initial commit of ebook 35193HEADmain

1 files changed, 2104 insertions, 0 deletions

diff --git a/35193.txt b/35193.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..70ac9f5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/35193.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,2104 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Season at Harrogate, by Barbara Hofland
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: A Season at Harrogate
+
+Author: Barbara Hofland
+
+Release Date: February 7, 2011 [EBook #35193]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A SEASON AT HARROGATE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Edwards, Ross Cooling and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Canada Team at
+http://www.pgdpcanada.net (This file was produced from
+images generously made available by The Internet
+Archive/Canadian Libraries)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+  A
+
+  SEASON
+
+  AT
+
+  HARROGATE;
+
+  IN A
+
+  SERIES OF POETICAL EPISTLES,
+
+  FROM
+
+  _Benjamin Blunderhead, Esquire, to his Mother_,
+
+  IN DERBYSHIRE:
+
+  With useful and copious NOTES, descriptive of the Objects most worthy of
+  Attention in the Vicinity of Harrogate.
+
+         *     *     *     *     *
+
+  Laugh where we must, be candid where we can.
+
+  Pope.
+
+         *     *     *     *     *
+
+  Knaresbrough:
+
+  _PRINTED BY G. WILSON,_
+
+  AND SOLD BY
+
+  R. WILSON, KNARESBROUGH, AND HARROGATE;
+
+  Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, and Brown, Paternoster Row, London;
+  Robinson, Heaton, I. & I. Nicholls, and Baines, Leeds; Wolstenholme, and
+  Todd, York; Hunsley and Thomas, Doncaster; Langdale, Rippon; Edwards,
+  Halifax; Miss Gales, Sheffield; and Wright, Liverpool.
+
+  1812.
+
+
+
+
+  Entered at Stationers' Hall.
+
+
+
+
+  ADVERTISEMENT.
+
+
+That admirable production of Mr. Anstey's the "New Bath Guide," may
+justly be considered the parent of a numerous progeny of watering place
+bagatelles, each of which has some resemblance to its father, though not
+one of them can boast the wit, humour, or poetical talent which so
+eminently distinguishes those celebrated letters.
+
+The youngest of this race is now presented to the Public with that
+timidity which arises from conscious imperfection, devoid of the fear
+which rivalry has endeavoured to excite, and persecution may seek to
+perpetuate. Neither nurtured by patronage nor dandled by fashion,
+neither supported by rank nor allied to literary honours, this child of
+obscurity is cast on the world in a helpless, yet not hopeless state,
+for the good man's smile has illumed its cradle, and it possesses that
+confidence derived from purity of intention, and that humility which
+disarms malice, and draws the sting of criticism.
+
+  B. HOFLAND.
+
+  _High Harrogate_,
+
+  _December 1, 1811._
+
+
+
+
+  LETTER I.
+
+  To Mrs. Blunderhead,
+
+  _Low Harrogate, July 20th_.
+
+  'Tis now forty years and dear mother _you_ know it,
+  Since my great Uncle[1] Simkin set up for a poet,
+  And I'll venture to say that not one in the nation,
+  From that day to this caus'd so much admiration,
+  But tho' I ne'er hope on his humour to hit,
+  Much less catch his genius or glow with his wit,
+  Or blend with simplicity satire so keen,
+  That it laugh'd away sin, while it laugh'd away spleen,
+  Yet since there are many more folks in _our_ times,
+  Than were found about _his_, who make verses and rhymes,
+  I don't see a reason why I should not try,
+  To spread my poor fins and to swim with the fry,
+  You know Drewry of Derby would never refuse,
+  My sonnets, and stanzas, a place in the news,
+  Besides a great name's a great matter we know,
+  James Thompson our schoolmaster always said so,
+  And thought it the best of a hundred good reasons,
+  Why he should write verses as fine as 'The Seasons'
+  Now I being last of the Blunderhead race,
+  As a casuist this doctrine most warmly embrace,
+  And hope my dear mother the parson and you,
+  Whilst conning my letters will give me my due,
+  And say to reward all my labour and pains,
+  He is just like his uncle _save wanting his brains_.
+  But a truce to this subject of grave declamation,
+  My spirit's not suited to sage dissertation,
+  To anatomists leaving the state of my skull,
+  To critics their right of pronouncing me dull,
+  I shall merely go on with my gossiping rhyme,
+  To tell you my method of killing my time,
+  And open as well as I can all the merit,
+  This place of resort is allow'd to inherit.      32
+
+    When first I arriv'd here I didn't well know,
+  If at Harrogate High, or at Harrogate Low,
+  I should place myself snugly, but after some chatter,
+  With those who were knowing, I fix'd on the latter
+  So now my good madam behold me sat down,
+  With a number of invalid folks at the Crown,
+  But what way _invalid_ to unfold I'm not able,
+  Unless 'tis with cramming at Thackwray's good table,
+  Who with turbot, and ven'son, and poultry, and beef,
+  To the sick with their hunger gives instant relief,
+  But as to the crop-sick I very much question,
+  If here they find help for diseas'd indigestion,
+  The sight of these good things to me was unpleasant,
+  For you know I am ticklish and qualmish at present
+  But the Company laugh and declare I shall soon eat,
+  Three pounds of good food, tho' I now live on spoonmeat,
+  And in order to bring me about very quickly,
+  Some good looking dames neither sighing nor sickly,
+  Advis'd me most kindly the very first night,
+  To consult with a doctor as soon as 'twas light,
+  Then take of the water a plentiful dose,
+  Said they "the well's nigh" so I find by my nose,
+  "But pray gentle ladies declare in a trice,
+  "The doctor of whom I must ask this advice?"      56
+
+    This question once put t'would surprise you dear mother,
+  How they answer'd at once each more loud than the other,
+  "There's not one of them all that my fancy so takes"
+  "Cried a lady in black" "as my good Doctor Jaques,"
+  Says the next "Mr. Richardson's wonderful clever,
+  Tho' so busy dear heart there's no catching him ever,"
+  Cries a third "if you really want medical skill,
+  Mr. Wormald will cure you if any man will,"
+  "And I know" "said a fourth" "that whatever may ail ye,
+  "You're sure of relief if you see Doctor Cayley."
+
+    Afraid of offending each charming adviser,
+  By a pref'rence that said "ma'am your neighbour is wiser,"
+  I obey'd the loud mandate of Gen'ral O'Flurry,
+  And this morning consulted with one Doctor Murray
+  Who sans ruffles, sans wig, and sans avis supercilious,
+  Has pronounc'd on my case and declares I am bilious,
+  In my next dearest mother some news I will tell,
+  Of these wonderful waters when drank at the well
+  So wishing you ne'er may have need of such liquor
+  Conclude me yours truly--with love to the vicar.
+
+                                     &c. &c. &c.
+
+[Footnote 1: Simkin Bl--nd--rh----d Esq. Author of the New Bath Guide.]
+
+
+
+
+  LETTER II.
+
+  _Low Harrogate, July 24th._
+
+
+  Oh! how my dear mother shall pen, ink, and paper
+  Convey to your mind a true sense of the vapour,
+  Which hov'ring around this new Acheron serves,
+  To torture and wound your olfactory nerves,
+  And gives you presentiment piercing and strong,
+  Of its pungent effects when receiv'd on the tongue.
+
+    Of rotten eggs, brimstone, and salts make a hash,
+  And 'twill form something like this delectable mash
+  Nothing else in this world I will wager a pasty,
+  So good in effect, ever tasted so nasty.
+  But ah! tis the pencil of Bunb'ry alone,
+  By which the sweet stream and its pow'rs can be shewn,
+  Nor does the whole kingdom afford I am sure,
+  One scene like this well for a caricature,
+  All ages, and sexes, all ranks, and degree,
+  All forms, and all sizes distorted you see,
+  Some grinning, some splutt'ring, some pulling wry faces,
+  In short 'tis a mart for all sorts of grimaces,
+  But all you conceive, of age, infancy, youth,
+  In contortion and whim must fall short of the truth,
+  One screws up his lips like the mouth of a purse,
+  While his neighbour's fierce grin gives the threat of a curse,
+  And a third gasping begs with his eyes turn'd to heaven,
+  That his stomach will keep what so lately was given
+  But feeling the rebel will spurn at his pray'r,
+  Throws the rest of his bumper away in despair.
+  But woe to the wight of more delicate notions,
+  When he sees how the well-women deal out their potions,
+  This levelling tribe of a democrat race,
+  From the red nos'd postillion, up to her Grace
+  Feeds each from one glass, without washing, or rincing,
+  And the sybil but laughs if you make any wincing,
+  From the modest who issue from cheap Mrs. Binns'
+  To the great ones who drive from High Harrogate Inns,
+  Where a difference far more essential is found,
+  From the sick, to the well, the same cup travels round,
+  From breath that would poison a Hottentot king
+  To breath that is sweeter than violets in spring,
+  But as sulphur prohibits all sorts of infection,
+  The rational say "there's no proper objection,      116
+  To mingling _en masse_ with all sorts of diseases,
+  Tho' the stomach may make what objection she pleases."
+
+    Now turn my dear mother with me and survey
+  This company blended of grave and of gay,
+  See Alderman Gobble, and Counsellor Puffing,
+  Who came to this well as a penance for stuffing,
+  And poor Captain Brandylove come to recruit,
+  Swears the Cognac grape was the forbidden fruit,
+  Here gentlemen jockies who ride into fevers,
+  And surfeits obtain from their noble endeavours,
+  Such as Timothy Twig'em Esquire of our town,
+  And my Lord Spatterdashit that peer of renown,
+  And Sir Gilbert O'Fetlock with coach driving coat,
+  With many more whips of distinction and note,
+  Come swarming around just to take off their glasses,
+  Make matches for horses, and bets upon asses.
