lies

seen still further opened up to sight, it is a treat that should by no means be lost. Leaving Skerton bridge, a model of lightness and elegance, on his left, the way along a promenade with trees on each side, which our town'speople owe to the old corporation of the borough. At the end of this walk we come to a weir or lock of great length, made for the purposes of the salmon-fishery, down which the waters of the Lune fall a depth of four or five feet. There is another weir of even greater length on the opposite side of the river, and a third higher up the stream; and it is difficult to say whether these water-falls most delight the ear or the eye. The waters of the Lune are remarkable for their almost crystal clearness; and on a fine day these cascades sparkle brilliantly in the sun, flash back his rays, and, in their mimic wrath, throw up a snowy foam that, to use a poetical image, reminds one of the cream of a glass of champagne. This for the eye. The ear is soothed by the murmur of falling waters, which, borne along in plaintive and fitful bursts, rises and falls with the breeze, and delightfully lulls the prison'd sense. Our way continues to lie along the green banks of the river. The opposite shore is well fringed with wood, and takes a wide and bold sweep just before it reaches the Aqueduct. We get a pretty snatch of landscape beneath the high and capacious arches of the Aqueduct as soon as we have passed the last stile, and then, bearing to the right, we soon gain the short and sharp ascent to the top.

Surely in such a scene as that now lying below us, must the bard of Erin have penned his "Meeting of the Waters, a poem which the visitor will thank us for transcribing here:

There is not in the wide world a valley so sweet

As that vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet;
Oh! the last rays of feeling and life must depart,
Ere the bloom of that valley shall fade from my heart.

Yet it was not that nature had shed o'er the scene
Her purest of crystal and brightest of green;
'Twas not her soft magic of streamlet or hill,
Oh no,-it was something more exquisite still.

'T was that friends, the beloved of my bosom, were near,
Who made every dear scene of enchantment more dear,
And who felt how the best charms of nature improve
When we see them reflected from looks that we love.

Sweet vale of Avoca! how calm could I rest

In thy bosom of shade, with the friends I love best,
Where the storms that we meet in this cold world should cease,
And our hearts, like thy waters, be mingled in peace.

Turning his back upon Lancaster, and looking up the valley, the spectator has beneath him the “ bright waters" of the river, as they flow towards him from the mountains through the quiet vale. The banks of the stream are prettily fringed with hedge-rows and brushwood; while, on the left, meadows, containing shrubberies and a park-like disposition of trees, come boldly down to the water's edge. On the right of the river the land is principally arable, and during harvest the grain-crops give a look of added fertility to the view. Following the course of the river the

at the top of the hill, a panoramic scene of great extent is spread open to the view, comprehending the town and castle, the silver waters of the Lune with its green islets at the foot of the hill; and beyond this the bay, the sea, and the distant mountains. Mrs. Radcliffe has described the "view from this hill as pre-eminent for grandeur, and comprehending an extent of sea and land, and a union of the sublime in both, which we have never seen equalled. In the green vale of the Lune below lies the town, spreading up the side of a hill over-topped by the the old towers of the castle and church. Beyond, over a ridge of gentle heights which bind the west side of the vale, the noble inlet of the sea, that flows upon the Ulverstone and Lancaster sands, is seen at the feet of an amphitheatre formed by nearly all the mountains of the Lakes; an exhibition of Alpine grandeur, both in form and colouring, which, with the extent of water below, composes a scene perhaps faintly rivalling that of the lake of Geneva. To the south and west, the Irish Channel finishes the view."-Tour to the Lakes.

HISTORY OF LANCASTER.

A GUIDE to Lancaster would be incomplete which did not attempt, however imperfectly, to sketch the early history and subsequent rise and progress of the town. The antiquarian zeal of the visitor cannot be properly kindled, or his interest in the venerable remains of " time honored Lancaster" be fully awakened, unless he is reminded of what important and stirring events the county town has

been the scene. The history of Lancaster is not only the political history of Lancashire, but bears a prominent figure in the annals of the English monarchy, from the period of the Norman Conquest to the wars of the Roses and the final annexation of the duchy to the English crown. The difficulty is, with such ample and inviting materials before us, to confine our historical retrospect within due limits. Successively a British city (Caer), a Roman station of the upper Empire, a Saxon town, the head of a Norman barony having powerful feudatories throughout the county, an earldom and duchy-whose dukedom ranks the first in the kingdom,—and, lastly, the capital and county town of one of the largest and most populous counties in the kingdom; Lancaster claims a prominent notice in any history of this realm, and particularly of the northern portions. Indeed we may say, that few places abound with reminiscences and remains more interesting to the lovers of history as well as to the antiquarian, than the "good old town," as it is fondly called by its inhabitants.

There seems little reason to doubt that when the invading Romans, under Julius Agricola, reached this part of the country in the autumn of 79, they found here a small town known as Caer Werid, and probably some rude defences. It must not be forgotten, however, that "it is called a town among the Britons when a woody height is fenced round with a trench and rampire; where to avoid excursions they retire and take refuge." The

*Cæsar's Com.

occupation of Lancaster by Julius Agricola took place a hundred and thirty years after the invasion of the south of England by Cæsar, i.e. in the autumn of 79, very early in the reign of Titus, and about the time of the first famous eruption of Vesuvius, and the destruction of Herculaneum. A Roman station was necessary at this place, both for the protection of commerce, and the conveyance of military stores required from Gaul and Italy for the stations of the north.

The Romans retained possession of Lancaster three hundred and thirty years. On their departure the Picts and Scots got possession of the Castle. The Saxons were its next occupants, who were compelled to capitulate to the valour and prowess of King Arthur-no fictitious personage, but a right brave British monarch, who himself, it is said, conducted the siege of the Castle. The Saxons, however, regained possession, as their conquests advanced, and held it without interruption for three or four centuries. The town suffered much from the invasions of the Danes in the ninth century. At the division of Britain into counties by Alfred the great, Lonkeshire received its name from its capital Loncaster (the camp on the Lon or Lune). Many years previous to the Conquest, Lancaster seems to have sunk into the condition of an inconsiderable village, and was indeed brought so low, that in the survey by William I. no mention is made of any fort or Castle at Lancaster. The Roman fortresses had gone to decay. The Saxon earls (the lords of the honor of Lancaster) appear to have preferred the more sheltered and fertile vale of