CRICH PARISH

which consists of the villages of Crich, Fritchley and Whatstandwell

"Days in Derbyshire"

Dr Spencer T. Hall

Thank you to George Wigglesworth for bring this book to our attention.

Transcribed by Peter Patilla

Although the full contents for the book is shown only pages relevant to Crich Parish have been transcribed.

Days in Derbyshire


BY DR. SPENCER T. HALL,


“THE SHERWOOD FORESTER”


AUTHOR OF


"THE FORESTER'S OFFERING,"


"RAMBLES IN THE COUNTRY,"


"THE PEAK AND THE PLAIN,"


"LIFE AND DEATH IN IRELAND,"


"MESMERIC EXPERIENCES,"


AND OTHER WORKS. WITH SIXTY ILLUSTRATIONS BY


GRESLEY, DALZIEL BROTHERS, BAILEY, WARWICK, AND OTHERS.


LONDON : SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, & Co.,


STATIONERS' HALL COURT.


DERBY: RICHARD KEENE.


1863.

CONTENTS.

PAGE

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER ... ... ... ... 1

CHAPTER THE SECOND.

A DAY AT CRICH ... ... ... ... ... 6

CHAPTER THE THIRD.

GOING TO MATLOCK BATH ... ... ... ... 20

CHAPTER THE FOURTH.

MATLOCK DALE ... ... ... ... ... 33

CHAPTER THE FIFTH.

MATLOCK BANK AND DARLEY DALE ... ... 47

CHAPTER THE SIXTH.

VIA GELLIA, STONNUS, AND FOX CLOUD ... ... 56

CHAPTER THE SEVENTH.

RIBER, DETHICK, AND LEA ... ... ... ... 74

CHAPTER THE EIGHTH.

LEA HURST AND HOLLOWAY ... ... ... 81

CHAPTER THE NINTH.

WINGFIELD MANOR 87

CHAPTER THE TENTH.

CONTENTS.

 

PAGE

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER ... ... ... ... 1

CHAPTER THE SECOND.

A DAY AT CRICH ... ... ... ... ... 6

CHAPTER THE THIRD.

GOING TO MATLOCK BATH ... ... ... ... 20

CHAPTER THE FOURTH.

MATLOCK DALE ... ... ... ... ... 33

CHAPTER THE FIFTH.

MATLOCK BANK AND DARLEY DALE ... ... 47

CHAPTER THE SIXTH.

VIA GELLIA, STONNUS, AND FOX CLOUD ... ... 56

CHAPTER THE SEVENTH.

RIBER, DETHICK, AND LEA ... ... ... ... 74

CHAPTER THE EIGHTH.

LEA HURST AND HOLLOWAY ... ... ... 81

CHAPTER THE NINTH.

WINGFIELD MANOR 87

CHAPTER THE TENTH.

A GLANCE AT SCARSDALE ... ... ... ... 94

CHAPTER THE ELEVENTH.

BOLSOVER CASTLE ... ... ... ... ... 101

CHAPTER THE TWELFTH.

HARDWICK HALL ,. 108

 

VI. CONTENTS.

CHAPTER THE THIRTEENTH.

OVER THE MOORS ... ... ... ... ... 116

CHAPTER THE FOURTEENTH.

DOWN THE DERWENT ... ... ... ... 125

CHAPTER THE FIFTEENTH.

UP THE WYE ... ... ... ... ... ... 134

CHAPTER THE SIXTEENTH.

TOUR OF THE DOVE ... ... ... ... ... 140

CHAPTER THE SEVENTEENTH.

THE LATHKILL AND BRADFORD BROOK ... ... 153

CHAPTER THE EIGHTEENTH.

HADDON HALL ... ... ... ... ... 158

CHAPTER THE NINETEENTH.

CHATSWORTH... ... ... ... ... ... 167

CHAPTER THE TWENTIETH.

 

RAMBLE IN THE HIGH PEAK... ... ... ... 177

CHAPTER THE TWENTY-FIRST.

