There are a few edifices of more pretension and of
modern build, but not so strikingly so as to put the rest out of
countenance. The post-office, when we found it, proved to be an ivied
cottage, with a good deal of shrubbery round it, having its own pathway,
like the other cottages. The whole looks like a real seclusion, shut out
from the great world by these encircling hills, on the sides of which,
whenever they are not too steep, you see the division lines of property,
and tokens of cultivation,--taking from them their pretensions to savage
majesty, but bringing them nearer to the heart of man.
Since writing the above, I have been again with S----- to see
Wordsworth's grave, and, finding the door of the church open, we went in.
A woman and little girl were sweeping at the farther end, and the woman
came towards us out of the cloud of dust which she had raised. We were
surprised at the extremely antique appearance of the church. It is
paved with bluish-gray flagstones, over which uncounted generations have
trodden, leaving the floor as well laid as ever. The walls are very
thick, and the arched windows open through them at a considerable
distance above the floor. There is no middle aisle; but first a row of
pews next either wall, and then an aisle on each side of the pews,
occupying the centre of the church,--then, two side aisles, but no
middle one. And down through the centre or the church runs a row of
five arches, very rude and round-headed, all of rough stone, supported
by rough and massive pillars, or rather square, stone blocks, which
stand in the pews, and stood in the same places probably, long before
the wood of those pews began to grow.
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