[In pencil on opposite page—­Mr. Pearson.] In the solitude of Grasmere, while living as a married man in a cottage of 8_l._ per annum rent, I often used to smile at the tales which reached me of the brilliant career of this quondam clown—­for such in reality he was, in manners and appearance, before he was polished a little by attrition with gentlemen’s sons trained at Hawkshead, rough and rude as many of our families were.  Not 200 yards from the cottage in Grasmere just mentioned, to which I retired, this gentleman, who many years afterwards purchased a small estate in the neighbourhood, is now erecting a boat-house, with an upper story to be resorted to as an entertaining room when he and his associates may feel inclined to take their pastime on the Lake.  Every passenger will be disgusted with the sight of this edifice, not merely as a tasteless thing in itself, but as utterly out of place, and peculiarly fitted, as far as it is observed (and it obtrudes itself on notice at every point of view), to mar the beauty and destroy the pastoral simplicity of the Vale.  For my own part, and that of my household, it is our utter detestation, standing by a shore to which, before the high road was made to pass that way, we used daily and hourly to repair for seclusion and for the shelter of a grove, under which I composed many of my poems—­the ‘Brothers’ especially; and for this reason we gave the grove that name.  ’That which each man loved and prized in his peculiar nook of earth dies with him or is changed.’  So much for my old schoolfellow and his exploits.  I will only add that, as the foundation has twice failed, from the Lake no doubt being intolerant of the intrusion, there is some ground for hoping that the impertinent structure will not stand.  It has been rebuilt in somewhat better taste, and much as one wishes it away, it is not now so very unsightly.  The structure is an emblem of the man.  Perseverance has conquered difficulties, and given something of form and polish to rudeness. [In pencil on opposite page—­This boat-house, badly built, gave way, and was rebuilt.  It again tumbled, and was a third time reconstructed, but in a better fashion than before.  It is not now, per se, an ugly building, however obtrusive it may be.]

The Miner, next described as having found his treasure after twice ten years of labour, lived in Paterdale, and the story is true to the letter.  It seems to me, however, rather remarkable, that the strength of mind which had supported him through his long unrewarded labour, did not enable him to bear its successful issue.  Several times in the course of my life I have heard of sudden influxes of great wealth being followed by derangement; and, in one instance, the shock of good fortune was so great as to produce absolute idiotcy.  But these all happened where there had been little or no previous effort to acquire the riches, and therefore such a consequence might the more naturally be expected, than in the case of the solitary miner.  In reviewing his story, one cannot but regret that such perseverance was not sustained by a worthier object.  Archimedes leaped out of his bath and ran about the streets, proclaiming his discovery in a transport of joy; but we are not told that he lost either his life or his senses in consequence.