A GOSSIP ABOUT BUXTON ... ... ... ... 206

CHAPTER THE TWENTY-SECOND.

DAYS NEAR DERBY ... ... ... ... ... 212

6 A DAY AT CRICH.

0 let us start from Derby not by the way that the
Rebels came to it with Prince Charlie, though that
might lead us through scenery very lovely, to the
old town 'of Ashbourn, to Ham Hall, or Dovedale;
nor the way on which Dr. Samuel Johnson came
thither on horseback to his bridal, though that would
conduct us to his native city of Lichfield, of ancient
fame; nor that on which William Hutton first went from it
to seek or make his fortune in the world, for in less than
ten miles it would set us on the not uninteresting confines
of Nottinghamshire land of Robin Hood and King Lud,
lace and stockings, and many poets. Nor is it needful we
should go by Allestree, though it is not far from the end of
that village that the Peak first breaks on the gaze, over
miles of beautiful country stretching between. But, without
delay, let us get into the train, and save time, in the first
twelve miles or so, by rail.

Towers and spires, and all the mass of many-gabled and
many- windowed buildings of the old borough are fast receding.
Little Chester, once a Roman station, is passed. A glimpse
of the New Cemetery-chapels, and another of the Race-stand,
and then of the Water-works, on the east of the line ; and the

A DAY AT CRICH 7

verdant rise of Derwent Bank, Darley, Allestree, and Burley
on the west ; and anon the glinting spire and smiling homes
of Duffield, are left behind us. The river was crossed before
we came there ; and now by a tunnel of no very great length
we penetrate the first hill; break again into the vale at Milford,
and find the country on all sides growing more picturesque,
as we approach and leave Belper, threading that
thriving town by such a long and many-arched cutting as
to give us not much opportunity of getting even a "hurri-
graph" of it as we move on, a matter of less moment, as
we intend to see it in a different aspect on another excur-
sion. Then, a dash over meadow and mere, through a
region of "pastoral farms, green to the very door," and a
dive through another short tunnel ; and half-an-hour after
leaving Derby, we are set down at Ambergate one of the
principal thresholds to the Dales of the Peak, near where
the little river Amber finds its way into the Derwent.

But, what of all the objects that here catch the eye, is
the strange line of buildings whence issue those columns of
smoke, and down to which comes an inclined plane from the
top of that lofty hill beyond them ? They are lime-kilns,
owing their origin, as we are told, to the famous George
Stephenson; and if you will wait but a few minutes you
may perhaps see a train of wagons, loaded with stone from
Crich Cliff, sliding down that plane with awful velocity, but
so under the control of nicely-adjusted apparatus, worked
by steam, as never to over-shoot the right mark. Once,
by lying head foremost on the top of one of the wagons,
and vigorously clasping a ponderous stone, I was enabled
to descend the steep with that train, as it shot down with
something less than the speed of a thunderbolt. The vale
below has ordinarily a very beautiful appearance from the
hill; and the sensation was, so far as one may fancy, not
unlike that of flying, eagle-fashion, from some lofty eyrie,
into its depths. It was an experience in which the whole

8 DAYS IN DERBYSHIRE.

being became intensified. All the objects in the scene im-
pictured themselves on the sensorium distinctly, it is true,
yet so simultaneously as to leave no time for selection; and
ere any analysis of ideas or emotions could begin, I was
down at the .kilns, glad, as no doubt had been all my pre-
decessors in the experiment, of being safely deposited there.

