It is a remarkable sight from the railway as you approach the town from a distance.

If it may be said reverently, the church, standing on comparatively a hill, not only lifts its horn on high, but one like that of a rhinoceros, considerably curved.

Just outside the town stands the house in which George Stephenson lived his last days, and ended his great life of benefaction to mankind; leaving upon that haloed spot a _biograph_ which the ages of time to come shall not wash out.
From Chesterfield I diverged westward to see Chatsworth and Haddon Hall.

Whoever makes this walk or ride, let him be sure to stop at Watch Hill on the way, and look at the view eastward.

It is grander than that of Belvoir Vale, if not so beautiful.
It was a pleasure quite equal to my anticipation to visit Chatsworth for the first time, after a sojourn in England, off and on, for sixteen years.