+
+    But here come a group whose deplorable faces,
+  E'en surfeit itself would illumine with graces,
+  See poor Major Liverless come from Bombay,
+  To send his sharp bile and black jaundice away,
+  And gripe the contractor, who ruin'd his health,
+  While he sold (silly booby) his conscience for wealth
+  For Escarides every physician will tell,
+  There's no med'cine on earth like the Harrogate well,
+  But the worm which gnaws gripe will ne'er yield to its mixture,
+  'Tis lodg'd in the heart an indelible fixture,
+  But truce to my preaching--who makes his approach
+  In such dashing array, and so splendid a coach?
+  'Tis the great Doctor Solomon stooping to take,
+  A dose of this water by way of a freak,      148
+  Tho' all the world knows that his own balmy bottle,
+  (More warm to the heart and more sweet to the throttle)
+  Not only cures patients but makes 'em so merry,
+  One spoonful is worth a whole bottle of sherry.
+
+    All hail to Britannia! her plentiful hive,
+  Has taught many bees like this doctor to thrive,
+  But from all I can learn not one quack shares her honey,
+  More deserving than this, since he's free with his money,
+  "Easy come easy go" is his motto I'm told,
+  Tho' his daughters are portion'd with ingots of gold
+  But I scorn upon men any more to descant,
+  For the Blunderheads always were very gallant,
+  And if beauty and fashion e'er claim'd admiration,
+  From the heart of a man since the days of creation,
+  I'm sure at this time there's the very best reason,
+  To exult in the beauty that blooms here this season,
+  E'en now on parade I delighted behold,
+  Five elegant sisters of exquisite mould,
+  There too are the C--tt--rs sweet innocent creatures,
+  With peace in their bosoms and love in their features
+  And the beautiful L--nds and the L--kes too appear
+  Like goddesses dropt from a delicate sphere;
+  Yet mid the assemblage M--cd--nald we trace,
+  No charmer that equals thy form or thy face,
+  Tho' W--m--ld such majesty dwells in thy mien,
+  And in W--ts--n's mild eyes such true sweetness is seen,
+  That really my muse is perplex'd to declare,
+  How one can excel where so many are fair,
+  Oh woman! _dear_ woman! without you all nature,
+  Would be to my mind like a draught of this water,
+  And may he whose cold heart and dull head would disprove,
+  The magic of beauty the solace of love,
+  And seek from rude man your soft claims to dissever,
+  Be condemn'd without mercy to drink it for ever,
+  Ye are stars of the night! ye are gems of the morn!
+  Ye are dew-drops whose lustre illumines the thorn!
+  And rayless that night is--that morning unblest,
+  Where no beam in your eye lights up bliss in the breast,
+  And the sharp thorn of sorrow sinks deep in the heart
+  Till the sweet lip of woman assuages the smart,
+  'Tis her's o'er the couch of misfortune to bend,
+  In fondness a lover, in firmness a friend,
+  And prosperity's hour be it ever confest,
+  From woman receives both refinement and zest,
+  And adorn'd by the bays or enwreath'd with the willow
+  Her smile is our meed, and her bosom our pillow.
+  But ah! my good mother this subject I find,
+  Has quite run away with my paper and mind,
+  For in themes so bewitching so many thoughts pop in
+  The mania of scribbling finds no place to stop in,
+  But in praising the ladies you can't think me rude,
+  So adieu till my next--'tis high time to conclude.
+
+                                     &c. &c. &c.
+
+
+
+
+  LETTER III.
+
+  _Low Harrogate, July 30th._
+
+
+  With pleasure dear mother commence I this letter
+  To tell you already I find myself better,
+  To the praise of the well be it known I am able,
+  To pick up my crumbs with the best at the table,
+  And now think the landlord a very wise man,
+  For placing thereon all the dishes he can,
+  No longer fastidious or squeamish or dainty,
+  I like all I see and rejoice that there's plenty,
+  But since I wrote last by my doctor's prescription,
+  I've had a warm bath of which take my description
+  Fair Derwent how oft in thy pure limpid wave,
+  Delighted I lov'd in full freedom to lave,
+  While on thy green banks in soft herbage reposing,
+  The swains and their flocks, were contentedly dosing
+  And the landscape around, and above the blue sky
+  Shed new life on the heart while they solac'd the eye
+  Little thought I in those days so sunny and smiling,
+  What a different thing was a Harrogate boiling,
+  And astonish'd I saw when I came to my doffing[2],
+  A tub of hot water made just like a coffin,
+  In which the good woman who tended the bath,
+  Declar'd I must lie down as straight as a lath,
+  Just keeping my face above water that so,
+  I might better inhale the fine fume from below,
+  "But mistress," 'quoth I in a trembling condition,'
+  "I hope you'll allow me one small requisition,
+  Since scrophula, leprosy, herpes, and scurvy,
+  Have all in this coffin been roll'd topsy-turvy,      232
+  In a physical sense I presume it is meet,
+  That each guest should be wrapt in a clean winding sheet,"
+  "Oh no! my good sir for whatever's your case,
+  You can never catch any thing bad in this place,
+  And that being settled on solid foundation,
+  We Harrogate bath-women spurn innovation."
+  So caviller like I submitted to pow'r,
+  And was coddled in troth for the third of an hour.
+  But that very same night to atone for it all,
+  I figur'd away the first man at the ball,
+  For the president being both idle and lusty,
+  Conceiv'd that his pow'rs "a la danse" were grown rusty,
+  And consign'd all his rights in this gay exhibition,
+  To myself as a man of more able condition,
+  But oh! how it griev'd me dear mother to find,
+  So very few beaux were to dancing inclin'd;
+  Constellations of beauty all night shone in vain,
+  Condemn'd as fix'd stars unremov'd to remain,
+  Whose influence benignant ne'er reach'd from their sphere,
+  To warm the cold heels of the gentlemen here,
+  Captain--r--r consider'd a man of high ton,
+  All dancing declin'd till the ball was just done,
+  And then he made shift just to drawl on his legs,
+  As a lame Chelsea pensioner does when he begs,
+  But in spite of his ennui and indolent air
+  He dances _divinely_ the ladies declare.      258
+  Of these tho' a great many caper'd away,
+  Yet many sat still who were lovely as they,
+  Fair F--z--r was there, and the beautiful P--k--r
+  With the elegant H--tt--n as lovely tho' darker,
+  The gay A--x--nd--r and R--g--rs the pretty,
+  And M--w--r the graceful, and B--ley the witty.
+  Some came from the Granby and some from the Dragon,
+  But these are all belles that our own house may brag on,
+  For at present the Crown is much fuller than any,
+  Tho' the Inns at High Harrogate boast a good many
+  The Crescent our neighbour is full to o'erflowing,
+  And numbers I see to the White Hart are going.
+  As bad as the times are John Bull makes a shift,
+  To give the gay world an effectual lift,
+  And so long as these places can live by their trading
+  We may smile at Napoleon's threats of invading.
+
+    The place of all places for lounging away,
+  In amusement and style the first half of the day,
+  Is at each of the Libraries[3]; where you may find,
+  Books, music, fine prints, in short all things combin'd,
+  Which those who have taste are delighted to cherish
+  And those who have none yet affect much to relish,
+  Politicians, and ladies, bucks, authors, and peers,
+  The busy all eyes, and the idle all ears,      284
+  May here every morning be seen in perfection,
+  Like the books, or the news, just laid out for inspection,
+  So to Wilson's I go every morning inquiring,
+  "What arrivals there are?"----and the papers desiring,
+  And look with a deep and significant phiz,
+  For Peninsula news, or a boxing match quiz,
+  Nay at times I converse on a poem or play,
+  And utter no less 'cause I've nothing to say,
+  Rememb'ring in all kinds of difficult cases,
+  To make out my meaning by shrugs and grimaces,
+  Thus a man without reading may give an opinion,
+  And snatch for an hour dilletanti dominion,
+  From what sources great critics may judge I can't tell
+  But I always find mine are produc'd at the well,
+  When my breakfast eats good and the waters agree
+  Capel Loft's sugar-candy's not sweeter than me,
+  This morning I dazzled the minds of the crowd,
+  By pronouncing Lord Byron "a poet" aloud,
+  Of Strangford and Moore then condemned the sweet flummery,
+  Talk'd of Southey the chaste, and the matchless Montgomery,
+  Call'd Campbell the elegant, Wordsworth the wild
+  And the great Walter Scott Inspiration's own child;
+  Then prais'd the sweet bard tho' unknown be his name,
+  Who gave Talavera's dread battles to fame,
+  Thus 'mongst reading-room gents I set up for a judge,
+  And an eulogist too (when the waters will budge)
+  But if on my stomach they happen to rest,
+  With such critical spleen is my humour opprest,
+  Whether minister, gen'ral, or author I seize on,
+  Be assur'd that I charge him at least with high-treason,
+  And it then would surprise ye to hear me debate,
+  On the faults of the war and the crimes of the state,
+  On wonderful plans for complete reformation,
+  And fearful predictions for folks of high station,
+  Then too the grand censor on writers I sit,
+  And fulminate laws 'gainst pretenders to wit,      320
+  Or deeply regret these degenerate times,
+  Produce prose without sense, without poetry rhymes
+  Step on to consider the faults of the stage
+  And conclude there's not one decent thing in the age.
+  Thus as sung my great uncle "our evil, and good,
+  "By few is conceiv'd, and by few understood,"
+  If unwisely we praise, or unfeelingly blame
+  Now shudd'ring with ague, now burning with flame,
+  Tho' ignorance gener'lly causes this fault,
+  Yet _here_ 'tis the mixture of sulphur and salt
+  Which nine times in ten will improve on our nature
+  As it clears a complexion or softens a feature,
+  And that without doubt you'll allow is the reason,
+  Why so many matches are made here each season,
+  And who knows dear ma'am but this wonderful water
+  May gain me a sweet wife and yourself a dear daughter?