There is just enough at and around Ambergate Station to
make us eager to proceed as soon as the train for Rowsley is
ready, and by it we go to the first little station in that direc-
tion, which is done in about five minutes catching several
rich glimpses of pasture and stream, high-reaching woodland
and jutting rock, by the way. And now we find ourselves
at What-stand-well Bridge why so called it is so hard to say,
that we are half-disposed to believe the name a corruption of
one with more sense in it: just as the fine, significant name of
the grey old hamlet of Horston, further up the country, has
been corrupted into Harston, then into Hearthstone! Per-
haps, as this is on the estate of the ancient family of Hurt, it
may originally have been Hurt's Stand-well. But we are only
speculating. Pleasantly stands this clean little inn at the end
of the Bridge. Pleasant, too, those upland homes around us.
We commence our ascent to Crich by the eastern road, but
have not gone far before we pause with wonder and delight

From a bridge over the Canal, near the Blacksmith's shop,
we glance to the north, where Lea Hurst, the Derbyshire
home of Florence Nightingale, first steals on the eye. We
turn to the south, which breaks upon us in still greater loveli-
ness and magnificence, as we proceed higher up the road.
Strange, that the guide books have, hitherto, comparatively so
little note of this view from Crich Carr, Chase Cliff, Hollow
Booth, 'and the fir-crowned heights about Heage and Belper,
forming a picturesque boundary to the left ; and Shining Cliff
flinging out its woody luxuriance, and stretching away to close
with them in harmonious perspective, from the right forming
altogether an outline that, in its filling up, has a significance

A DAY AT CRICH. 9

of its kind unrivalled perhaps in all Britain. Come hither,
and read the history of England in five lines ! There sweeps
along the vale, with a beautiful curve, the river Derwent,
just as it flowed in the primeval wildness of the land, ere
the Romans came and disturbed its early inhabitants from
their hunting, fishing and picking of scanty fruitage; and
parallel with it runs the old road, where travelled our Saxon
ancestors from town to town with their bullock-wains and
pack-horses. There, too, flows the Cromford Canal, memo-
rial of the time when England's great genius for engineering
and commerce was as yet scarce half-developed ; and com-
panion to them the Railway, and along with it the Telegraph-
wires, now that genius is ripening, to complete the wondrous
history. How appropriate are the illustrations of this idea
as we ponder on the prospect ! By the river stands that
solitary fisherman, flinging in his line. Yonder, diminished
by distance to about the size of a child's go-cart on the
road, a cart or a wagon is ready to vanish from sight,
while faintly comes into it a boat, gliding along the canal
so slowly that one wonders how it can be worth while for
it to ply at all; just as the train rushes by, and is gone in
an instant, leaving nothing but its dissolving wake of white
steam, and its brief echo among the hills, to tell us it has
been; and along the telegraph-wires, could we but see them,
are probably passing fleet messages touching life and death,
rapid, how infinitely more rapid still !

And surely, as we rise higher and higher, leaving that
scattering of humble cottages and sunny homes behind us, and
near this more patrician mansion, of " Chase Cliffe," the whole
scene grows more and more enchanting at every step. What
a fine foil do those long-drawn parallels form the white turn-
pike, the ironed and gravelled rail, and the two lines of bright
water, all so proximate that you might throw a stone across
them what a fine foil do they form for the rest of the land-
scape : the green slopes and winding drives about Alderwasley

10 DAYS IN DERBYSHIRE.

Hall, the rounded hills, the dun outlines of the distant moors,
the gabled farm-steads, and all the other features of a
painter's paradise!

Let us now turn to the left, on the road striking off from the
neighbourhood of Chase Cliff, along the back of the Carr,
towards Coddington and Crich Cliff. The scene is very
different, but very lovely. Lea Hurst, to the north, is open-
ing in all its beauty little more than a mile before us the
smiling hamlet of Holloway keeping it pleasant company. It
is sweet to see the homes of the poor not far from the mansions
of the rich in such a landscape very sweet to think of them
in connection with the history, the visits, the humane interest
and kindly labours of Florence Nightingale. Well stands her
father's house in the centre of that scene, with wooded hills,
and the deep vale, and green pastures, on every hand. The
most luxuriant landscapes lack interest for the heart, whatever
they may give to the eye, unless touched with signs of the
presence of humanity in its various relations its industrial
endeavours, its moral endurances, its spiritual aspirations, and
loving sympathies ; and nature must ever be most dear when
her fair lineaments are blended with, but not overcrowded by,
the hopeful signs of social life. Yon sunny Hall of Alder-
wasley, to our left, with its park-like pastures, dashed with
rising plantations and fringed with dark old woods, here com-
ing down to the river, and yonder striking up to the very sky,
loses none of its dignity for those outstanding farmsteads that
share "with it the verdant scene. Is the view westward,
towards Round Wood and Masson less picturesque, because
we have all these cottages, and those quarries, and the Cupola
Furnace sending up its curling wreaths of blue smoke, be-
tween? Will this new residence we are just leaving behind
us on the Chase, be less dear to the future tourist, when it
grows old, because of the studied relation between its archi-
tecture and that of several of the little cottages below it?
Certainly not; and hence it is we could linger at Crich Carr

