chance, and how he takes his fall if it is scored against him. At the end of the half, Dr. Arnold, with his usual kindness, and with a view I believe to mark his approval of my brother’s character and general conduct at the school, invited him to spend part of his holidays at the Lakes. His visit to Foxhow, and Yorkshire, at Christmas 1839, before he went up to Oxford, delighted him greatly. He had never seen a mountain before, and the fact of seeing them for the first time from his old master’s house, with schoolfellows to whom he was warmly attached, doubled his pleasure. I have only room, however, for one of his letters:— “FOXHOW, _Jan. 6th, 1840_. “MY DEAR FATHER AND MOTHER, “I will now give you a more lengthened account of my proceedings than I did in my last. “Last Saturday week I reached Ambleside, as you know. As I was following my luggage to Foxhow I met Mrs. Arnold, and visited Stockgill force. “_Sunday._—I did nothing particular, although it was a splendid day, and we saw the mountains beautifully. “_Monday._—Hard frost. We went up Lufrigg, the mountain close by Foxhow, to try if we could get any skating, but it would not bear my weight. I and Matt Arnold then went down to a swampy sort of lake to shoot snipes: we found a good number, but it came on to rain, and before we got back from Elterwater (the name of the lake) we were well wet through. “_Tuesday—Wednesday._—Rain—rain! “_Thursday._—We were determined to do something, so Matt, Tom, and I took horse and rode to Keswick, and we had a most beautiful ride. We left Lady Fleming’s on the right, went along the shores of Rydale Lake, then from Rydale to Grasmere, then through the pass called High Rocae (I don’t know if that is rightly spelt), leaving a remarkable mountain called the Lion and the Lamb on the right—then to Thurlmere, leaving Helvellyn on the right. Thurlmere is a beautiful little lake: there is a very fine rock on the left bank called Ravenscrag, and on the right Helvellyn rises to an immense height. Then the view of Keswick was most beautiful: Keswick straight before us—Bassenthwaite beyond Keswick in the distance; Derwentwater on our left—Saddleback and Skiddaw on the right, one 2,780 and the other 3,000 feet high, and Helvellyn (3,070 feet) behind us. It was a rainy, misty day, so that we did not see so much as we might have done, and it was only at odd moments that we caught a glimpse of Helvellyn free from clouds, but we were lucky in seeing it at all; they gave us such a dinner at the inn (without our requiring anything grand) as would have made a Southern stare—all the delicacies of the season, potted char among the rest—and charging us only 2_s._ apiece.