+  And at Robey's likewise ev'ry morning I'm shown
+  Since not to know _him_, would prove I was unknown
+  Banker, Jeweller, Friseur, and Toyman, his trade is
+  He's all things for the beaux and still more for the ladies,
+  But no wonder they like him so much in this place,
+  For good temper and honesty dwell in his face,
+  And his shop is so stor'd with all things that are pretty,
+  He has skimm'd the first cream from Pall Mall and the city.
+  But from pictures of lounges I'll now give you rest,
+  For the dinner bell rings and I am not half drest.
+
+                                   &c. &c. &c.
+
+[Footnote 2: Doffing, undressing, _vide_ Johnson--a word much used in
+Derbyshire.]
+
+[Footnote 3: Wilson's, and Hargroves.]
+
+
+
+
+  LETTER IV.
+
+  _Rippon, August 5th._
+
+
+  Since I wrote to you last my dear mother I've been
+  To see all the lions which are to be seen
+  Around this gay place--where 'tis much in the fashion,
+  Small parties to form for this sweet recreation,
+  So we lately set out on a very fine day,
+  Our respects to the beauties of Knaresbro' to pay,      342
+  But a painter alone to your eye can disclose,
+  A view of the scene as before us it rose,
+  Presenting a coup d'oeil so simple and sweet,
+  Yet so grand, so sublime, and in fact so complete,
+  That I fancied the river as winding around,
+  Was enclosing the spot as if consecrate ground
+  And this castle crown'd scene will ne'er rise to my mind,
+  Without claiming a sigh that I've left it behind,
+  Thro' a beautiful grove we were led to be shewn,
+  The fam'd Dropping-Well which turns all things to stone,
+  Yet in silver ton'd tinkling the Naiad departs,
+  Like ladies whose tears only harden their hearts.
+  From thence to the cell[4] of a saint we ascended,
+  By sage antiquarians most highly commended,
+  Then climb'd to the Fort where an honest old pair,
+  Would give you more pleasure than any thing there
+  Tho' their mutual labours have spread o'er the soil,
+  Astonishing proofs of their patience and toil.
+  We trac'd the bold ruins still proudly sublime,
+  Which yielding to man have found mercy from time,
+  And adorn the sweet scenes they were rais'd to protect,
+  With picturesque beauty more fine from defect;
+  Delighted to find wheresoever we roved
+  "His[5] Honour of Scriven" revered and beloved
+  As e'er his forefathers have been in those ages,
+  When the smile of the lord was more priz'd than his wages,
+  When the sire of the land in the heart of each vassal
+  Found a bulwark more strong than the walls of his castle----
+  From Knaresbro' to Plumpton our party proceeded
+  A spot that no trav'ller should pass by unheeded,      374
+  'Tis a miniature landscape redeem'd from the waste
+  As a species of show-box by nature and taste,
+  Of small rocks and small groves and a pretty small lake,
+  Where small parties aquatic excursions may take,
+  And fancy they view in perspective the shores,
+  Where Loch Lomond smiles or Geneva deplores.--
+  So well my first jaunt had agreed with my mood,
+  That I went to see Harewood the first day I cou'd,      380
+  But here my description must certainly fail as,
+  I have not one talent for painting a palace,
+  But to draw the proud mansion and bring it to view
+  Will surely dear mother be needless to you,
+  Since at Chatsworth we Derbyshire folks have all been,
+  You will judge I am certain of all that I mean,
+  When I tell you groves, gardens, fine water, and hall,
+  Seem the gift of good Genii to spangle this ball.
+
+    To Studley far-fam'd for its beauty we went      389
+  And gaz'd on those beauties with placid content,
+  Tho' some of the amateurs fancied that art,
+  In planning these grounds had o'er acted her part,
+  But who hallow'd Fountains thy threshold shall pass
+  And remember the ponds with their trimmings of grass?
+  No! rapt in the scene which presents contemplation,
+  Such objects of interest and deep veneration,
+  We gaze on the arch whence the ivy descending,
+  Usurps the rich shrine where the lamp was once pending,
+  Where the wild currant blooms and the mountain ash bows,
+  There knelt the great abbot and offer'd his vows,      400
+  And where the green beech his proud branches displays
+  Sweet incense ascended with anthems of praise.
+
+    Oh visions of old as around me ye roll!
+  Exalting, delighting, ennobling the soul,
+  Impress on my mem'ry if not on my rhyme
+  The pleasure I took in these scenes at the time,
+  For sure 'twas a pity that feelings so fine
+  Should evap'rate the moment we set off to dine,
+  Reducing at once the fine flights of the brain,
+  To the vulgar subjection of hunger, and pain,
+  Unlike to those heroes we read of in books,
+  Who living on sentiment scorn meat and cooks,
+  Fight, conquer, make love to a princess, and win her,
+  Without ever asking the aid of a dinner,
+  And heroines we see thro' five volumes can go,
+  Immers'd in all sorts of distraction and woe,
+  Without wetting their lips, thus bestowing the lie,
+  On the proverb which says that "true sorrow is dry."
+  But be that their affair 'twas no part of our plan,
+  For our beaux grew voracious, our ladies look'd wan
+  So we set off for Rippon with stomachs so hearty,
+  'Twas well Mrs. Robinson knew of the party,
+  She gave us a treat which so gladden'd our sight,
+  That we quickly determin'd to stay here all night
+  So I thought it was best just to empty my head,
+  Of its "perilous stuff" ere I ventur'd to bed,
+  Lest the walk I have taken with gazing and peeping
+  Should injure my nerves and prevent me from sleeping,
+  And conceiving a nap is a sound acquisition,
+  Have sought it (like many) by long composition.
+
+                                     &c. &c. &c.
+
+[Footnote 4: Saint Robert's Chapel.]
+
+[Footnote 5: Sir Thomas Slingsby, commonly styled "His Honour" by the
+peasantry in his neighbourhood.]
+
+
+
+
+  LETTER V.
+
+  _Rippon, August 6th._
+
+
+  As soon as Aurora came sun-rob'd and flaunting,
+  Our party arose to continue their jaunting,
+  But think not our hurry to run after pleasure,
+  Could make us forget a good breakfast to treasure,
+  Tho' we talk'd of fine colouring, site and vertu,
+  Yet we gave the hot rolls and the muffins their due;
+  And even those misses, "who died to be moving,"
+  Bare martyrdom well while the toast they were proving;
+  Our wisdom and foretl ought admit no denial,
+  Since our strength was about to experience a trial;
+  For a medical work in the very first chapter,
+  Declares that "exhaustion arises from rapture,"
+  And that 'vessels well laden may prove the occasion,
+  Of giving the head a complete gravitation,'      444
+  Ye Naiads and Wood-nymphs, ye Sylphs, and ye Gnomes,
+  Who flirt on the sun-beams, or languish in tombs,
+  Who skim o'er the foam on the flow'r wave your pinion,
+  The brilliant machinery of pages Darwinian.
+  Oh would that your legions so tiny and taper,
+  Would light on my pen and illumine my paper;
+  Oh then might I sing lovely Hackfall thy praises,
+  And paint all the beauties I found in thy mazes,
+  Those mazes where nature and art have combin'd,
+  To spread all the charms they together could find.
+  'Tis fairy land all, yet majestic and great,
+  Where Solitude sweetly reposes in state,
+  And smiles on her mansion with features so mild,
+  We conceive her most pleas'd where the scene is most wild;
+  Here gurgles the Eure, thro' a thousand meanders,
+  And unrivall'd cascades swell the stream as it wanders,
+  Affording such pictures for light, form, and shade,
+  As Claude might have gaz'd on, or Roussin pourtray'd,
+  Or Wilson who gave to his country a name,
+  To rival the proudest possessors of fame.
+  But alas my poor muse to this subject must knuckle,
+  Since her song never reaches to more than a chuckle.
+  Her flame is unlit, and unfledg'd is her wing,
+  Untun'd too her lyre, for it has but one string;
+  Therefore 'tis in vain, I sit down to my desk,
+  To paint the sublime, or the true picturesque,
+  For my muse is unworthy poor ignorant Vandal,
+  To pipe on the genius of Hackfall's old sandal.
+
+    So imagine dear mother whatever you please,
+  Of rocks, rivers, waterfalls, temples, and trees,
+  And now with the grotto, the dell, and the dingle,
+  Sweet Masham must rise and its sylvan scene mingle;
+  While Swinton appears in the far distant shade,
+  By Danby and taste, a new paradise made.
+  While thus you're employ'd, I'll my pegasus whip on,
+  For once more the dinner is waiting at Rippon.      482
+
+    With tongues like the lark, and with cheeks like the ruby,
+  See the Unicorn send us all merry to Newby,
+  Where we saw a fine gall'ry of gods, and a goddess,
+  Dressed quite a la mode, with short coats and strait boddice.
+  An empress in robes, and likewise a hero,
+  Caligula's bust, and a scarified Nero;
+  I believe they were all very ancient and fine,
+  For our connoisseur party cried "charming! divine!"
+  Talk'd much of contour and the taste of the Greeks,
+  Said the art was now lost or but found in antiques;
+  But just to refute the false blame of the scorner,
+  I pointed to two modern boys in a corner,
+  Who proved without saying a word in their favour,
+  Our sculptors make cupids as lovely as ever.
