Mr. URBAN, TH May 30: HE rough and rugged fcenes at and near Matlock have afforded fuch fcope to the powers of poetry, painting, and defcription, that I prefume fuch of your readers as have not been there may think very little more can be faid on the fubject. However, pray indulge me with a page in attempting to defcribe the road from Chefter. field to Workfworth. On a fultry day in Auguft laft I left Chesterfield, and for fome distance was amuled in paffing along a pleafant road, which at length began to rife and fall over hill and valley in a manner not altogether agree able; befides, the vegetation diminifhed, the trees were lefs, the luxuriant verdure of the level gave place to brown heath and ragged fiores, but, as I had not been to Matlock by this road before, I felt confoled in the hope of foon reaching the commencement of thole fcenes, at once the haunts of bufinefs, pleafure, and health; but as we are taught that, to reach any point of felicity, many dangers and fatigues must be encountered, fo, in the approach to Matlock, a gloomy variety prefents itfelf. From the tops of the rade mis fhapen maffes, fome of which are of great height, a great extent of country Ipreads before you, ftudded with Hardwicke, Bolfover, Cheferfield, Wingerworth, &c. &c. While I remained on the fummit, the air was fweet and re, freshing; I experienced the reviving fcents accumulated from myriads of plants. The valleys afford nothing but duft, and a most intolerable concentrated heat. The ftone-walls too break the little circulation of air that would otherwife prevail. So defolate is this part of. Derbyshire, that for fome miles I saw, but two or three habitations. What indeed but extreme wretchedness could induce a perfon to live exposed to the keen Northern blafts that whirl round those bleak rocks! After defcending an almost endless hill, the road makes an elbow, leaving Athover church to the left, which peeps beautifully among a groupe of trees; and here, for a mile or two, Nature gives a rough sketch of what the intends at Matlock. The right fide of the road (which now afcends) is moderately level, fcattered with cottages and trees; the left, a boid rock, adorned with many trees; now the road closing forms a dark paffage, composed by houses, trees, GENT. MAG. June, 1793. and rocks, cool and refreshing after a barren ride of upwards of eight miles. Here again the traveller foenis to leave the cheatful fociety of man; le plunges at once into a defart, not a tree or a bufh to relieve the black waving horizon. To make the fcene ftill more gloomy, the clouds grew dark, the fun affumed a fiery red, and, as I rode, the difmal tolling of a large beli faluted my ears. Not a mortal near me, the eve ning approaching, but that I was cer tain Matlock was not more than two miles before me, I fhould have been tempted to return, were it only for the comfort of again feeing a living creature befides my horfe. As the ground I was on was much higher than the Torr, or any of the hills at Matlock, I was at once furprized and delighted with a grand and awful fcene that expanded below me; all the rich profufion of wild Nature thrown together in an affemblage of objects the most fablime. To heighten the view, the Torr, and rocks near it, were covered with crowds of people. Never did man appear to me before in fo humiliating a ftate; contrafted with the vast piles of rock and mountain, he feemed diminifhed to a fpeck, an atom. My curi ofity was raifed to account for this, I had nearly faid, phænomenon; crowds on the fummits of places almost inac ceffible, never vifited but by an adventurous traveller or unlucky boy: sometimes, indeed, a ftraggling cow will advance to the verge of the rocks, and fnuff the air. Once I obferved one with its fore-feet fo near the edge of the Torr, that its neck and breaft were vifible from the road beneath. After viewing with delight this affemblage of Nature's works, I began to defcend, The way was now lined with houfes and, at each ftep, it was amuning to ob ferve Matlock hills rifing into confequence, tiil, reaching the bridge, they dilappear; when, turning, you view the road you have paffed winding up an uncultivated rugged hill, interfected by ftone-walls. The bridge is plain, firong, and in good repair. Much cannot be faid of the town; the houfes are comfortable, but much fcattered; the church is plain, except the tower, which is rather handfone; its fituation is hoe, on the top of a confiderable precipice; many trees grow on the abrupt