A DAY AT CRICH. 11

the whole day, and long to come again on many a morrow.
But our time is passing, and we must ascend yon tower-
crowned steep, and take advantage of the present sunny hour
and the cloudless sky ; for life itself would be too short to let
us embrace and historicise all that is comprehended in the
space that we shall contemplate there !

And now, after a two-mile's slow walk from What-stand-well
Station, we find ourselves on the top of Crich Stand one of
the most far-seen and conspicuous observatories in England ;
and great portions of the counties of Derby, with its knolls
and peaks; Nottingham and Lincoln, with their woods and
plains; with some of the dim-blue hills of Yorkshire to the
north, and those of Leicestershire and Staffordshire to the
south, are spread around us, not in bewildering confusion,
but at once various and harmonious, magnificent and calm ;
for we have chosen a season suitable to the scene, when
earth and sky unite to make us think of infinity, and to
feel how infinity itself is filled with a Spirit of Love and
Wisdom, that clothes itself everywhere in a vestment of
beauty.

Crich Stand is a round tower, with parapet, and is ascended
inside, by a winding stair. It is on the site of one that was
for some years in ruins. It has a tablet at the top, with the
inscription " This Tower, re-built in 1851, is 955 feet above
the mean level of the sea, according to the Ordnance Survey."
Over the entrance, which is on the west side, is a small tablet
of limestone, from the old building, inscribed "F. H., 1788. "
Underneath is a new one, recording the date of the present
erection. If the name of Crich be a contraction, as I suppose
it, of an old Celtic word, meaning a place of crags, or rocks
like Carig and Carrick, in Ireland it is one of the most
appropriate names that could be. Its having once been spelt
Caruch, and afterwards Cruch rather supports this hypothesis
the ch being articulated like ch in Scotland and gh in Ireland
a sound that has become foreign to the English throat since

12 DAYS IN DERBYSHIRE.

the arrival of the Normans, who could not articulate it, and the
common people having lost it, with much besides, from imi-
tation of the conquerors.

Let us look down and around us, gradually expanding the
sphere of vision. Under us is the cragged and quarried hill,
strangely and picturesquely upheaved by nature, and now
scarcely less strangely and picturesquely diminishing by the
supply of material for those enormous lime-kilns we saw at
the bottom of the inclined plane, near Ambergate. Mr. Adam,
in his " Gem of the Peak," calls it " a conical hill, of no
ordinary interest to the geologist, not only from the rich veins
of ore found in it, but from the fact of its being an isolated
mass of the carboniferous limestone, thrust up and protruded
through all the sandstone and shale measures of late years
proving it to be by far the richest mineral field in the whole
wapentake of Wirksworth, or indeed in the entire Peak of
Derbyshire. This fact (he adds) may perhaps be considered
a proof of the intimate connexion subsisting between the in-
tensity of volcanic action and the formation of mineral veins,
as this cliff exhibits the most striking proofs of those gigantic
forces which have been originally brought into such extensive
operation to break up and elevate the earth's crust. Certainly
nowhere (Mr. Adam concludes) have such rich lodes, as they
are called, of lead been found as in this field, and nowhere are
the strata more strangely disturbed." There is now working, on
the north-east side of the hill, a lead mine in which are men,
with bodies and souls as precious as our own precious not
only to themselves, but to the women and children who smiled
at us from their cottage doors as we came along toiling at a
depth of 270 yards ; and no less than six have been killed
there during the last three years. Poor Jim Spencer was one :
I knew him ; he was on a visit to me in Derby but a day or
two before ; and a better lad, or one more kindly, never trod
the hills. He lost his own life, I believe, in trying to save
another's.

