rch--St. Oswald's--upon it. The whole
interior of the edifice was plain, simple, almost to grimness,--or would
have been so, only that the foolish church-wardens, or other authority,
have washed it over with the same buff color with which they have
overlaid the exterior. It is a pity; it lightens it up, and desecrates
it horribly, especially as the woman says that there were formerly
paintings on the walls, now obliterated forever. I could have stayed in
the old church much longer, and could write much more about it, but
there must be an end to everything. Pacing it from the farther end to
the elevation before the altar, I found that it was twenty-five paces
long.

On looking again at the Rothay, I find I did it some injustice; for at
the bridge, in its present swollen state, it is nearer twenty yards than
twenty feet across. Its waters are very clear, and it rushes along with
a speed which is delightful to see, after an acquaintance with the muddy
and sluggish Avon and Leam.

Since tea, I have taken a stroll from the hotel in a different direction
from usual, and passed the Swan Inn, where Scott used to go daily to get
a draught of liquor when he was visiting Wordsworth, who had no wine nor
other inspiriting fluid in his house. It stands directly on the wayside,
a small, whitewashed house, with an addition in the rear that seems to
have been built since Scott's time. On the door is the painted sign of
a swan,--and the name "Scott's Swan Hotel." I walked a considerable
distance beyond it; but a shower coming up, I turned back, entered the
inn, and, following the mistress into a snug little room, was served
with a glass of bitter ale. It is a very plain and homely inn, and
certainly could not have satisfied Scott's wants, if he had required
anything very farfetched or delicate in his potations. I found two
Westmoreland peasants in the room with ale before them. One went away
almost immediately; but the other remained, and, entering into
conversation with him, he told me that he was going to New Zealand, and
expected to sail in September. I announced myself as an American, and he
said that a large party had lately gone from hereabouts to America; but
he seemed not to understand that there was any distinction between
Canada and the States. These people had gone to Quebec. He was a very
civil, well-behaved, kindly sort of person, of a simple character, which
I took to belong to the class and locality, rather than to himsel