edge, and at the bottom. Upon paffing the river, you enter the valley in which it glides; each fep adds to the beauty of the scene. The road winds close on the river, fometimes hid by a groupe of trees. The boat-houfe, placed under a rock, and overgrown with foliage, muft not pafs unnoticed, on viewing the vaft and extended wall which towers tremendous before you, unfhaken by time, though not impervious to perfevering man; for, many of the chafms in this pile afford paffages to mines, fome worked, fome neglected. To the right, as you proceed, the hill rifes to a great height, nearly uninterrupted by rocks; while the oppofite fide makes an acute angle, near which is the high Torr. This rock is of an amazing height, and nearly perpendicular; it is pointed at top. For a very great depth this rock is quite bare, and much smoother than any round it; the defcent then becomes lefs abrupt. At the foot a mine is worked which penetrates a great distance; a fhaft meets it from the furface, back of the Torr. The road was now nearly impaffable from the crowds of people and carriages; for, Sir Richard Arkwright's funeral paffed the Torr for Matlock church, where he is to lie till a chapel now erecting, and begun by him, fhall be finished. I no longer wondered at people on the rocks; a better opportunity of judging of the population of this place could not have offered, and it is furprisingly great. The ceremony was conducted with much pomp, and, as nearly as I can remember, was thus: a coach and four with the clergy; another with the pall-bearers; the hearfe covered with efcocheons, furrounded by mutes, followed; then the horfe of the deceased, led by a fervant; the relations, and about fifteen or twenty carriages, clofed the proceffion, which was perhaps half a mile in length. The evening was gloomy, and the folemn ftillness that reigned was only interrupted by the rumbling of the carriages, and the gentle murmurs of the river; and, as they paffed, the echo of the Torr gently returned the found. The whole was fo rich and uncommon, that I continued to gaze till a turn in the road clofed the whole. How greatly would the effect have been heightened by a choir chaunting a dirge! As I never entered thofe houfes of fashionable refort which are crowded with company, I fhall leave their excellences or defects to those who have. My ambition at Matlock has been to roam over precipices, to view the thunder-cloud peep, in luftre almost intolerable, from behind the hills, to fee it rife roll over roll, increafe, till, growing from dazzling white to impenetrable darknefs, the wind burfts tremendous down the val lev, bending trees before it, and emulating the hath notes of reverberated thunder, which at intervals increafes the horror. Such a variety is there at this place, that a particular defcription is next to impoffible. Imagine yourself on the hill, the river beneath, numberlefs trees in all the various forms that an obftructing rock or a want of fupport can occafion, a white rock towering far above you; the road now leading to Cromford makes a fudden turn close to it; a cotton-mill with a neat little turret furrounded by trees, the maffy wheel turning flowly, the water foaming from it; at fome diftance, Sir R. A kwright's houfe like a valt caftle, with its keep, &c, all embattled; farther, his mil's, Cromford bridge, and the new chapel; behind, a chain of hills partly covered with wood; oppofite the house, a huge rock fantastically adorned with fhrubs and trees through this rock the road is carried with much labour. Such is the fcene on leaving Matlock. Proceeding, a long rough hill, lined by new tone houfes, makes the traveller regret what he has left. Much to Sir Richard's credit, thofe habitations are most comfortable; and, if one may judge of profperity by the infolence met with on this hill (from those who had been to gape at the funeral), Turely Cromford is a happy place; but let it be understood, that I believe the holiday had produced this redundancy of wit. Alter an unpleafant ride over rough ways, which ftill are compenfated by the rich views of Matlock and Sir Richard Arkwright's houfe, I arrived at Hopton, the hofpitable manfion of Mr. Gell, much pleafed with my route. If it affords the fame gratification to your readers, my end will be anfwered. J. P. MALCOLM. ton, and grandfon to Timothy Felton, efq. of Felton, in Northumberland (af. terwards feated at Ovington, in Effex, and related to thofe of the name in Suf folk), was born Feb. 3, 1679, in