hat
bright day returns, when Windermere glittered with all her sails in
honour of the great Northern Minstrel, and of him the Eloquent, whose
lips are now mute in the dust. Methinks we see his smile benign--that we
hear his voice silver-sweet!

"But away with melancholy,
Nor doleful changes ring"--

as such thoughts came like shadows, like shadows let them depart--and
spite of that which happeneth to all men--"this one day we give to
merriment." Pull, Billy, pull--or we will turn you round--and in that
case there is no refreshment nearer than Newby-bridge. The Naiad feels
the invigorated impulse--and her cut-water murmurs to the tune of six
knots through the tiny cataract foaming round her bows. The woods are
all running down the lake,--and at that rate, by two _post meridiem_
will be in the sea.

Commend us--on a tour--to lunch and dinner in one. 'Tis a saving both of
time and money--and of all the dinner-lunches that ever were set upon a
sublunary table, the _facile principes_ are the dinner-lunches you may
devour in the White Lion, Bowness. Take a walk--and a seat on the green
that overlooks the village, almost on a level with the lead-roof of the
venerable church--while Hebe is laying the cloth for a repast fit for
Jove, Juno, and the other heathen gods and goddesses; and if you must
have politics--why, call for the _Standard_ or _Sun_ (Heavens! there is
that hawk already at the _Times_), and devote a few hurried and hungry
minutes to the French Revolution. Why, the Green of all Greens--often
traced by us of yore beneath the midnight moonlight, till a path was
worn along the edge of the low wall, still called "North's Walk"--is
absolutely converted into a reading-room, and our laking party into a
political club. There is Louisa with the _Leeds Intelligencer_--and
Matilda with the _Morning Herald_--and Harriet with that York paper
worth them all put together--for it tells of Priam, and the Cardinal,
and St Nicholas--but, hark! a soft footstep! And then a soft voice--no
dialect or accent pleasanter than the Westmoreland--whispers that the
dinner-lunch is on the table--and no leading article like a cold round
of beef, or a veal pie. Let the Parisians settle their Constitution as
they will--meanwhile let us strengthen ours; and after a single glass of
Madeira--and a horn of home-brewed--let us off on foot--on horseback--in
gig--car and chariot--to Troutbeck.

It is about a Scottish mile, we should think, fr