Of its name, different derivations are given by different authorities. Some give it a British origin, viz., “_ton_ a town, _con_ at the head of, _is_ a lake.” Others say it is from the Saxon “Konyg'ston,” thereby inferring it to have been, some time or other, a residence or appanage of royalty. Others, less profound and less ambitious, derive its name from the facilities for hiding in “times of trouble” afforded by the intricate and inaccessible character of its cliffs, crags, and boulders, and call it Cunning Stone. The first describes its position—the second may flatter the loyal vanity of its residents, and the third accords with its natural character, its ancient orthography, and the local pronunciation of its name; therefore take which best suits your taste, and allow me to tell you something about it as we find it now. The beauties of Conistone have never been adequately described, neither has it received even “the shadow of justice” from any writer since the days of Gray, the poet, old West, the antiquary, and Mrs Anne Radcliffe, of romance-spinning celebrity, all of whom wrote of the scenery of Conistone in terms of quaintly eloquent eulogium. Indeed, the once popular, and still admired, fabricatrix of “Mysteries,” places it pre-eminent over all its neighbours in its diversity of beauty; and, since her day, many have spoken or written in praise of one or more of the items which go to make up the sum of its unparalleled attractions. A lady of high rank and wealth informed me that the salubrity of its atmosphere is such that, when in very precarious health, and advised by an eminent court physician to proceed to Madeira as her only chance of recovery, a few weeks’ residence at Conistone restored her to robust and permanent health. Professor Wilson says, that when “you come in sight of the Lake of Conistone, the prospect is at once beautiful and sublime,” and “you will acknowledge that Conistone can almost bear a comparison with Windermere.” And even he admits elsewhere, that it surpasses Windermere in the quality of its char!—perhaps, to most people, the highest praise he can give it. Another equally experienced, though not equally eminent gastronome, declares its black-faced mutton to be incomparably the best ever boiled. Professor Sedgwick, in his “Geology of the Lake District,” names Conistone thrice for any other locality once. Experienced and successful mining adventurers class it A1., on account of its underground wealth. [Sidenote: A BOLD DEDUCEMENT] Dr Charles Mackay says that Conistone Water is “the most placid of all the lakes.” Thomas de Quincey, the English opium-eater, speaking of the view of Conistone from the road near Tarn Hows, says—“to which, for a _coup de theatre_, I know nothing equal.” A talented artist of indisputable taste says, that no other vicinity affords such an abundance of subjects for fine pictures.