A DAY AT CRICH. 13

This Hill or Cliff, as from its steepness on one side it is
more commonly called has, with its observatory, "the Stand,"
many touches of interest, independent of its mere altitude and
geology. As a gauge, by comparison, for the size and distance
of other objects; as something specific whereon the eye of the
traveller may rest as he descends from the western hills or
approaches from the eastern plains ; and more recently as the
occasional scene of popular gatherings, it has an extensive
fame. I was upon it when peace was celebrated, after the
close of the war with Russia, in the month of June, 1856.
The weather was delightful ; the assemblage of people was
both numerous and joyful; and with plenty of refreshments,
some good bands of music, patriotic and philanthropic ad-
dresses, and various reasonable and seasonable amusements, it
was an occasion to be pleasantly remembered for many a year.
A large telescope, through which a peep at Lincoln Cathedral
might be purchased for a penny, was in great request ; and
when the sun went down in glory, it did not leave the land-
scape altogether in darkness : for the moon shone full and
clear ; rockets ascended far and fast into the heavens ; large
beacon-fires, lit on each side of the Stand, were answered by
other fires from distant places; the great iron furnaces at
Butterley and elsewhere in that direction belched up their
volcanic flames ; and thus was the night beguiled of half its
attributes, until many who had been loth to leave a scene so
animating began to

" See to-morrow in the marbled skies."

But lo ! the sun is westering, and we must not fail to take
advantage of the favourable view his descent will give us of
objects which but a few hours ago were lost in excess of light.
Turning our faces towards the east, how primitive and quaint
looks the little town on our right, with its venerable church
and tapering spire all beneath us, and clustering or straggling
homes, with their roofs so old and grey that they seem almost
as much a part of the natural scene as the rocks and trees.

14 DAYS IN DERBYSHIRE.

Very ancient is the town of Crich, and so little changed by
modern influences, that one might almost think it a sort of
social petrifaction. Yet there is something about the old
place one likes to see; and it has been the home of many
bright-thoughted, warm-hearted, worthy people. Sacred be
their memories, and long may their names and genial virtues
be kept in mind, by native writers like the author of " The
Village Feast."

Primitive, too, looks the little belt of country in the fore-
ground. True, the grass of those pastures is very fresh and
green ; but the walls that separate the fields are old and grey.
Grey also is the hamlet of Park Head more distant, as is nearly
every isolated cottage that dots the intermediate view. But,
more venerable and hoary than all besides, are the ruined
towers and turrets of Wingfield Manor, peering out from the
dark trees somewhat less than two miles off, and adding
greatly to the quiet charm of antiquity that characterizes the
whole scene.

What a different aspect has the range of country just be-
yond, where the land of lime and lead is lost to view in that of
coal and iron where anciently ran the Roman Road, on
which pranced the legions of the Caesars in their military
pride, but where now runs the great North Midland Railway,
along which is tearing that fiery horse with the white-flowing
mane, drawing its long, long train of the chariots of commerce
the Bucephalus of Peace ! Hark ! do you not hear it, at
one moment leaving Ambergate, and crossing the end of
Buckland Hollow the vale where, in days of old, browsed
undisturbed the wild buck and then next breaking into view
from behind the ruins of Whinfield Manor, that relic of the
stirring times of Oliver Cromwell, and near to where occurred
the more recent operations of Oliver the Spy ? And now
again it hides itself, where Clay Cross spire gleams up like
a starting rocket from the dusky mass of mineral industry
that has suddenly made a large town of what in the days

