10 Letters of a JFanderer through England and Wales. [Aug. I 
eur.sisht with a view o} the delighttul lake 
of Uffswater, aud the wild recesses of 
Patterdaie. Bat rocks and moi;ntains, 
still higher than ilie height on which vre 
• stood, extended hir on every side, and 
presented a prospect as bleak, dreary, and 
onfruitlul, as nnagniatjon can picture; 
.the lofty fells of Martindale completely 
shutting out the view ot the lake beyond,^ 
and the dark frowning precipices of 
-Helveilyn, cn the further side of the 
valley, though at the distance of se%eral 
•miles, appearing close at hand. T-heGay 
■was, liowever, delighttul, and particuiuny 
favourable tor our excursion. Ihe air 
\vas mild, the sky clear and serene, and 
the whxole finnainent witliout a cloud or 
vapour to obscure the distant objects ^a 
circumstance bv uo means trequent in 
those mountainous districts^ ; and, after 
resting for a short wiiile to regain our 
breath, and look around us, we proceeded 
■with renovated strength, and buoyant 
spirits, to cross, tor the space ot another 
mile and a half, a boggy lieatli, strewn 
over with an immense number of whitish 
chalky stones; and m the spots, even w liere 
a constant moisture encouraged vegeta¬ 
tion, scarce a blade ot grass shot up, to 
vary the dismal hue of the dark-brown 
heath, throutiii which we scrambled wnh 
considerable difficulty, till w e reached the 
ediie of a descent, and looked down on 
Angle Tarn, a piece of water about two 
miles in circumfe^ence^^ aried by a couple 
of rocky islets, in one of w hich a stiinied 
tree or* two starts from the craggy, cre¬ 
vices, their foliage w ithered by the winds 
tiiat pass across the heights, and ciieir 
whitened trunks adding wildness to a 
scene, where all is bleak, inhospitable, 
cold, and cheerless; grey rocky preci¬ 
pices, unadorned by the many-coloured 
mosses, or the luxuriant tern, that in other 
places beautify their weather-beaten sides, 
and piles of stones confusedly thrown to¬ 
gether, as if cast upon the earth by some 
terrible convulsion of nature, cover, with 
patches of heath and rushes, the space as 
tar as eye can reach, around this inelaii- 
cholv Tarn. The trouts, liowever, which 
inhabit its depths, are of the richest fia- 
VGur, and ofa modeiarely large size. Our 
guide, who was an expert angler, soon 
caught some of tliem, while we rested 
and partook of our coid viands; and we 
r.fterwards found them most delicious, 
when cooked for us at our inn. Some, 
wild-fowi occasionally inliabit the banks 
of Ansle-Tarn ; but they are nor stati- 
onar-y tliere. and none were .to be seen 
^hen we visited ic. liaving walked some. 
way farther across the ridge to tlie south 
of this little lake or Tarn (which you 
must recollect is the provincial name for 
a small piece of water, as Bcc/c or Gill 
is for streams and rivulets) ; we still vainly 
souglit to gain a peep at Uliswater; but 
the bleak heights of Martindale defeated 
our wislies; and, tired of a scene so un- 
invitino- and drearv, we bent our course 
towards the east, still keeping on the 
heights, and, after traversing about two 
more mHes of this cheerless waste, we ar¬ 
rived in view of Hays, or Haize-waier, 
deep sunk betwixt stupendous rocky 
mountains, and, like its neighbour we 
had recently quitted, unadorned by trees 
or bushes, and presenting an aspect of 
singular wildness and romantic grandeur. 
HayS'w ater is nearly a mile and quar¬ 
ter in length, and scarce half a mile in 
breadth. Secretly and unruffled it laves 
the base of a prodigious craggy moun¬ 
tain on the right; while, on the opposite 
shore, a succession of little green knolls 
intervene betwixt the mountains and the 
water, and gives animation and diversity 
to the landscape, which is bounded by a 
line of lofty precipices, composed of sla- 
ty rubbish, that after every storm rushes 
in stripes over the almost-perpendicular 
points of the ridges, while immense 
masses of solid rock guard well the en¬ 
trance to this sequestered spot, on that 
part where the mountains do not unite, 
and, at first sight, seem to, bid defi¬ 
ance to tiie stranger. I strolled towards 
the upper end of the lake, while my 
companion, with our guide, bounded 
over the narrow footpath on the opposite 
rugged mountain, where the steepness of 
the heights, the craggy precipices they 
had to pass, and jmmtier of inconveni¬ 
ences to undergo, deterred me from ven¬ 
turing to follow their lead, and I slowly 
retraced my steps along the gravelly 
beach, indulging in that pleasing pensrve- 
ness, the surrounding scenery and the 
mildness of the air were calculated to in¬ 
spire : for there the world, and ail i4e 
busy, bustling, cares, seemed w holly at a 
distance; not a sound bioke in upon the 
solemn '■i.Jmess of the scene. The even¬ 
ing was advancing, iind the sun had cast 
a ricii glow of colouring on the summits 
of the distant heights ; wl;ile the pure 
azure of the firmanieiu was rtllected on 
t!;e glassy surface of the lake, w hich,gent¬ 
ly undulating with the breeze that occa¬ 
sionally wafted througli the air, presented 
tlie sweetest picture of serenity and uni¬ 
versal calmness. Wild unquestionably 
nas the prospect; but it was, notwith- 
staiidingj 
