But, to say the truth, I was weary of fine scenery, and it seemed
to me that I had eaten a score of mountains, and quaffed as many lakes,
all in the space of two or three days,--and the natural consequence was a
surfeit. There was scarcely a single place in all our tour where I
should not have been glad to spend a month; but, by flitting so quickly
from one point to another, I lost all the more recondite beauties, and
had come away without retaining even the surface of much that I had seen.
I am slow to feel,--slow, I suppose, to comprehend, and, like the
anaconda, I need to lubricate any object a great deal before I can
swallow it and actually make it my own. Yet I shall always enjoy having
made this journey, and shall wonder the more at England, which
comprehends so much, such a rich variety, within its narrow bounds. If
England were all the world, it still would have been worth while for the
Creator to have made it, and mankind would have had no cause to find
fault with their abode; except that there is not room enough for so many
as might be happy here.
We left the great inverted arch of the valley behind us, looking back as
long as we could at Blencathra, and Skiddaw over its shoulder, and the
clouds were gathering over them at our last glimpse. Passing by Dummail
Raise (which is a mound of stones over an old British king), we entered
Westmoreland, and soon had the vale of Grasmere before us, with the
church where Wordsworth lies, and Nab Scaur and Rydal Water farther on.
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