+
+    Having view'd the sarcophagus too and admir'd it,
+  The tapestry came next as the ladies desir'd it;
+  But fine as I thought it, I soon was withdrawn,
+  By a glance of the family crossing the lawn;
+  For in that I saw beauty enough I am sure,
+  To enchant and delight the most nice amateur,
+  Nor was it the less to my untutored notion,      498
+  'Cause glowing with life and completed by motion;
+  But I said not a word, (tho' 'twas hard to refrain,)
+  Lest the dead should be call'd up in judgment again.
+  At Rippon next morning we went to the Minster,
+  But no lady amongst us or matron or spinster,
+  Propos'd the fam'd Needle of Wilfred to enter,
+  Tho' all to the Bone-house were willing to venture;
+  Where one lectur'd shrewdly on Gall's craniology,
+  And turn'd o'er the skulls without fear or apology;
+  But so pretty she look'd as she handed them round,
+  No doubt can I have but her learning's profound;
+  So chang'd are the ladies since your day good mother,
+  They are all literati, in one way or other;
+  But in all my life long, I ne'er saw so much on't,
+  As during this journey when each gave a touch on't,
+  At Fountains they spoke of memento and data,
+  And dirtied their hands to examine the strata.
+  At Hackfall they seized on the weeds and the grasses,
+  To determine the genus and settle the classes;
+  Spoke much of alembics and oxygen gas,
+  Nor suffered a stone unexamined to pass;
+  Unmindful meantime of the scene that was nigh,
+  To awake the full heart and entrance the fond eye,
+  And to gaze on a speck when a world was before 'em,
+  Seem'd foolish to me tho' so much I adore 'em;
+  And I could'nt help thinking good madam between us,
+  Philosophy's seldom the study of Venus;
+  'Tis hers the bright flame of the poet to swell,
+  Lead the gay mystic dance or resound the sweet shell,
+  To guide the soft pencil with delicate finger,
+  And scatter life's roses whilst o'er them we linger,
+  Concentring the charms we should never dispart,
+  The gifts of the mind with the truth of the heart.
+
+    But no longer I'll venture this subject to dash on,
+  Since I know the dear creatures but follow the fashion,
+  Nor should I have dar'd just to touch on this thistle,
+  But just to wind up my long winded epistle.      536
+
+                                     &c. &c. &c.
+
+
+
+
+
+  LETTER VI.
+
+  _High Harrogate, August 10th._
+
+
+  Since the world and all in it are subject to changing,
+  I hope my dear mother you'll pardon my ranging,
+  Nor think it surprising to find your son plac'd
+  'Mongst the very first people for fashion, and taste,
+  You must know that last week to read novels I took
+  And had stepp'd up to Wilson's to get a new book,
+  When who should I hear in the reading-room laughing,
+  But our Yeomanry Col'nel and Major O'Baffin;
+  So I stepp'd to the first with a very low bow,
+  And he was transported to see me I vow,
+  Call'd me neighbour, and friend, brother soldier, and all that,
+  Introducing the Major with plenty of small chat;
+  In short we became all so happy together,
+  They thought it was best I should just remove hither;
+  In fact as _High_ Harrogate's now all the go,
+  'Twould be folly to stay any longer at _Low_.
+  The Col'nel and Lady reside at the Granby,
+  But the Major and I who are good friends as can be,
+  Prefer at the Dragon to take up our quarters;
+  Where the company's charming, tho' some of 'em Tartars,
+  And the eating's so good and the claret so fine,
+  'Tis worth riding post fifty miles just to dine,
+  And in spite of the bustle (good madam don't frown,)
+  The house and the garden's as neat as your own.
+
+  Here's a young widow Jointurewell lately come dashing,
+  But the Countess of Allwit's the woman for splashing,
+  Her bays in their coach are as constantly prancing,
+  As the widow's black eyes on the strangers are glancing.
+  The fam'd ----r----n---- he is this moment arriving,
+  To strangers well known by the style of his driving
+  For he sports his own mail his own trumpet he blows,
+  So he well may be known wheresoever he goes,
+  He's the soul of good humour, of frolic, and whim,
+  And High Harrogate owes half its pleasures to him.
+  Lady Shufflecut's here and her husband Sir Ned,
+  She games all the night while he's snoring in bed,
+  And tho' handsome and young he's so idle all day,
+  That he seldom assists in her labours at play;
+  So the lady transacts all the business alone,
+  Tho' he on her efforts subsists 'tis well known,
+  Her friend Lady Sweepstakes oft comes for a rubber,
+  And gen'rally finds some one willing to drub her,
+  But tied by her Lord to play only for guineas,
+  She bites while she's bit and then laughs at the ninnies;
+  Who in losing their time have egregiously blundered,
+  In but taking ten pounds where they hoped for a hundred;
+  For wit and good humour this lady can boast,
+  And her temper can keep when her money is lost.
+
+  We've a dashing buck Parson among us a creature,
+  I can never describe since 'tis quite out of nature,
+  Tho' the race is antique for I'm sure 'tis the same,
+  That St. Paul has declar'd can take "glory in shame,"
+  For he's constantly gaming or quizzing the church,
+  Where he holds two good livings but leaves in the lurch,
+  Tho' the "fusty old bishop" has sought to restore him,
+  To residence, duty, and "stupid decorum."      590
+
+    In other bad men I am sorry to say,
+  We wink at the sin when the humour is gay,
+  And trusting the evil's not sunk in their hearts
+  Their errors o'erlook for their temper or parts;
+  But he who embracing an holy profession,
+  Thus robs some good man of a needful possession;
+  While conscious his heart is abandon'd and vicious,
+  Is disgustingly wicked, thence seldom pernicious;
+  So a beacon of warning this coxcomb supplies,
+  Since few men will follow what all men despise;
+  And bad as the world is he stands by himself,
+  We have good ones enow to lay him on the shelf;
+  Who e'en in this place of profuse dissipation,
+  Still honour themselves, and adorn their vocation.
+
+    The comical Banker from C--t--r is here,
+  Whom Blackett retail'd to us often last year,
+  His humour is droll and his tongue like a sickle,
+  Cuts so sharp, and so smooth, that you bleed while you tickle;
+  Lady Shufflecut oft from his spleen gets a hit,
+  But she pockets his money which pays for his wit,
+  As beauties the ----nds are at present the rage,
+  And one has two strings to her bow I'll engage,
+  But I'm sorry to say that the elegant Julie,
+  Has the fault of the day and forgets to love truly,
+  For a fine showy rake whose pretension to merit,
+  Is a far distant title he ne'er may inherit,
+  She forsakes a most excellent well manner'd youth,
+  Who deserves her no less for his virtue than truth.
+  How soon will she learn from her new master's teaching,
+  "She has cast off a pearl", but I've no time for preaching;
+  So I only shall mention one family more,
+  Tho' I wish to describe you at least half-a-score;
+  'Tis an old fashion'd gentleman drest like a show,
+  As his grandfather was just a cent'ry ago,
+  While his wife in like habit obedient to him,
+  Tho' still a fine woman complies with the whim,
+  But his daughter an elegant lovely young creature,
+  Steals a spice of the mode in her dress tho' not nature,
+  For a being so lively, yet modest, and charming,
+  So simple so wild to the heart so alarming,      630
+  This world or its customs e'er form'd I believe,
+  From the very first days of our grandmother Eve.
+
+    From a Cumberland castle I find they have crept,
+  Where from ages to ages their ancestors slept;
+  And 'tis vastly amusing to see how they look,
+  On the Harrogate world, as a new open'd book,
+  Where many new faces appear to delight 'em,
+  But many new manners to wound and affright 'em
+  The old man is shock'd to find gamesters in orders,
+  And barons whose names are well known on the Borders,
+  Now the rivals of grooms a degen'rate race,
+  The days and the deeds of their grandsires disgrace,
+  Nor less does he mourn o'er the ladies undrest,
+  While his delicate daughter, tho' silent's distrest;
+  But his lady bewails with an innocent sigh,
+  That women should gamble, should flirt, or look sly,
+  And declares when they wish to do any thing odd,
+  They should ask their liege lords for a smile and a nod,
+  A practice she thinks in a great many cases,
+  Would save much confusion 'mongst knaves, queens, and aces;
+  So contracted her conscience, illiberal her notion,
+  She fancies submission allied to devotion,
+  And thinks (as she promis'd it once) that a wife,
+  Should remember her vow all the days of her life,
+  The Dragonite ladies all laugh loud enough,
+  At her doctrine, her caps, and her long ruffled cuff,
+  Declaring her creed like her dress is replete,
+  With all that is outre, antique, obsolete,
+  'Tis the very worst part, of the very old school,
+  Detested by instinct----exploded by rule----
+  Lady Shufflecut vows she'll to Coventry send her,
+  And the Countess declares not a soul shall defend her,
+  Mrs. Rantipole wishes all women so silly,
+  Were tied by the neck to the heels of her filly,
+  But somehow I feel in the midst of this pother,
+  I should much like a wife who had _had_ such a mother,
+  With this hint dearest madam I'll bid you good bye,
+  Most likely you're tir'd and in truth so am I.      668
+
+                                     &c. &c. &c.
+
+
+
+
+  LETTER VII.
+
+  _High Harrogate, August 16th._
+
+
+  You'll rejoice my kind mother to hear once again,
+  I've been shooting with pleasure and health in my train,
+  The Major and I went a sporting together,
+  Traversing whole regions of sweet mountain heather,
+  And brought back such a number of very fine grouse
+  They charm'd all the ladies and pleas'd all the house,
+  But unluckily just in the bar while I stopp'd,
+  To present Mrs. Goodlad the fruits I had cropp'd,
+  A fine powder'd Cockney just took up my gun,
+  Crying "shooting dear sar must be wery good fun,
+  "Pray vitch is the lock sar? and vitch is the handle?"
