Travellers Stories | Page 6

She lives at
Ambleside, in what is called the Lake Country. Ambleside is a
beautiful country town in the valley of the Rotha, and not far from Lake
Windermere. Around the town rise high hills, which perhaps may be
called mountains. These mountains are not, like many of ours, clothed
to the summit with thick wild forests, but have fewer trees, and are
often bare at the summit. The mixture of gray rock and green grass
forms such a beautiful coloring over their graceful and sometimes
grotesque outline that you would not have them other than they are.
The Ambleside houses are of dark-gray stone, and almost all of them
have ivy and flowers about them. One small house, the oldest in the
village, was several hundred years old; and out of all the crevices
between the stones hung harebells and other wild flowers; one side of it
and much of the roof were covered with ivy. This house was only about
ten feet square, and it looked to me like a great rustic flower pot.
I should like some time to read you a description of this lovely place,
written by Miss Martineau herself. Then you will almost hear the
murmuring sound of the Brathay and the Rotha, and breathe the
perfume of the wild heather, and catch the freshness of the morning

breeze, as she offers you these mountain luxuries in her glowing words.
Miss Martineau lives a little out of the village. You drive up to the
house through a shrubbery of laurels, and roses, and fuschias, and other
plants,--young trees and flowers,--to the beautiful little porch, covered
with honeysuckles and creeping plants. The back of the house is turned
to the road, and the front looks out over the loveliest green meadows, to
the grand, quiet hills, sometimes clear and sharp in their outline against
the blue sky, and at others wreathed with mist; and one might sit for
hours at the large bay window in the parlor, watching these changes,
and asking no other enjoyment.
It was also a great pleasure to witness the true and happy life of my
friend. I saw there the highest ideas of duty, usefulness, and
benevolence carried into daily practice. Miss Martineau took us one
morning to see the poet Wordsworth. He lived in a low, old-fashioned
stone house, surrounded by laurels, and roses, and fuschias, and other
flowers and flowering shrubs. The porch is all covered with ivy. We
found the venerable man in his low, dark parlor. He very kindly
showed us his study, and then took us over his grounds.
When we took our leave, I asked him to give each of us a leaf from a
fine laurel tree near him; this he did very kindly, and smiled as kindly
at my effort at a compliment, in saying to him something about one
who had received so many laurels having some to spare to others. I
thanked him for his goodness in giving me so much of his time, and
bade the venerable man good by, very much pleased with my visit, and
very grateful to the kind friend who had introduced me to him, and
insured me a welcome. I shall never forget that day.
Ambleside is a very fashionable place for travellers to visit in the
summer months, and we saw there many distinguished and agreeable
people.
I had a conversation with an intelligent lad of fourteen years of age,
which impressed me very much. He was talking with me about our
country, and finding faults with it of various kinds. While I could, I
defended it. He thought our revolution was only a rebellion. I told him
that all revolutions were only successful rebellions, and that we bore
with the tyranny of his country as long as we could. "I don't like the
Americans," said he; he blushed as he thought of the discourtesy of
saying this to me, and then added, "they are so inconsistent; they call

themselves republicans, and then hold slaves, and that is so wicked and
absurd." He went on to say all he thought and felt about the wickedness
of slavery. I heard him to the end, and then said, "There is nothing you
have said upon that subject that I do not agree to entirely. You cannot
say too much against slavery; but I call myself an abolitionist, and
while I live, I mean to say and do all I can against it. There are many
people in America, also, who feel as I do, and we hope to see it
abolished."
While we were in Westmoreland, we made an excursion of four days
among the beautiful lakes. Miss Martineau was our guide and
companion. She knows the name of every mountain, every lake, every
glen and dale,