I had expected to find this a coal begrimed place like Glasgow, and Preston and Birmingham, but on examining it this morning I was agreeably disappointed. It looks neat and quiet though thrifty. We visited the old Cathedral which has been almost now made into a parish church, since the diocese has been abandoned. The choir is still fine, bu the nave has been sacrificed. Dr Paley is buried here, an easy and clear writer without being a profound one. I do not find traces of any other noted person. We missed seeing the castle. Our course was by train to Penwith, and thence by posting to Keswick, in all about thirty six miles. It was cloudy, but the rain held up unt until we reached our destination. This is what is called the English Lake country. I was disappointed in the scenery on the way but the entrance into Keswick is very pretty. Here we met my sons Henry and Brooks who had left us at Glasgow five days ago. They had engaged lodgings for us at Portinscal two miles beyond, on Durwentwater, where we found ourselves comfortably all united at dinner. The clouds had gathered again and it rained.