+  When off went the piece like the snuff of a candle,
+  My unfortunate fingers at once caught the powder,
+  While the poor little Londonite felt at his shou'der
+  I could'nt help laughing in spite of my smart,
+  To see how he trembled and shook to the heart,
+  Declaring "'pon honour 'tvas wery absurd,
+  "That the gun should go off vithout saying a vord."
+  The ladies sweet creatures all full of compassion,
+  Put my hand in a sling which they said was the fashion,
+  And who would not gladly put up with a scar,
+  To pass for a vet'ran just come from the war?
+  So in order to make of the matter the best,
+  I prepared for the ball tho' I grinn'd while I drest,
+  For that night to the Granby the people were flying
+  And you know my dear mother I dance while I'm dying.
+  In fact we enjoy'd a most excellent ball,
+  And a very fine supper to finish it all,
+  Where elegance, plenty, and order presided,
+  A trio that ought to be never divided.      698
+
+    Lady A----hb----rt--n lovely and young was
+  the grace, With her three pretty sisters who gladden'd the place,
+  The H----pb--ne was there--a Minerva restor'd
+  As at Athens she reign'd not less lov'd than ador'd,
+  With a partner I met whose dancing quite charm'd me,
+  While her wit and good humour delighted, inform'd me,
+  Yes indeed lovely Sw--nt--n I ne'er shall forget,
+  The pleasure you gave in our short tete a tete.
+  Mrs. ---- was there, once a very great beauty,
+  She conceives to remain such is doubtless her duty,
+  For by washes, and rouges, false eyebrows and hair,
+  The thefts of old time she contrives to repair,
+  Whilst whalebone and buckram combine with great pain,
+  What too freely he gives in due limits to rein,
+  Was this lady well read in the Proverbs, she'd know,
+  That a season for all things is found here below,
+  And "a time to be old" if employed as it ought,
+  May have blessings "the time to be young" never brought,
+  This leads me to mention (by association)
+  No people go better to church in the nation
+  Than we Harrogate folks, for many go here,
+  Never seen in such places before I much fear,
+  We go jostling and crowding for seats and quite free
+  Turn out the possessors sans ceremonie,      722
+  And should the poor wretches presume but to grumble,
+  Look down with contempt and so bid them be humble,
+  But though on our entrance we flounder and flout,
+  Be assur'd we are better before we go out,
+  For so many fine preachers are heard in this place,
+  'Twould be shameful indeed if this were not the case;
+  Besides the good Pastor[6] whose locks are grown grey,
+  In leading his Harrogate flock the right way.
+
+    Last night as I happen'd to ride on the Down,
+  Some thunder I heard and the sky 'gan to frown;
+  So expecting a shower my way I soon bent,
+  To a mean looking cottage to 'scape the descent;
+  And o'ertook the poor owner decrepid and sickly,
+  Who strove but in vain, to move forward more quickly;
+  So I said "honest fellow your toiling refrain,
+  You may yet reach your cottage untouch'd by the rain."
+  When struck by my voice he turn'd round to reply,
+  I saw with much pain the tears stand in his eye,
+  "I have two little girls Sir, should tempest come on,
+  "Most sorely they'll grieve that their daddy is gone;
+  "But their mother will sooth them," "their mother,"! he cried,
+  And his anguish gush'd forth in keen agony's tide.      743
+  Alarm'd and distress'd by the wound I had given,
+  I dismounted and leaving my pony with Stephen,
+  Attended the mourner whose words weak and faint
+  Were rather the language of woe than complaint,
+  Tho' worn with disease and by mis'ry opprest,
+  Yet one sorrow 'bove all gave a pang to his breast,
+  The heart that was widow'd all evils could bear,
+  For sorrow is sunk in the gulph of despair!
+  "Many men have good wives Sir but one like my own,
+  I doubt even great men too seldom have known,
+  "When robb'd by disease of our means of subsistence,
+  "Her care and industry kept want at a distance;
+  "Her tenderness sooth'd while her labour sustain'd me,
+  "Nor a word pass'd her lips Sir, that ever yet pain'd me,
+  "To her all my burden of suffering was given,
+  "And it sunk her to earth while it rais'd her to Heaven,"
+  'Twas simplicity's tale which no words could adorn,
+  And I wept o'er the being thus 'reft and forlorn,
+  Ere I ventur'd to offer that kind of relief,
+  Which could sooth but one source of his manifold grief.
+  It was sympathy's proof and I wish for no other,
+  That however divided still man is man's brother;
+  But judge my emotion on ent'ring the cot,
+  Where once love and innocence hallow'd the spot,
+  To see love and innocence burst on my sight,
+  In a form more endearing and beauty more bright,
+  'Twas my Cumberland maiden embracing each child
+  Like the Angel of pity that wept as she smil'd,
+  She had heard the poor babes as they wander'd around,
+  Lament their dear mammy laid deep in the ground,
+  And stole from her party tho' splendid and gay,
+  To wipe their sad tears and to show them their way,
+  Now I gaz'd!--my heart throbb'd! while a kind of devotion
+  Rose at once to my tongue and obstructed its motion,
+  May I ne'er lose the sense of that sacred sensation
+  Or forget her blue eyes more divine emanation!
+  In folly's light moment in solitude's hour,
+  Still dear be its memory, resistless its pow'r,
+  And if ever false pleasure to guilt should allure me,
+  May a glance on this scene from perdition secure me.
+
+  Whatever each thought was reveal'd but in looks,
+  And I trust that for once they were legible books,
+  Which fairly translated read this way I deem,
+  Our compassion is mutual, be such our esteem,
+  We walk'd home together a road long and dreary,
+  But my heart trod in air, nor did Agnes seem weary,
+  And her mother declares she'll go with us to-morrow
+  To visit and comfort these children of sorrow,
+  And tho' with the Major engaged to my cost,
+  To take my revenge for some trifles I've lost;
+  And sweet Lady Shufflecut vow'd I should take,
+  A hand at her table, yet all I'll forsake,
+  For one gentle smile from that excellent being,
+  Of all this world's pleasures is best worth the seeing,
+  And would she but smile in the way that I want her,
+  The wealth of the Indies for _that_ smile I'd banter;
+  But adieu, my dear mother, I cannot dissemble,
+  That my hopes, and my fears, put me all in a tremble.
+
+                                     &c. &c. &c.
+
+[Footnote 6: Rev. R. Mitten who has lived at Harrogate more than 40
+years.]
+
+
+
+
+  LETTER VIII.
+
+  _High Harrogate, August 26th._
+
+
+  This week in such various amusement has past,
+  I have scarce had an hour to myself since my last,
+  On Monday all day we for wagers were prancing,
+  And concluded at night with most exquisite dancing;
+  Our belles and our ball every other excell'd,
+  And our supper the finest you ever beheld;
+  With Agnes I danc'd and with Agnes I sat,      801
+  And enjoy'd much communion tho' but little chat.
+  On Tuesday we all sally'd out on the green,
+  To see Mr. ---- drive his dashing machine,
+  In a figure of eight, but alas he was cross'd,
+  And his coach and four bays were to --n--s--n lost!
+  For his horses tho' doubtlessly brutes of great sense,
+  Were unskill'd in the shaping or saving of pence;
+  But he quickly redeem'd them and mounting again,
+  Return'd our brisk cheers as he drove o'er the plain.
+  The next day we were treated with excellent races,
+  But alas when they clos'd there were many long faces;
+  And especially poor Lady Shufflecut's prov'd,
+  She had dabbled too much in the current she lov'd;
+  So profusely her bets had been offer'd around,
+  That her wings were close clipp'd ere she drove from the ground;
+  When eagerly seeking her loss to repair,
+  She doubled the mischief that fell to her share;
+  And in words cabalistic combin'd with "done, done,"
+  The evening completed what morning begun,
+  And tho' till broad day-light she push'd on her chance,
+  Yet fortune ne'er deign'd an encouraging glance,
+  For Major O'Baffin and Twig'em together,
+  Pluck'd her poor little Ladyship down to a feather.
+
+    What pity a female whom nature assign'd,
+  Such a portion of beauty in person and mind,
+  Whose softness and wit might have temper'd thro' life,
+  The sweetest ingredients we seek in a wife,
+  Should absorb'd in one crime make a hell of that breast,
+  Where dove-like benignity once form'd her nest,
+  For sure if all storms were together combin'd,
+  Of hail, rain, and tempest, steel, thunder, and wind,
+  The light'ning's red glare, and the volcano laming,
+  Will but shadow the passions of woman when gaming,
+  Unmask'd, and unsex'd she presents to our view,
+  The image of vice in her own native hue,
+  At the fury before us in horror we gaze,
+  And ask where the woman is fled in amaze?
+  Whence sprung this dread Demon ye sages tell,
+  Was she born upon earth, or transported from hell,
+  What plagues and what pestilence met in their rambling,
+  To form this detestable passion for gambling,
+  Society's Upas that withers the ground,
+  And poisons the blossoms of virtue around,
+  Destroying and blasting all promise of worth,
+  Like the curse of the locusts "that ravaged the earth."
+
+    When Avarice with Misery alone in his cot,
+  Had endur'd many years an old bachelor's lot,
+  He sought from this partner to make a division,
+  By seeking himself, for a change of condition,
+  Concluding like many old men, that a wife,
+  Would banish grim Misery his cottage for life,
+  And the better this end so desir'd to obtain,
+  He fix'd on a damsel, young, splendid, and vain,
+  Her name Prodigality--not over nice,
+  The lady lov'd Avarice alone for his vice,
+  And reckon'd the pleasure of emptying his coffer,
+  Would atone for all other defects in the offer,
+  They marry and fly at the lady's suggestion,
+  A very long way from the cot of discretion,      860
+  For Extravagance sold them a villa and park,
+  Which was stock'd by Expence with all wares like an ark,
+  Yet the bridegroom astonish'd beheld with great pain,
+  That Mis'ry was still the first man in their train,
+  He stalk'd o'er their garden--sat down at their table,
+  He perch'd on the coach, and he groan'd in the stable;
+  And the tongue of the lady tho' flippant and strong,
+  Could not keep his keen face from her dressing-room long,
+  Nay e'en when her first blooming daughter was born,
+  Old Misery stood sponsor in spite of her scorn,
+  And while she his rude interference was blaming,
+  With mighty sang froid he pronounc'd the babe "_Gaming_."
