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caster. Before the railway had drawn travellers from the turnpike-road this view, bursting unexpectedly upon the stranger, was calculated to excite his liveliest admiration

and delight. Many were the post-chaises that used to stop, at the command of their occupants, upon the brow of the hill, while they gazed upon the varied beauties of the landscape. The passenger by the railway-train, who has missed this view, should by all means take an easy stroll" up the Greaves," as it is called. He will pass the Railway-Station on his way, which he will leave to his right. About a hundred yards beyond the station, at a row of houses called " the Pointer," he should turn round to view the Castle, which is no where seen to such advantage as from this spot. It forms a grand and massive pile of building, and seems built upon an eminence in the midst of the town which it commands. The large square, or Lungess tower, with its keep, reposes in the centre, in kingly majesty, closely surrounded by outer walls, having, at intervals, their turrets and battlements. The Gateway Tower, the finest architectural structure in the Castle, is seen to perfection here. It is that part of the Castle nearest the spectator, and frowns upon the surrounding buildings with its corbels and over-hanging battlements, in a manner becoming its high office and antiquity. The lofty tower of the Church, and the large eastern window, also mingle with the towers of the Castle; and seen from this spot the whole forms a pile of building of a strength and compactness of a mingled harmony and majesty—that cannot fail to charm the eye. The mind, too, is involun

tarily carried back to the times when the proud barons of old, the earls and dukes of Lancaster, lived here in almost kingly state, surrounded by a retinue, and exercising a hospitality, that challenged the wonder and admiration of those days.

Some writers, who yet allow that Lancaster Castle is one of the finest objects in the Kingdom, are perverse enough to complain of the integrity and usefulness of the structure. In the place of these magnificent towers, occupying a commanding site, and conveying the idea of vast strength, they would have ruined walls and crumbling battlements overgrown by ivy, and speaking of partial demolition and decay. Such are not our notions of the requirements of the picturesque, nor will they be those of the majority of intelligent visitors. The associations of baronial splendor-of feudal haughtiness-of princely hospitality-and of the pomp and circumstance of chivalry —are recalled much more vividly by those seemingly impregnable walls, than by any of the broken lines and dismantled battlements of those who hold that

Till use is exiled.

Beauty never dwells

Long, therefore, may the proud Norman Keep, the magnificent Gateway, and the rest of those ducal towers rear their mighty heads, untouched by the tooth of time or of neglect.

Pursuing our walk on the great turnpike-road, we come a quarter of a mile further, by a gentle ascent, to the brow of the hill, where our tourist approaches the end

of the walk we have prescribed for him. The sister turrets of the Castle and Church, already described, make an admirable centre, or principal object for the eye to rest upon. Behind this are the blue waters of the Bay of Morecambe, about eight miles in length and nine in breadth—over whose opposite sea-line the white houses of its villages may be distinctly seen. Right and left of the Castle, in two distinct groups, are the mountains of Cumberland and Westmoreland, which lie, far away in the distance, like couchant lions, giving an air of inexpressible repose and beauty to the the picture of which they form so complete a back-ground. Still further to the left or westward of the Westmoreland range of hills lies Black Combe, like a huge whale just putting to sea; and, at the foot of Black Combe, the peninsula of Furness sends out a long low strip of land which seems almost to convert the Bay into a vast lake. A little to the left of the Castle the silver Lune emerges; and runs in a southerly direction, past the spectator, to the sea, hidden from view, however, by some undulating hills at his feet. Westward of this unseen course of the Lune, just discerned over the high lands beyond, the waters of the Irish channel are visible. Behind the spectator are the broad estuary of the Lune, and the vast tract of level land forming the blue Fylde; while the effect of the whole scene is remarkably heightened by the beauty and picturesque appearance of the clouds. Such are the principal objects that make up this fine panorama of mountain, cloud, and sea: it is a picture which, seen as it is under ever-shifting combinations

of light and shade, never tires the eye or palls upon the fancy. The lover of nature has not now to learn for the first time how important an element of every prospect are the clouds. He will here, if we mistake not, deem the good people of Lancaster well nigh compensated for the humidity of their climate, by the extreme splendour and beauty of the aerial messengers charged with the so-frequent showers. Sometimes they come hurrying up from the sea in companies; and chase each other, across the azure canopy, like an army in pursuit-anon they sail along, and, catching the rays of the sun, exhibit a spotless radiance whiter and purer than the drifted snow: at other times they congregate in masses over the distant hills, like Ossa upon Pelion, until the eye can scarcely detect where Lake-land ends and Cloud-land begins.

We have preferred to describe the view, as seen from the best known and most easily accessible situation, and where, too, the "noblest back-ground which perhaps this island affords of rock and mountain," is seen to the best advantage. But if the traveller will take the trouble to ascend the rising ground to the east, by the lane at the foot of which we have supposed him to stand, he will take in a prospect of infinitely greater extent. At the brow of this high ground is a gate leading on the left to an observatory-like building called Belle Vue; just before approaching this the stranger may take his stand, and will look down npon a view of almost-unequalled panoramic vastness. The bay of Morecambe, which at every tide receives into a basin of almost 100,000 acres the waters of

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the Irish Sea, is spread out to view throughout its vast extent. Further on we have the varied outline of the Cumberland and Westmoreland hills. The stone houses of the town beneath harmonize, not ungracefully, with the massive towers of the fortress. The silver waters of the Lune, which were before concealed from view by the undulating hills through which it pursues its devious way, are here seen through their whole course to the estuary where the river empties itself into the sea, and where it forms, sometimes a fine expanse of water, and at others a dreary waste of sand. To the south the level tract called the Fylde is now first seen through its immense extent. Westwards, and blending with the horizon, are the waters of St. George's Channel, which in an afternoon's sun reflect back a dazzling sheen. The ruins of Peel Castle, situated on an island which appears a portion of the peninsula of Furness, finish the picture.

THE LADIES' WALK, AND THE VALE Of lune. The traveller's next walk should be in a different direction, but where he will be no less amply repaid. Having seen what Dame Nature can do with the bolder features of a landscape, he will view her in her quieter aspects; and, if he have a heart open to her softer and sweeter influences, it will now hardly fail to be touched with delight. The walk from the new bridge, along the Ladies' Walk and by the river's side, to the Aqueduct, would of itself reward the stranger; but when taken in connection with the view seen from the latter structure, where the vale of Lune is

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