the parish of St. Martin in the Fields; edu cated rft at Cheyneys, in Buckinghamshire; afterwards fucceffively at Westminster (under Dr. Shirley) the Charter-houfe (under Dr. Walker), and Edmund-hal, Oxford (where his tutor was Dr. Mills, afterwards B fhop of Waterford). Whilft a member of that hall, he took the degree of M. A. June 5, 1702; was ordained deacon that year, Dec. 6, at Whitehall, by Bp. Loyd and' prieft, June 11, 1704. In 1708, he had the care of the English church at Amfterdam; and, foon after bis return into England, took the degree of B.D. June 11, 1709, being then a member of Queen's college, Oxford. He was domeftic chaplain to the Duke of Rutland at Belvoir caftle, where he continued chaplain to three fucceffive dukes; and to the third of them, whilft Lord Roos, addreffed his excellent "Differtation on reading the Clafficks, and forming a juft Style." He publithed, in 1711, "The Hope of Chriftians an Argument of Comfort for their Death; a Sermon preached at the Funeral of His Grace the Duke of Rutland, who was interied at Bottesford, Feb. 23, 1710-11. By Henry Felton, B D. of Queen's College, Oxford." In a Dedication to his Grace's fon and fucceffor in his honours and eftate, Mr. Felton expreffes his acknowledgements for the favours he had received from the illuftrious family of the Duke, by whom he was, in 1711, prefented to the rectory of Whitwell, in Derbyshire. He took the degree of D. D. July 4, 1712; in April, 1722, on the death of Dr. Pearfon, was admitted principal of Ed. mund-ball; and on Eafter Monday, 1725, preached before the University a fermon, which he printed under the title of "The fame numerical Body, and its Re-union to the fame Soul." In 1727, he published A Difcourfe concerning the Univerfality and Order of the Refurrection; being a Sequel to that wherein the Perional Identity is alferted," 8vo; and, in 1933, "The Common People taught to detend their Communion with the Church of England against the Attempts and Infius tions of Popith Emiffaries. In a Dialogue between a Popith Pricft and a plain Countryman," 8vo. To each of the three beforementioned tracts is prefixed a Dedication to Bp. Chandler. By the king, as duke of Lancaster, Dr. Felton was prefented. in 1736, to the valuable living of Barwick, otherwife Berewicke, in Elmet, Yorkshire, through the intereft of his noble pupil, who had become chancellor of the dutchy of Lancaster in 1727. He pubished eight fermons at Lady Mover's lecture, 1738; and feven other fingle fermons. In October, 1739, he was feized with a rheumatic diforder, and, after a long confinement, was fo well recovered, that he thought himself able to officiate in his church at Berwick on Chriftmasday, when he preached his laft fermon; and, though he was greatly weakened by his long inefs, he exerted him felf in his difcourfe, and spoke with his ufual fervour and affection. Having taken cold, he was foon difordered with a defluxion, attended with a violent fever. He was very fenfible of his ap proaching change, made the neceffary preparation for it, and behaved, under his long and painful fickness, with a refignation and piety becoming a Chriftian; and, when he was too weak for utterance, it was vifible that he was continually lifting up his heart to God. He had before fignified by writing, that his laft prayers would be to commend his fpirit unto God; and defired others, upon the approach of his change, to pray for the fate and happy departure of his foul. Thus he died in the faith, March 1, 1739, being a few weeks advanc d into the 61st year of his life. He was interred in the chancel of the church of Berwick, within the communion-rails. According to his defire, there is no epitaph or infcrip tion upon his grave. A pofthumous volume of "Sermons on the Creation, Fall, and Redemption, of Man," was published by his ion, William Fenton, MA in 1748; with a Pietace, whence the greater part of thefe particulars is extracted. Dr. Felton compofed there fermons about the year 1730, and preached them in his parith-church at Whitwell in that and the following year; and, in 1733, enlarged them, and delivered them again in the fame church. In 1736, being removed to the rectory of Berwick, he trantcribed and preached them there in that and the to lowing year. They were written at a time when his judgement was in ful maturity, and his mind improved by a long acquaintance with the deft authorsi authors; and are not unequal to the reft of his performances, nor inferior to the ftle and fpirit with