+  Prodigality sought for a nurse at her leisure,
+  And consign'd the fair imp to be dandled by pleasure,
+  Hence some have mistaken this child for another,
+  Amusement--no kin, but a mere foster brother.
+  As the young one grew up she full early display'd,
+  Her sire's inclination for scraping in trade,
+  Was wond'rous alert at a close calculation,
+  And scann'd the whole science of deep computation,
+  When embu'd with her father's all grasping desires,
+  The rashness of daring her mother inspires,
+  And bids her ne'er hesitate roundly to send,
+  A bold speculation in search of her end,      884
+  Thus covetous meanness combines with profusion,
+  To spread o'er her actions the veil of delusion;
+  While Misery attends her wherever she goes,
+  With hosts of bad passions, and myriads of woes,
+  The foremost I ween is that canker-worm Care,
+  And the last that black fiend which proceeds from despair,
+  Life knows not one torment that gnaws like the first,
+  And the last of all _deaths_, is the death most accurst.
+  I hope you'll excuse this long fabling digression,
+  As a thing very common in bards by profession,
+  And to tell you the truth having been somewhat bit,
+  I find I have gain'd a new edge to my wit,
+  Yes! thanks to O'Baffin, his friendship's unriddled,
+  And her Ladyship's simper, with "Blunderhead's diddled."
+  But 'tis well I'm no worse and the wisdom they taught me,
+  Experience alone I'm afraid could have bought me,
+  For I foolishly slighted Sir J--n G--ff--d's hint,
+  Tho' I knew his heart sterling as gold from the mint;
+  I wish my good Col'nel aware of this Major,
+  Would take home his wife in the country to cage her,
+  For this Cormorant's eyes while they glanc'd on my purse,
+  Mark'd the Col'nel I doubt for a robb'ry far worse,
+  Ah mother! dear mother! I now can perceive it,
+  The world is far worse than I once could believe it,
+  When we mountaineers from the Peak make these sallies,
+  We meet with strange cattle in civiliz'd vallies,
+  And our good education I honestly own,
+  But fits us to mix with each other alone,
+  Our naivete, simplicity, openness, truth,
+  The romantic attachments of warm-hearted youth,
+  In the world's chilling atmosphere meet with such shocks,
+  We had better ne'er roam from our own native rocks,
+  But at present away with these moral excursions,
+  And return we again to the list of diversions.      916
+
+    Next came donkey races and pony likewise,
+  Each nobly contending a suitable prize,
+  For the last a fine saddle was stuck up to view,
+  Which after hard riding was won by the blue,
+  Then we all were amus'd by men jumping in sacks,
+  Tho' it laid the competitors soon on their backs,
+  But the best sport of all since it shew'd the most skill,
+  Was two well lather'd pigs left to run at their will
+  Which who seiz'd by the tail was to have for the catching,
+  But the grunters in this had the best in the matching,
+  And I never yet saw such most excellent fun,
+  As they made of the fellows who ventur'd to run;
+  Nor do I yet think that they _fairly_ were caught,
+  But the company all left the place ere they ought,
+  For a very fine turtle that day was set out,
+  By a West India heiress presented sans doute,
+  And people of taste were impatient to try,
+  If Harrogate turtle with London could vie;
+  And 'tis with _great_ pride my good madam I tell,
+  'Twas allow'd that our cook did all London excel,
+  I'm sure that Lord Gout, and Sir Harry Fullfare,
+  Each ate three good pints of the soup for their share,
+  And Mrs. Gourmander with Lady Allferret,
+  Were equally strong in their proofs of its merit,
+  And as very good eating some men of deep thinking,
+  Have roundly declar'd calls for very good drinking;
+  This alliance so nat'ral we sought to pursue,
+  And gave to the turtle the honour its due,
+  And that night for the first time I stagger'd to bed,
+  With more wine on my stomach, than sense in my head,
+  But a dose of the water as soon as 'twas day,
+  Dispers'd all my head-ache and left me quite gay,
+  And 'twas well that this good panacea I took,
+  Or Agnes had murder'd my hopes with a look;
+  For at best they're so delicate poor little things,
+  One glance of her anger would clip all their wings,
+  But I nourish the nestlings as well as I'm able,
+  And consider each smile as an anchor and cable,
+  My courage sometimes rises up to my cheek,
+  Where it flushes and glows yet forbids me to speak;
+  I would give all the world to make love to _one_ woman,
+  With the ease Col'nel B--tem--n can do it in common,
+  So pointed, yet meek, sentimental, and charming,
+  Tho' always encroaching yet never alarming;      960
+  But no wonder the Colonel shines in this way,
+  For practice makes perfect in all things they say,
+  And to maid, wife, or widow he's constantly paying,
+  Those tender attentions most dear, most betraying,
+  Unmindful I ween what vexations and smarts,
+  Must follow the game in this "play upon hearts."
+  Far different the bosom true passion inspires,
+  That silently loves, and devoutly admires,
+  It sighs not by rule nor makes speeches by measure,
+  Nor studies the arts of allurement at leisure,
+  Yet feeling all eloquent sometimes reveals,
+  That state of the soul which timidity seals,
+  And I take it the very best chance for a lover,
+  Is that moment when fortune his flame may discover;
+  Since no damsel will shrink from a peep at the breast,
+  Where her own lovely form is so sweetly imprest,
+  For should she regret that the picture's ill plac'd,
+  Yet she'll value the wearer for exquisite taste.
+
+    My Agnes of late has convers'd more than common,
+  With a Mrs. Latouche a most excellent woman,
+  Whose husband like many brave fellows beside,
+  By his country was torn from the arms of his bride,
+  For three years has he left her his absence to mourn,
+  But she now has some hopes of his speedy return,
+  She visits this place with a poor ailing aunt,
+  Whom she tends with that kindness all invalids want,
+  And proves in her tenderness, faithfulness, duty,
+  Her virtue at least is as great as her beauty,
+  Twin soul with my charmer I think it no wonder,
+  (Tho' I'm sorry sometimes) they are seldom asunder,
+  I fancy whenever I see them conversing,
+  The wife all the worth of her lord is rehearsing,
+  But I dare not yet hope that my Agnes replies,
+  By adverting to poor Mr. Blunderhead's eyes.
+    But my hopes or my fears I'll no longer intrude,
+  For this monstrous long scrawl 'tis high time to conclude.
+
+                                     &c. &c. &c.
+
+
+
+
+  LETTER IX.
+
+  _High Harrogate, August 30th._
+
+
+  Dear mother I've so much to say in my letter,
+  Tho' the last was too long I fear this wo'nt be better,
+  And someway I never know how to begin,
+  When I've got a great many fine things to bring in;
+  Nor can I with truth to our mutual relief,
+  Declare in the first place I mean to be brief,
+  For I know to my sorrow no Blunderhead yet,
+  Could ever the talent of brevity get,
+  So I still must go on with my doggerel chatter,
+  And your pardon implore for "extraneous matter."
+  You must know all this summer 't has been much the rage,
+  For High Harrogate parties new scenes to engage,
+  Leaving Studley and Hackfall and huge Brimham rocks,
+  And assemble like swallows in emigrant flocks,
+  Unmindful what terrible roads they must jolt on,
+  To view the fine grounds and the ruins of Bolton,
+  And yesterday morn a large party set out,
+  To partake the delights of this picturesque rout.
+  Fair Fenton, sweet Agnes, and lovely Latouche,
+  Were all drove by Sir George in his splendid barouche,
+  And if ever I envy'd a man so before,
+  I will leave you to judge--but I now say no more.
+  The rest in a chariot, and curricles went,
+  And set off pretty early by general consent,
+  At the Blubber-house Inn we all gladly alighted,
+  By the sight of an excellent breakfast invited,
+  Which enabled us all to endure future jumbling,
+  And substitute laughter for hunger, and grumbling,
+  When arrived at the bridge the first glimpse of the scene,
+  Majestic yet simple, tho' grand yet serene,
+  Gave presentiment sweet of the pleasure before us,
+  And our hearts with the music of nature kept chorus,
+  We just stopp'd at the Inn to enquire for a guide,
+  And while saunt'ring around till this want was supplied,
+  A Skipton chaise pass'd; whence a stranger look'd out,
+  To see what so many gay folks were about;
+  But the moment the form of his visage appear'd,
+  What a shriek of delight from his consort was heard,
+  'Tis he! 'tis my Henry! no more could she say,
+  On the bosom of Agnes just fainting she lay,
+  While the gallant Latouche from his vehicle sprung,
+  And in speechless delight o'er his Ellinor hung;
+  While adown his brown face roll'd the gracefullest tear,
+  Which the hero could shed or the lover hold dear,
+  'Twas a moment of bliss so intense in delight,
+  It concenter'd whole ages of joy in its flight,
+  And as Ellinor's eyes in transported amaze,
+  Again, and again, on her Henry would gaze,
+  The Elysium of extacy glow'd in their beam,
+  The world was forgot, and past sorrow a dream.
+
+  And think ye that Agnes unmov'd could behold,
+  A scene where the bosom's best feeling's were told?