A DAY AT CRICH. 15

of our boyhood was one of the smallest hamlets in the coun-
try ! The whole landscape abounds with historical meaning.
Winding rivulets, little remnants of moorland that have never
known spade or plough, bits of woodland in the hollows that
man never planted and that his axe has but little altered,
and many another sign of nature's sylvan reign, again recal
to our minds the aboriginal races. We have already touched
on one important testimony to Rome's imperial sway. Yon
ironworks conjure back the Danes, whose occupation, there
is reason to believe, was in such labours there. Alfreton
Hall, white-gleaming, conspicuous to the eye, reminds us of
King Alfred

" That Oak o'er all the trees
That Alp among the hills of History,"

from whom the town hard by is said to take its name. South
Normanton beyond, tells us by its name that it was founded
by the conquerors who came with William of Normandy ;
while the dark outline of country on the horizon, where once
flourished Sherwood Forest, tells tales alike to the memory
and the imagination of Robin Hood and his times.

Nor is this all. The ages of ancient piety, as well as of
remorse for tyranny, bloodshed and plunder, and of subse-
quent devotional enthusiasm, are severally recorded by I
was almost ready to say, numberless churches, including
that which looks down on the spot where I was born. In
some places they nestle half out of sight amongst umbrage-
ous trees, in lowly vales. Others have, to use a figure of
my poetical friend, Crofts,

" Their foundations on the hills,
And their summits in the skies,"

darkling or gleaming to the remotest ken, and not inaptly
closing, if a good telescope be employed, with a sight of
Lincoln Cathedral "beyond the horizon's verge."

Chivalry, patriotism, and old English hospitality, too, have
magnificent monuments here. Whinfield Manor so near, and

16 DAYS IN DERBYSHIRE.

Bolsover Castle afar, with the famous hunting palaces of
Hardwick side by side one in ruins, the other, though three
centuries old, comparatively new between !

And now we have only to turn a little southward to com-
plete the history. Where stretches along the landscape yon
far line of smoke is the Erewash Valley, in which, and for
miles on this side of it, as near as Oakerthorpe, are various
works of the Butterley Iron Company and many other en-
terprising firms, sending coals to most parts of England, and
iron to all parts of the world. Beyond that line beyond
where the wooded hills of Bramcote give their dark and pic-
turesque dash to the fading scene is a still lighter streak
of smoke, stealing up from the town of Nottingham, of the
suburbs of which, at least, slight glimpses may be caught.
But linger not there too long ; turn more southward still ; let
your eye start again from the deep quarry and the old town
beneath us; while all that stretches thence to the blue hills of
Charnwood Forest is mapped in due order on your mind.

How distinct, and how green in comparison with the
scenery on each side, narrowing to a point, as if Nature in
her geometry had resolved on placing it in an exact triangle,
extends the table-land of Crich Chase, so formed by the
converging vales of the Derwent and Amber. We look be-
yond, and commencing at three miles, or thereabouts, from
where those vales are wed, the sight is arrested by a growing
town and its tall church-tower large factories and their taller
chimneys and all that bespeaks the throbbing and restless
pulse of a manufacturing population. That town is Belper,
with Milford retreating beyond it, where pastoral life smiles
down from the hills on trade, and the blessing of steady
and increasing productiveness is awarded to both.

But we gaze some seven or eight miles farther still, where
" dim in the distance blue," yet considerably more extensive
and not unpicturesque, stands our old town of Derby, the
noble tower of All Saints rising finely from the maze of minor

A DAY AT CRICH. 17

buildings, and St. Alkmund's spire, with many other favour-
ite objects, being distinguishable by their familiar outlines,
especially if it should be on some holiday, when there is
no smoke from the factory chimneys. Nor does our pros-
pect close at Derby : its horizon in that direction is sufficiently
far off, in Staffordshire and Leicestershire, to make the tower
of All Saints a central object in the picture. Perhaps one of
the greatest advantages on Crich Cliff, in addition to clear
weather, is a powerful telescope. It not only enlarges the
sphere of vision, but multiplies the number of objects and
enables us to gossip with them, as it were, friend with friend.
There is a joke which neither you nor I will easily believe,
about a rustic asking if it would bring Lincoln Cathedral so
near as to enable him to " hear Great Tom strike twelve ; "
but considering how familiar it makes one of the senses with
objects so remote, the others might certainly be forgiven if
wishing for some small share of the enjoyment.

