to sleep in the bed of the foaming Brook; _then_, he would be unwilling to move forward, not less from a reluctance to relinquish what he beholds, than from an apprehension of disturbing, by his approach, the quietness beneath him. Issuing from the plain of this valley, the Brook descends in a rapid torrent, passing by the church-yard of Seathwaite. The traveller is thus conducted at once into the midst of the wild and beautiful scenery which gave occasion to the Sonnets from the 14th to the 20th inclusive. From the point where the Seathwaite Brook joins the Duddon, is a view upwards, into the pass through which the River makes its way into the Plain of Donnerdale. The perpendicular rock on the right bears the ancient British name of THE PEN; the one opposite is called WALLA-BARROW CRAG, a name that occurs in several places to designate rocks of the same character. The _chaotic_ aspect of the scene is well marked by the expression of a stranger, who strolled out while dinner was preparing, and at his return, being asked by his host, “What way he had been wandering?” replied, “As far as it is _finished_!” The bed of the Duddon is here strewn with large fragments of rocks fallen from aloft; which, as Mr. Green truly says, “are happily adapted to the many-shaped waterfalls,” (or rather water-breaks, for none of them are high,) “displayed in the short space of half a mile.” That there is some hazard in frequenting these desolate places, I myself have had proof; for one night an immense mass of rock fell upon the very spot where, with a friend, I had lingered the day before. “The concussion,” says Mr. Green, speaking of the event, (for he also, in the practice of his art, on that day sat exposed for a still longer time to the same peril,) “was heard, not without alarm, by the neighbouring shepherds.” But to return to Seathwaite Church-yard: it contains the following inscription. “In memory of the Reverend Robert Walker, who died the 25th of June, 1802, in the 93rd year of his age, and 67th of his curacy at Seathwaite. “Also, of Anne his wife, who died the 28th of January, in the 93rd year of her age.” In the parish-register of Seathwaite Chapel, is this notice: “Buried, June 28th, the Rev. Robert Walker. He was curate of Seathwaite sixty-six years. He was a man singular for his temperance, industry, and integrity.” This individual is the Pastor alluded to, in the eighteenth Sonnet, as a worthy compeer of the Country Parson of Chaucer, &c. In the Seventh Book of the Excursion, an abstract of his character is given, beginning— “A Priest abides before whose life such doubts Fall to the ground;—” and some account of his life, for it is worthy of being recorded, will not be out of place here. MEMOIR OF THE REV. ROBERT WALKER.