+  Ah no! in her cheeks heightened blushes I read,
+  Sensibility's whisper that moment had sped,      1050
+  And told her when hearts thus congenial could meet,
+  Earth knows no communion more pure or more sweet,
+  I hail'd the blest omen, and watch'd for the hour,
+  Which should lead our wild wanderings to solitude's bow'r,
+  But long had we travers'd the ruins and grove,
+  Ere my lips dar'd to utter one word of my love
+  For such trembling anxiety hung on my breast,
+  Even now I scarce know what I falt'ring confest,
+  But _this_ I well know that my falt'ring confession,
+  Was deem'd by the fair one no flagrant transgression,
+  Tho' her words were but few yet her charming confusion,
+  Assur'd me forgiveness beyond all delusion,
+  And this young bud of hope ere the sun was gone down,
+  By her kindness became a fair blossom full blown
+  Oh morning of rapture! oh day of delight!
+  Oh evening full gemm'd with the spangles of night!
+  If e'er I forget the dear moments ye gave me,
+  May the world be my guide--may her follies enslave me,
+  May the blossom of hope from my bosom dissever,
+  And may Agnes be lost to my wishes for ever----
+
+    Do you ask me of Bolton its rocks, woods, and plains,
+  Where beauty enthron'd in sublimity reigns?
+  Where the Wharfe ever lovely, capricious, romantic,
+  Or murmuring glides or impetuously frantic,
+  Now spreads o'er the plain in majestic repose,
+  Now rending the rocks as a cataract flows?
+  Or enquire of the Priory whose ruins sublime,
+  Shew beauties more soft from the pressure of time,
+  And as their fine forms moulder gently away,
+  Awake veneration and love from decay?
+  Of Bardon's fine tow'r which proudly excelling,
+  The Genius of Craven might choose for his dwelling,
+  (For Genii and Fairies alone should be found,
+  To people the regions celestial around,      1084
+  While a Demon of darkness might howl o'er the Strid,
+  And lash the fierce torrent that roar'd as he chid,)
+  Yes this is the region for fancy to soar,
+  Meditation to rove and devotion adore,
+  For the painter's whole soul to exist in his eye,
+  And the poet's on pinions new plumag'd to fly!
+  But alas tho' each charm I could quickly discover,
+  Yet expect no description but _one_ from a lover,
+  If to tell of the Abbey's grey stones I begin,
+  I shall surely contrast them with Agnes's skin;
+  From the rock herbage-crown'd all bespangled with dew,
+  I shall start to her eye's melting orbit of blue;
+  Nor a wave of the river can flow wildly simple,
+  But Agnes will rise with her smile and her dimple,
+  So aware of my weakness I make no pretension,
+  To give you description supply'd by invention,
+  But I've bought a whole set of fine prints which will prove,
+  That Bolton is meet for the birth place of love.
+  And in them I will shew you dear mother, those places,
+  The smiles of my fair one illum'd with new graces,
+  And when I'm so blest (may the time quickly come,)
+  To bring the sweet maid to a Derbyshire home,
+  These pictures hung round the old hall shall display,
+  How dear to my heart are the scenes they pourtray,
+  And Agnes methinks "nothing loth" will behold,
+  The spot where my passion first dar'd to unfold,
+  And fondly will point to that bank where the willow,
+  Re-murmur'd my vows as it bent to the billow.--
+  "Dear Bolton adieu!" we all cried while returning,
+  "Whoe'er left thy glen's lovely vale without mourning."
+  When just as we spoke the fair rectory rose,
+  Like the dwelling of peace in the lap of repose,
+  We started with pleasure astonish'd to find,
+  Such a Paradise close on the Eden behind,
+  There Pomona's rich clusters hung sportively round,
+  And Flora's gay carpet enamell'd the ground.
+  As enchanted we gaz'd the kind owner appearing,
+  Address'd us with manners politely endearing,
+  And much we regretted the shadows of eve,
+  Oblig'd us reluctantly soon to take leave.      1124
+
+    Dinner quickly dispatch'd--to the Captain of course,
+  My seat I resign'd and then borrow'd a horse,
+  Be assur'd the barouche was most duly attended,
+  And from dangers (that came not) most bravely defended,
+  So courageous I felt, that 'twas really a pity,
+  We never encounter'd one troop of banditti,
+  No fright of the horses induc'd them to try,
+  Just to leap o'er a bridge tho' so many were nigh,
+  As the roads that would shake her 'twas folly to fly at,
+  I was forc'd to ride on most provokingly quiet,
+  In hopes that some future occasion will prove,
+  My prowess, and gallantry, equal my love.
+
+    This morning I rose with the dawning of day,
+  On Agnes to think and contrive what to say,
+  And after some planning and much hesitation,
+  To her father I spoke on this weighty occasion:
+  And I gratefully own that the worthy old Squire,
+  Was as kind to my hopes as my heart could desire;
+  He confess'd 'twas his foible to value old blood,
+  And declar'd that my race was both ancient and good,
+  'Fore the conquest he reckon'd some fifteen or twenty,
+  And when it took place there were Blunderheads plenty,
+  In the days of King Stephen 'tis known how they flourish'd,
+  And the wars of the Roses the pedigree nourish'd,
+  In Harry the eighth's time 'twas easy to trace,
+  The parliament owed its support to our race,
+  Tho' Elizabeth liked us not yet it was plain,
+  We came pretty handsomely in the next reign;
+  And continued in pow'r thro' succeeding confusion,
+  Till sadly eclips'd by the proud revolution,
+  And altho' since that period somewhat declining,
+  He trusted the time would return for our shining,
+  Tho' 'tis true that the Regent disclaims our alliance,
+  From his fondness for freedom, for arts, and for science.
+  In short he appear'd both so learned and kind,
+  He's the wisest and best of old men to my mind,
+  But adieu my dear mother I'm now on the wing,
+  With Agnes to taste the Chalybeate spring.
+
+                                 &c. &c. &c.
+
+
+
+
+  LETTER X.
+
+  _High Harrogate, September 21st._
+
+
+  For my silence these three weeks your pardon I ask,
+  But really dear mother all writing's a task,
+  Save for sonnets to Agnes I do not know when,
+  My run-a-way fingers laid hold of a pen,
+  But I trust your indulgence will freely excuse,
+  This natural fault in my negligent muse,
+  Since she now comes before you in very great sorrow,
+  To tell you I part with my charmer to-morrow,
+  Tho' the Dragon's quite full and the company gay,
+  And a ball at the Queen's-head is promis'd to-day,
+  Yet when Agnes is gone I most plainly can see,
+  This place will have lost all attraction for me,
+  And I think when the coach and my lovely one in it
+  Drives away, that I too must be off the next minute,
+  Consolation to find in my mother's kind greeting,
+  And forming good plans for our next pleasant meeting.
+
+    Then fare ye well Harrogate--dear to my heart,
+  Be the joys you inspire and the health you impart,
+  May your springs ever flow an immutable treasure,
+  And the breeze that blows o'er you be freighted with pleasure;
+  Farewell to your Doctors--more skilful and kind,
+  Not a Spa on the Island can promise to find,
+  But chiefly my own must I leave with regret,
+  For a sigh to our parting is gratitude's debt,
+  His suavity, modesty, knowledge, and truth,
+  Where the wisdom of age, joins the candour of youth,
+  Have made me so truly esteem and respect him,
+  While I value true worth I can never neglect him.
+  No more must I saunter along the Parade,
+  Or fly for a tune to the gay Promenade,
+  At Wilson's exhibit my knowledge or wit,
+  Or step into Wright's for my picture to sit,
+  At Robey's or Bachelor's loiter to chuse,
+  A broach or a ring while I hear all the news,
+  Or ride on the common and gladly inhale,
+  The spirit of strength from the heath-scented gale
+  But tho' to your pleasures I now bid adieu,
+  Be assur'd that next year shall those pleasures renew,
+  Renew and exceed for on Hymen's white wing,
+  To these haunts so belov'd I my Agnes may bring,
+  The hopes of that blessing my cares shall beguile,
+  And I leave thee dear Harrogate now with a smile.
+
+
+
+
+  NOTES.
+
+
+
+
+  NOTES.
+
+
+_Our respects to the beauties of Knaresbro' &c._ _Verse
+342._--Knaresbro' is a considerable Town, situated on a rock almost
+encompassed by the river Nidd. Near the town are the ruins of an ancient
+magnificent castle built soon after the Conquest, and in one side of a
+neighbouring rock is a cell where an hermit lived, still called St.
+Robert's Chapel. The altar is cut out of one piece of solid rock, and on
+it are engraved the figures of three heads, supposed to represent the
+Trinity. This Robert founded himself a new order of monks, called
+Robertines, but it is probable that they soon diminished to nothing, as
+we do not meet with their name either in the Breviary or Baronius.
+
+But the greatest curiosity at Knaresbro' is the petrifying spring
+commonly called the Dropping-Well. This natural curiosity is a spring
+that rises about two miles from the town, and after running above a mile
+under ground, comes to the top of a rock sixteen feet high, after which
+it drops through in fifty or sixty places into a bason below, formed by
+nature for its reception. Every drop has something of a musical sound as
+if it were small stones falling on brass, and near it are many pieces of
+moss reduced to a state of petrefaction; there is a fine walk on one
+side of the well shaded with tall trees that makes the whole extremely
+delightful.
+
+  _Extract from British Traveller, page_ 621.
+
+    To this brief extract the Editor begs leave to add, that the
+    finest views of this singularly beautiful place are obtained
+    from the Low-bridge, the road leading to the Upper-bridge, and
+    the fields which are nearly opposite the castle; the variety of
+    cottages and the beautiful knolls of bold and herbaged rock
+    which every where intersect the scenery, render it the most
+    picturesque and interesting which can be found in so short a
+    compass. But though much beauty may be discovered in a few hours
+    at Knaresbrough, yet its charms will not be exhausted by the
+    residence of a long life.
