We found the venerable man in his low, dark parlor. He very
kindly showed us his study, and then took us over his grounds.
When we took our leave, I asked him to give each of us a leaf from a
fine laurel tree near him; this he did very kindly, and smiled as
kindly at my effort at a compliment, in saying to him something
about one who had received so many laurels having some to spare to
others. I thanked him for his goodness in giving me so much of his
time, and bade the venerable man good by, very much pleased with my
visit, and very grateful to the kind friend who had introduced me to
him, and insured me a welcome. I shall never forget that day.
Ambleside is a very fashionable place for travellers to visit in the
summer months, and we saw there many distinguished and agreeable
people.
I had a conversation with an intelligent lad of fourteen years of
age, which impressed me very much. He was talking with me about our
country, and finding faults with it of various kinds. While I could,
I defended it. He thought our revolution was only a rebellion. I
told him that all revolutions were only successful rebellions, and
that we bore with the tyranny of his country as long as we could. "I
don't like the Americans," said he; he blushed as he thought of the
discourtesy of saying this to me, and then added, "they are so
inconsistent; they call themselves republicans, and then hold
slaves, and that is so wicked and absurd." He went on to say all he
thought and felt about the wickedness of slavery. I heard him to the
end, and then said, "There is nothing you have said upon that
subject that I do not agree to entirely. You cannot say too much
against slavery; but I call myself an abolitionist, and while I
live, I mean to say and do all I can against it. There are many
people in America, also, who feel as I do, and we hope to see it
abolished."
While we were in Westmoreland, we made an excursion of four days
among the beautiful lakes. Miss Martineau was our guide and
companion. She knows the name of every mountain, every lake, every
glen and dale, every stream and tarn, and her guidance lent a new
charm to the scenes of grandeur and beauty through which she
conducted us.
We took a vehicle which the people call a jaunting car; it is a
square open carriage with two side seats and a door behind; and is
drawn by one horse. Two easy steps and a door easily opened let you
in and out when you please. The car holds four persons. The driver
has a seat in front, and under it he tied our carpet bag.
Never did four souls enjoy themselves more than we on this little
excursion. I could not give you an adequate idea of what we saw, or
of the pleasure we took. Think of coming down from one of these
beautiful hills into Eskdale, or Ennesdale, of walking four miles on
the banks of Ullswater, of looking with your living eyes on Derwent
Water, Grassmere, Windermere, and many other lovely spots of which
you have seen pictures and read descriptions; and of being one in
the pleasantest party in the world, as you think, stopping where,
and when, and as long as any one pleases.
It was on this journey that I first saw a real ruin. The ruins of
Calder Abbey I had never heard of; but the impression it made upon
me I can never forget; partly, perhaps, that it was the first ruin
upon which I ever gazed. One row of the pillars of the great aisle
remains standing. The answering row is gone. Two tall arches of the
body of the main building remain also, and different pieces of the
walls. It is of sandstone; the clusters of columns in the aisle look
as if they were almost held together by the ivy and honeysuckles
that wave around their mouldering capitals with every motion of the
wind. In every crevice, the harebell, the foxglove, and innumerable
other flowers peep forth, and swing in the wind. On the tops of the
arches and walls large flowering shrubs are growing; on the highest
is a small tree, and within the walls are oak trees more than a
century old. The abbey was built seven hundred years ago; and the
ruins that are now standing look as if they might stand many
centuries longer. The owner of the place has made all smooth and
nice around it, so that you may imagine the floor of the church to
look like green velvet. It seems as if the ivy and the flowers were
caressing and supporting the abbey in its beautiful old age.
As I walked under the arches and upon the soft green turf, that so
many years ago had been a cold rough stone pavement, trodden by
beings like myself; and felt the flowers and vines hanging from the
mouldering capitals touch my face; and saw, in the place where was
once a confessional, an oak tree that had taken centuries to grow,
and whose top branches mingled with the smiling crest of flowers
that crowned the tops of the highest arches, - the thought of the
littleness and the greatness of man, and the everlasting beauty of
the works of the Creator, almost overwhelmed me; and I felt that,
after all, I was not in a decaying, ruined temple, but in an
everlasting church, that would grow green and more beautiful and
perfect as time passes on.
There is a fine old park around these lovely ruins; and, not far
off, a beautiful stream of water, with a curious bridge over it.
