in Nature than is to be realized in vicinity of Keswick; and no home
thereabouts surpasses Greta Hall in charm of location and quiet, simple
beauty.

Greta Hall is a rambling pile, constructed partly of stone and partly of
wood, evolved rather than built, for evidently the work was done by many
hands, and stretched over a century or more of time. Vines and flowers,
fruits and shrubbery, stone walls covered close by creeping bellflowers
where birds chirrup and cheep and play hide-and-seek the livelong day--all
these are there. The house is situated on a little wooded plateau that
overlooks the lake, and back of it the solemn and everlasting hills stand
guard. There are no such mountains here as one sees in Switzerland,
overpowering, vast, awful in their majesty; but just green-topped,
self-sufficient and friendly hills that invite you to lift up your eyes
and be strong.

Visitors are welcome to the grounds at Greta Hall at all times, and the
kind old gardener who showed us about gathered us bouquets of mignonette,
rue and thyme, and gave us the history of a wonderful pear-tree that had
turned into a vine and now covers one whole side of a stable thirty feet
long. Even a tree will lose its individuality if it is not allowed to
assert its nature and care for itself. That particular pear-tree, we were
told, sprang from a slip planted by Shelley when he once came here on a
visit to Southey; and we were further told that the year Shelley was
drowned, the leaves of this tree turned pale and withered, and only by
patient, loving nursing on the part of our old gardener's father was its
life saved. The residence was closed the day we were there, in dread
anticipation of Cook tourists with designs on the shrubbery, we had reason
to believe, but we lingered around the grounds, listened to the soothing,
rippling lullaby of the Greta, watched the strutting peacocks, and ate
bread-and-milk, under the trees, out of big bowls supplied us by the old
gardener for the most modest of considerations.

Southey never really mixed in the wealth of beauty that covers this
beautiful corner of earth. He was learned and profound, and he took
himself and the Church and the State seriously. He felt himself a part of
an indestructible institution, whereas man and all his works are no more
peculiar, no more wonderful than an ant-hill--and last only a day longer.
He never realized that he was a part of the great whole that made up
mountain, lake, gl