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uneven; and a sort of little Apennine ridge runs through the middle of it, falling down in all shapes into the water, like its great mother island; the southern part wears a smoother aspect than the northern, which is broken and rocky. A more sequestered spot cannot easily be conceived. Nothing can be more excluded from the noise and interruption of life, or abound with a greater variety of those circumstances which make retirement pleasing.

Formerly the whole island was one entire grove; at present it is rather bare of wood, though there are some large oaks upon it. One of its greatest beauties arises from that irregular little Apennine just mentioned, which extends from one end to the other; this circumstance hides its insularity, by connecting it with the continent. In every part, except on the high grounds, you stand in an amphitheatre, composed of the noblest objects, and the lake performing the office of a sunk fence.

This island belonged formerly to the Philipsons, a family of note in Westmoreland. During the civil wars, two of them, an elder and a younger brother, served the King. The former, who was the proprietor of it, commanded a regiment; the latter was a major.

The major, whose name was Robert, was a man of great spirit and enterprize, and for his many feats of personal bravery, had obtained, among the Oliverians of those parts, the apellation of Kobin the Devil. After the war subsided, Colonel Briggs, a steady friend to the usurpation, residing at Kendal, under the double character of a justice and an active commander, held the county in awe. This person having heard that Major Philipson was at his brother's, in the island of Windermere, resolved if possible, to seize and punish a man, who had made himself so particularly obnoxious. Major Philipson endured a seige of eight or ten days, with great gallantry, till his brother, the colonel,

who was at that time from home, hearing of his distress, raised a party and relieved him.

It was now the major's turn to make reprisals. He put himself at the head of a small troop of horse, and rode to Kendal. Being informed that Colonel Briggs was at prayers, he stationed his men properly in the avenues, and himself, armed, rode directly into the church.

Whatever his intention was, it was frustrated; for the colonel happened not to be there. The congregation, as might be expected, was thrown into great confusion, and the major, taking advantage of their astonishment, turned his horse round, and rode quietly out of the church; but having given an alarm, he was presently assaulted, and being seized, his girths were cut, and himself unhorsed. At this instant, his party made a furious attack on the assailants, and the major, killing with his own hand, the man who had seized him, clapped the saddle (ungirthed as it was)

upon the horse, and vaulting into it, rode full speed through the streets of Kendal, calling to his man to follow him, and with his whole party made a safe retreat to his asylum in the lake-the action marked the man-many knew him, and they who did not, knew as well from the exploit, that it could be no one, but Robin the Devil.

ANECDOTE.

Doctor Schmidt, of the cathedral of Berlin, wrote a letter to the King of Prussia, couched in the following terms:

SIRE,

"I acquaint your Majesty; first, that there are wanting Books of Psalms for the Royal Family-I acquaint your Majesty, secondly, that there wants Wood to warm the Royal Seats-Thirdly, that the Ballustrade next to the river, behind the church, is become ruinous.

SCHMIDT,

Sacrist of the Cathedral."

The King, who was much amused by the above, wrote the following answer :

"I acquaint Mr. Sacrist Schmidt, first, that those who want to sing

may buy books.. Secondly, Mr. Sacrist Schmidt, that those who want to be kept warm, must buy wood. Thirdly, that I shall not trust any longer to the ballustrades next the river; and I acquaint Mr. Sacrist Schmidt-fourthly, that I will not have any further correspondence with him."

ANECDOTE.

The late King George, was remarkably fond of seeing the play of King Henry VIII. which had something in it, which hit the taste of that sagacious Monarch; for one night, being very attentive to that part of the play where Harry VIII. commands his Minister Wolsey, to write circular letters of indemnity, to every county, where the payment of certain heavy taxes had been disputed, and remark

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