Yorkshire, and it is more commended by him than any other in the vicinity of Sheffield. He saw it on a fine summer's evening, when all the parts came in masses, and the lights and shadows were not only favourable but strikingly imposing. Strange that such a man as Dayes could pass through the fine country around Sheffield and see ́ no beauty but in Smithy Wood Bottom.

The walk from Heeley to Norton, by the way of Woodseats and Bole Hill, commands a series of delightful views over the adjacent country. In one direction the hills and woods of Beauchief and Ecclesal enrich the middle distance of the landscape, and the heathy moors of Derbyshire terminate the prospect. In another, Banner Cross and the luxuriantly wooded hills about Sheffield, extending from Wincobank to Grenoside, and from thence to Wentworth and Warncliffe, are noble features in the extensive and beautifully diversified landscapes which this walk in its progress presents. Having attained the summit of the hill that overlooks Abbey Dale, and paused a while to gaze upon the scenery before us, we proceeded to Norton, one of the pleasantest and most respectable villages in any part of Derbyshire. This secluded place is more neat and trim than formerly: it has lost part of its rural appearance by the enclosure of the many little verdant spots with which it was once adorned. The Village Green, the scene of many a mirthful sport, has disappeared, and every plot of ground is now securely hemmed in with fences. I question not the policy of such proceedings---they may be wise and useful, perhaps necessary, but they have devastated many a lovely scene, and impaired the beauty of many a rural picture.

There are several good houses in this village, particularly Nor

ton Hall, which has been lately rebuilt. When Mr. Shore, the father of the present proprietor of Norton Hall, first possessed it, it was an ancient stone mansion, its principal front having a projection at each end and a recess in the centre. In an engraving of it now before me, which was published in 1793, from a drawing by Malton, the front of the old building is exhibited, together with the whole of the western wing, which was erected by the late Joseph Offley, Esq. who had it in contemplation to rebuild the remainder, and convert the whole into a modern mansion. This, however, was reserved for the present proprietor, Samuel Shore, Esq. to accomplish, who has not only carried the plans of his predecessors into execution, but has greatly extended and laid open the grounds about the house, and formed the whole into a range of beautiful park scenery, which is adorned with seats, alcoves, and occasional poetic inscriptions.

Through a plantation that borders these pleasant grounds, a circuitous walk, which belts the whole park, has been carried, to an extent of about two miles. Near the principal front of the house, where cultivated beauty most prevails, it enters into an open shrubbery composed of trees of the freshest and most luxuriant foliage, amongst which tufts of flowers, woodbines, and roses, are plenteously scattered. This walk leads to the Flower Garden, which is a rich collection of sweets that Flora herself might be proud to own. Leaving this lovely spot, the path proceeds through a grove of trees, whose tall trunks admit, from the many openings between, a distant view of more closely tangled foliage. It afterwards passes along the western verge of the park, crosses a small part of a verdant slope, and then dips into a romantic wood, which covers two sides of a deep and picturesque dell. On the right of the walk a sylvan grotto has been erected, composed of roots,

trunks, and branches of trees. At the back of a seat within, some poetic lines of considerable merit, by Mrs. Stokes of Chesterfield, are inscribed, but the composition is too long to be quoted here. From this place the walk is continued by the side of a fine sheet of water, where another wood-house is erected. In this secluded spot we observed the following lines, which I have before noticed as part of an inscription on a gravestone in Tideswell church-yard :

"Contemplate, as the sun declines,

Thy death with deep reflection,
And when again he rising shines,
Thy day of resurrection.",

The sylvan grot in which these lines are written should have faced the west; having nearly a northern aspect, they are not so appropriately situated as they might have been. From this place we returned again into the wood, and made our way over the trunks of fallen trees to another walk near the margin of the brook at the bottom of the dell, where, agreeably to the following poetic invitation from the pen of Miss Shore, we rested a few minutes before we proceeded to the higher part of the grounds :--

"Here, stranger, rest thee in this calm retreat,
Secure from winter's storms and summer's heat,
Let calm serenity possess thy mind,

And in this mossy seat contentment find."

From this "mossy seat" we pursued our way to where the two sides of the dell closely approach each other and form a picturesque glen shadowed over with dark yew tress, but enlivened with a little stream of water that has made a channel down the steep side of a

Picturesque Beech Tree.

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rocky bank, from which it falls into the hollow below. A long flight of steps leads from this part of the wood into the plantations above, which bound the northern extremity of the park. Here there is another alcove or resting-place for pedestrians, which on a clear summer's day affords a delightful shelter from heat and sunshine; but spring was now but little advanced, and it looked chill and uninviting within: we therefore passed it, and returned across the open part of the grounds to the west front of the house. Norton Park is well stored with stately trees: the oak and elm, and particularly the ash, find kindly nurture in the soil, and flourish in health and beauty, and about one hundred yards from the house, by the side of the carriage-road that leads to Little Norton, there is a noble beech, which extends its ample branches over an area of the circumference of more than seventy yards, and is of itself a picture for an artist. I have stood beneath the leafy canopy of this magnificent tree, and have sometimes traced with curious interest the various branches, from their connexion with the parent trunk, through numberless intermingling ramifications and intricate intersections, until their individuality was entirely lost, and their hundred arms terminated amongst a mass of surrounding foliage. This was certainly an idle amusement, yet it was one, and there are moments when the mind is prepared to extract pleasure from the most trivial circumstances, and derive instruction from appearances that on other occasions would pass entirely unnoticed; when it

"Finds tongues in trees, books in the running streams,
Sermons in stones, and good in every thing."

From Norton Park many openings occur that admit distant views of the country around. To the west, the hills of Beauchief are sin

10

View from Norton Park.

gularly beautiful, both in form and clothing, and Ecclesal Wood, which declines gently into the vale from the right of the landscape, is a very pleasing feature in the scene; beyond, the heathy moors of Derbyshire fill up the distance, which is often rich in colouring and picturesque with light and shadow. From these grounds some of the finest effects of nature are often presented when the sun is sinking in the west. At this particular time of the day, the moors that terminate the prospect are often seen reposing in a deep purple shadow, while the nearer objects, touched with the rays of the setting sun, are brilliantly lighted up with his departing effulgence.

At the short distance of one hundred yards from Mr. Shore's Park wall, is Norton House, a good old mansion, which in the year 1674 was the residence of Samuel Hallowes, Esq. who was then sheriff of the county, and afterwards of Robert Newton, Esq. Some years past this structure suffered considerably from neglect, but since it has been in the occupation of John Read, Esq. it has shared a better fate. The house, the gardens, and the grounds, have all been greatly improved by the taste of their present possessor. On the left of the lawn, near the front of Norton House, stands a fine old oak, which is venerable with years and highly picturesque in decay. It might have lived and flourished in " green old age" another century or two, had not the lightnings of heaven blighted its branches and shivered a part of its mighty trunk. The storm that moved over it has passed away, but traces of its devastation are left behind.

About a quarter of a mile from the village of Norton is the Oakes, a large old house that overlooks an extensive prospect, rich with wood, and hills, and dales. It is now unoccupied, and the symptoms of dis