which he wrote in his younger years. He gave them to his fon during his. laft illness, and had before frequently declared his intention that they should be published. Thofe which he had left upon the Refurrection he did not think of fufficient merit to be colle&ted; nor any others which he had preached before the University. fed, the fpirit of piety with which it is ani- vindicated and illuftrated it with the cle reit Mr. URBAN, As Dr. Felton has happily delineated the character of fome of the most emi-N compliance with the commands of nent English writers, it may be amusing to your readers, Mr. Urban, to perufe a character of himfelf, drawn up by the pen of filial piety; Authors, as well as men, are imperfect; and no one was ever more fenfible of his imperfections than this author, or a more candid judge of the writings of others, or a more kind interpreter of their actions. He was the farthest from expreffing any thing which might look like rudeness or incivility; his language was, on all occafions, polite and agreeable, and always fhewed that good manners which is the mark of goed breeding, good fenfe, and Chriftian courtesy. He hah The wed a perfect mastery of the English tongue both in the force and purity of his diction; and his ftyle was always fuitable to his fubject. He managed the argumentative part with the greateft clearness and accuracy, and propriety of expreffion; his fentences were plain and grave, where ornament was not required; and upon proper occafions he rofe into a majefty of style, and was eleva ted with his fubject, especially when he difcourfed upon the fublime topicks of Scripture. He wrote with the greatest eafe, freedom, and fluency, and was, at the fame time, correct, perfpicuous, and happy, in his expreilions: he had a command of his fubject, and of proper words to cloath his thoughts in: he had the art of forming the fever parts of his difcourfe in the most natural order, and cafy connexion, and finished the whole with elegance, ftrength, and fpirit. His elocution in the pulpit was grave and harmonious, and wanted not a juft energy; and his fubjects were fo well chofen and unportant, that his fermons carried a weight and a hority which became a preacher of the Gospel. He was a zealous defeer of the truth of Chriftunity, and of its found doctrines, against those who either meant to overthrow or corrupt it; and he anfwered their bj ios n their fcoffs with fuperior force of argument and wi. [ must not omit to mention, that he read pray ers in the most no: er manner, and delighted to perform that office. He read with fuch graceful folemnity and devotion as fet off the beauty of our excellent Liturgy, and expref mv fuperiors, I have lately been engaged in foliciting a contribution for the dftreffed French clergy, refugees in this kingdom, in a place which fwarms with Prefbyterians and Independants. But how were my feelings wounded by these fancied favourites of Heaven, when one of them fignified, that no charity was due to the perfons for whom I was an humble petitioner, because they were Roman Catholicks; when another faid, that they were not entitled to any compaffion, because they had been enemics: when another, being asked for a little money, replied, "I would fooner give them poifon;" and another, on the fame occafion, cried out, "I would drive them all into the fea!" Know, however, deluded men, that the affair, which I have recommended to your charity, hath excited the pity of the benevolent by a train of circumftances which evidently point out a cafe of the moft pitiable neceflity and difirefs. Many thousands of thefe afflicted frangers, deprived of the common fupports and comforts of life by a moft cruel and oppreffive faction, driven from their native country by the most dreadful perfecutions, have efcaped to this friendly thore; where they have been relieved with a liberality, which, taught by the Chriftian religion, and nobly dudaining the confideration of former animofity or prefent difference of opinion, reflects the highet honour on the character of Englishmen. Impoffible it is to defcribe the grief which these unhappy perfons must have experienced; forced to quit the fpot on which they had long ferved their God according to the dictates of their confcience, torn from their nearest and dearest friends upon earth, and, by a fudden, melancholy, turn of affairs, reduced from an affluent, at least a comfortable, condi tion, to a moft indigent and deplorable fituation. Amongst these undoubted objects |