+
+
+_To Plumpton proceeded, &c. v. 374._--This beautiful spot is rendered
+extremely attractive to the visitors at Harrogate, not only on account
+of its intrinsic merit, but its vicinity, as it is scarcely three miles
+distant from High Harrogate. Plumpton is always most admired by those
+who have seen it most frequently, being more pleasing than striking; it
+is open to the public on Tuesdays and Fridays; on the road from Plumpton
+a fine view of the Honourable Mr. Gordon's magnificent new mansion in
+Rudding Park is obtained.
+
+  _Editor's Note._
+
+
+_To Harewood I went the first day I could, v. 380._ This splendid
+mansion can be seen only on Saturdays; it is justly considered an object
+of admiration as it unites elegance with grandeur, and utility with
+beauty.
+
+  _Editor's Note._
+
+
+_To Studley, &c. v. 389._--The celebrated grounds of Studley have long
+enjoyed a pre-eminence of fame among the northern beauties; their
+characteristics are magnificence, uniformity, and neatness. The
+stateliness of the trees and the luxuriance of their foliage is
+unequalled, and combines with the smoothness of the water and the "clear
+smooth shaven green," which surrounds it, to impress on the mind a sense
+of repose rather than an emotion of surprise. In its own style, Studley
+is perfect, and can never fail to delight, though it may be unable to
+astonish.
+
+
+_But who hallow'd Fountains, &c. v. 393._--The magnificent ruin of
+Fountains Abbey included in the grounds of Studley, is an object of
+delight and veneration in the highest degree, and will in the eye of an
+artist be rendered still more so when it shall have become farther
+dilapidated; the first view of it from the grounds of Studley is
+extremely commanding and striking, but as a ruin it is more beautiful
+and interesting in the interior views; the extent of the church and the
+monastery and its offices conveys a clear idea of the power and state
+enjoyed by the Benedictine monks, who resided here in all the dignity of
+honour and the luxury of wealth--the dining-room and kitchen of the
+higher orders and the refectory of the lower, bespeak the richness of
+their revenues and their princely method of disposing of them. The
+trees, shrubs, and foliage intermingled with these extensive ruins, are
+the principal source of its beauties, being combined and contrasted with
+the mouldering arches and nodding towers in every possible form; of
+these the ivy and wild currant are the most prominent.
+
+  _Editor's Note._
+
+
+_See the Unicorn send us all merry to Newby, &c. v. 483._--Newby-hall
+the seat of Lord Grantham, is most remarkable for possessing a very fine
+Gallery built after the model of the Florentine Gallery so long the
+pride of the civilized world; it contains many fine statues and three
+sarcophagi, although the largest alone appears to have attracted the
+attention of Mr. Blunderhead, who it is plain had but little knowledge
+or taste in works of art.--The tapestry in the drawing-room is
+considered incomparably fine, but the author has undoubtedly a very
+handsome and sufficient excuse for leaving it so abruptly.
+
+  _Editor's Note._
+
+
+_Oh then might I sing lovely Hackfall, v. 453._--To those who seek in
+landscape gardening for the wilder features of nature harmonized yet
+unsubdued by art, this sequestered vale will present an exquisite treat
+and afford to the contemplative mind a scene of such deep retirement and
+romantic seclusion adorned with objects of such exquisite and concentred
+beauty as must meet the eye ere they can be appreciated by the
+imagination, which may people these fairy regions with every object of
+terror, or delight with equal propriety.
+
+  _Editor's Note._
+
+
+_We went to the Minster, v. 505._--The Minster at Rippon is a fine
+gothic structure, it formerly contained a narrow passage called the
+Needle of St. Wilfred, used by the monks as an ordeal for female
+purity.--The Bone-house contains many thousand skulls, and is generally
+shewn as a curiosity.
+
+  _Editor's Note._
+
+
+_Fam'd Brimham rocks, &c.--v._ 1009.--These prodigious masses of natural
+rock, together with a druidical temple near them, form one of the
+objects of curiosity in this neighbourhood; they are distant about
+eleven miles.
+
+  _Editor's Note._
+
+
+_To view the fine grounds and the ruins of Bolton. v. 1011._--Bolton-Priory
+stands upon a beautiful curviture of the Wharfe, on a level sufficiently
+elevated to protect it from inundation, and low enough for every purpose
+of picturesque effect.--In the latter respect it has no equal among the
+northern houses, perhaps not in the kingdom.--To the south all is soft
+and delicious, the eye reposes upon a few rich pastures, a moderate
+reach of the river sufficiently tranquil to form a mirror for the sun,
+and the bounding fells beyond neither too near, nor too lofty, to
+exclude even in winter any considerable portion of his rays.
+
+But after all, the glories of Bolton are on the north, whatever the most
+fastidious taste could require to form a perfect landscape, is not only
+found here, but in its proper place; in front and immediately under the
+eye, is a smooth expanse of park-like inclosure, spotted with native
+elm, ash, &c. of the finest growth; on the right a skirting oak wood
+with jutting points of grey rock; on the left a rising copse, still
+forward are the aged groves of Bolton-park the growth of centuries, and
+further yet the barren and rocky distances of Simon Seat and Barden
+Fell, contrasted with the warmth, fertility, and luxuriant foliage of
+the valley below--about half a mile above Bolton-Priory the valley
+closes, and either side of the Wharfe is overhung with deep and solemn
+woods, intermingled with huge masses of perpendicular rocks which jut
+out at intervals.
+
+This sequestered scene was inaccessible till of late, when under the
+judicious direction of the Rev. W. Carr, B. D. Rector of Bolton-ridings,
+were cut in the woods, and the most interesting parts laid open to the
+eye, at the request of the noble proprietor, His Grace the Duke of
+Devonshire. _Extract from Dr. Whitaker's history of Craven._
+
+
+_Howl o'er the Strid, &c.--v. 1085._--In the deep solitude of the woods
+above Bolton, the Wharfe suddenly contracts itself to a rocky channel
+little more than four feet wide, and pours through the tremendous
+fissure with a violence proportioned to its confinement. The place is
+called the Strid from a feat sometimes exercised by persons of great
+agility and little prudence, who skip from brink to brink regardless of
+the destruction which awaits a faltering step. An accident caused by
+this rashness has given a dreadful and sensible interest to this awful
+spot, in addition to the commending one it has received by nature, and
+which is immediately connected with the records of Bolton.
+
+In the 12th century, William Fitz Duncan at the command of David King of
+Scotland, who was besieging Narham, laid waste this part of Yorkshire
+with fire and sword, committing every species of cruelty which barbarity
+could suggest, and humanity deplore. In fourteen years after, David
+established him by force in the domain he had impoverished, and he
+married Aaliza daughter and heiress of William de Meschines a
+neighbouring Earl. They had a son commonly called the Boy of Egremont
+(from one of his grandfather's baronies where he was born) and who
+surviving his eldest brother became the sole hope of his family.
+
+This youth in his sixteenth year, inconsiderately bounding over this
+terrific chasm with a greyhound in his leash, the affrighted animal hung
+back and drew his unfortunate master into the torrent.--The forester who
+accompanied young Romille (the Boy of Egremont) returned to the Lady
+Aaliza, and with a despairing countenance said, "What is good for a
+bootless bene?" to which the mother apprehending some great calamity had
+befallen her son, answered, "endless sorrow."--The language of this
+question proves the antiquity of the story; its meaning appears to have
+been, what remains when prayer is useless.
+
+This fatal accident induced the Lady Aaliza to translate the Priory of
+Embsay, founded by her parents from thence to Bolton on account of its
+proximity to the scene of her son's deplorable death.
+
+  _Dr. Whitaker's history of Craven_.
+
+
+N. B. Six fine coloured prints of views in Bolton have been published
+from original pictures painted on the spot, by T. C. Hofland, among
+which is an admirable representation of the Strid.
+
+
+_Farewell to your Doctors, &c.--v. 1180._--Mr. Blunderhead was
+undoubtedly right in this observation, as perhaps not one watering place
+can boast medical men of equal ability and liberality, affording so
+striking a contrast with those "condemn'd to endless fame," by the
+memoirs of his celebrated uncle.
+
+
+  Finis.
+
+
+
+
+  G. Wilson, Printer,
+  Market-Place, Knaresbrough.
+
+
+  =Transcriber's Notes:=
+  original hyphenation, spelling and grammar have been preserved as in
+    the original
+  Page 16, 'objection she pleases.' changed to 'objection she pleases."'
+  Page 17, "off their glasses" changed to "off their glasses,"
+  Page 30, "&c &c. &c." changed to "&c. &c. &c."
+  Page 44, "long winded epistle," changed to "long winded epistle."
+  Page 63, "&c. &c. &c" changed to "&c. &c. &c."
+  Page 69, "all grasping desires" changed to "all grasping desires,"
+  Page 76, "&c. &c. &c" changed to "&c. &c. &c."
+  Page 84, "will behold" changed to "will behold,"
+  Page 87, "Chalybeate spring" changed to "Chalybeate spring."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's A Season at Harrogate, by Barbara Hofland
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A SEASON AT HARROGATE ***
+
+***** This file should be named 35193.txt or 35193.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        https://www.gutenberg.org/3/5/1/9/35193/
+
+Produced by David Edwards, Ross Cooling and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Canada Team at
+http://www.pgdpcanada.net (This file was produced from
+images generously made available by The Internet
+Archive/Canadian Libraries)
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+https://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+https://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at https://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit https://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including including checks, online payments and credit card
+donations.  To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     https://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.