with other people far less 

 nervous and timid than the poet of Olney ; all 

 his contemporaries shared with him this singular 

 and to us incomprehensible dread and equally sin- 

 gular and incomprehensible admiration of any 

 height greater than that of a good-sized ordinary 

 mole-hill. Gilbert Wliite, a true lover of nature, 

 if ever there was one, speaks most na'ively of the 