So thinking, we turn lastly to the glowing west, where
nature grows heavenlike in the track of departing day. The
east and south have become shaded with a deeper hue, and
anon will fade from blue to misty grey, until the objects we
were just contemplating grow dim and undefinable ; while
west and north-west for it is in the month of May the
mountains will rise one by one more grandly and solemnly
to view, in the last golden flushes of evening light :

" *Tis evening brings the distant hills more near."

The trill of the lingering lark falls sweetly into our souls from
above, as the wild dove's lullaby and the cuckoo's good-bye
come responsively up from the woods below. The undertone
of the rushing Derwent furnishes a fitting bass to the breeze's
tenor and the lark's light treble ; and all nature seems to join
the evening hymn.

" The moon is up, and yet it is not night ;"
Sunset hath still a large share both of sky and land ; and

18 DAYS IN DERBYSHIRE.

while the valley below is losing its lineaments in the deepening
shadows, there is a rich remnant of light still dwelling over
Alderwasley and Wirksworth Moor, and the country thence
stretching away towards the hills that look down on the dis-
tant Dove.

Yet more beautiful even than this, and of far greater extent,
is the view outstretching a little more to our right. Over
Oxhay Wood, are Lea Hurst and Holloway, Lea Wood, the
Coombs, and, still more north, Darley Dale and Tansley Moor,
on which Masson, crowned with its dark fir-trees, looks some-
what proudly down, the monarch of them all. And as we
gaze farther still, and farther, far as the eye can reach, along
the line of the winding vale, to where it commences near the
sources of the Derwent, on each side we see mountains
beyond mountains intersect each other, not in confusion, but
with that geometrical exactitude and harmony bespeaking
everywhere Omniscient Design.

And what a heaven of splendour throws its canopy over
all! From violet to vermilion, tint deepens into tint, hue
gives place to hue, till, not in fancy but literally, from the
zenith to the horizon, the sky " forms one vast iris ; " and the
earth beneath, and its rising mists, are softly touched with a
sympathetic glow.

Such is the expanse : but has it had its due effect upon our
immortal spirits ? As we descend the hill which thus stands
between the beautiful realms of the bygone day and the
morrow the stars gleaming out one by one above, the scat-
tered fires of the eastern coal field growing bright below the
last crimson belt of twilight still hemming the far west the
moon gliding serenely through the southern sky, and those
two planets, companions of her reign, hung down like burning
lamps from heaven does no sense of the miracle of our ex-
istence, and of the wisdom and bounty of the Great Creator,
take possession of our heart ? How wonderful that we can
carry away in our little souls such a magnificent spectacle,

A DAY AT CRICH 19

embracing as it does an area of so many thousand miles,
yet occupying within us no perceptible space at all! Why,
now we have comprehended it, does it not disturb or dis-
place our previous knowledge of things? Why does it not
overlay and obscure our former memories ? Why does it
confer more beauty and joy, instead of oblivion, on all we
ever enjoyed before ? soul ! thou wondrous reflex of the
Great Being who comprehends all things, and knows all
their relations and uses and harmonies ! As thou didst
gaze on the external landscape in the light of Nature's sun,
look now upon all its imagery, thus transferred to thee, in
the light of Truth Divine : then shalt thou, if meek, be
taught in all its meaning and these charms shall aid thy
eternal health !

For the present we bid Crich Cliff farewell !

 

the

 

GOING TO MATLOCK BATH.

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