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satisfied simply to admire the extended and varied picture gallery that nature presented to us free.

Except the striking prospect of Lincoln that we had towards the end of our dreamy stage, I can only now recall of it a confused memory of green and golden fields; of shady woods, beautiful with the many tints of autumn; of hedgerowed lanes, that in a less lazy mood we should certainly have explored; of picturesque old cottages and rambling time-toned farmsteads, the very picture of contentment; of silvery gliding streams, and a vague blue distance bounding all.

Passing through the long-streeted village of Langworth, a name derived, I take it, from the Anglo-Saxon "lang" long, and "worth" a street or place, so that it is suitably called,—the fine view of Lincoln Minster and city aforementioned was suddenly presented to us, a view not readily to be forgotten! There before us stood the ancient minster with its three stately towers crowning the steep hill that rises so finely and abruptly out of the clustering city below; the triple-towered fane dominating the whole in a truly medieval fashion. No feudal castle ever looked more masterful, or more lordly asserted its supremacy over the dwellings of the people. What a change from the early days when the Church, poor and persecuted like its Master, conquered the world by humility! That day we beheld the Church triumphant. There is no suggestion of poverty or humility about this majestic minster, but there is a plentiful suggestion of dignity and Christian (?) pride. The position of Lincoln Cathedral in stateliness is