a young woman rather a slippery trick. quiet living sleep, and not death. This A lady's-maid, of all persons in the is an inspiring time to the artist ;- his world the one that has no business to imagination is awake, and he feels the stand upon a precipice, lost her footing silent blessing both of Nature and of while looking over the abyss, and was Art. The inn is large, the accommoborne down a frightful depth, but her dation in every respect excellent. The dress spreading out like a parachute, Duke of Newcastle is expending large she was no otherwise injured than by sums to make it a large and first-rate being lodged in the black pool, and hotel. The building is not offensive terribly frightened. After some de- to the scenery, perhaps quite otherlay, ropes were procured and cast wise, though it may not bear too strict down; but in the hurry, no proper an architectural scrutiny. The roof noose was made, so that, wliile they is in the style of the Swiss cottage; not were drawing her up as she clung to so the other parts of the building—yet, it with her hands, her strength failed when finished, it may have a good her and down she fell again. But now effect; and its situation immediately a boy had contrived to work his way over the abyss is greatly in its favour, down, and rescued her, by placing for the view from the windows is very her insensibly in a secure place until fine. This scene was not improved by more effectual assistance was procured. a morning view, and less so at mid. The poor creature long suffered, as we day. It is certainly most beautiful tounderstood, from the effects of the peril. wards evening, when a broad shadow At the time we arrived at the inn, is over the whole depth, and the tops the shadows had extended over the of the mountains are partially lighted whole depth, and about three parts up. Scenery of this kind at mid-day up the side of the precipitous hill, is seldom seen to any advantage : at above which the more distant moun. that time it requires large and moving tain range was seen. The partially clouds, that by their bold shadows secoppice-covered rocks were of a beau parate the interfoldings, and give distiful colour, a warm brown, and the tance and character. A beautiful spot, coppice so indistinct that it was not therefore, should not be seen once, very easy to discover that trees were and left; the true admirer of nature, there. In the midst, and at some dis- and particularly the artist, will soon tance within the ravine, was a deep acquire a knowledge, by his study of dark pool, into which a cascade, but lines and the aspect of the scenery, of no great height, was pouring its of the changes that must affect it white water, and we could just dis- in the sun's course. It makes all cover that it was in motion. The the difference whether shadows come whole scene looked grand, large, and from the right or the left, from solemn; there was enough positive the back or front, when the objects light to show some of the prominent that cast them are on all sides unforms, which, by their divisions, made equal. It is a great thing to know the mass of hill and rock appear to its where it may be worth while to stop, full height; but afterwards, when the not judging from the present effect, sun had sunk lower and the whole was which may often be bad, and such as in shade, the grandeur was gone. As may disguise, for the time, great natutoo much direct light gives a mean- ral beauties. Who has not been surness by the innumerable divisions and prised into admiration, returning in subdivisions it exposes, thus destroy- an evening over the very ground he ing the scene as a whole, so too little had passed in the morning with light has the same effect by a different weariness and distaste ? It is far operation, by removing all comparison better to remain at one beautiful spot, of part with part, and thus reducing days, and even weeks, than to run the whole. We think here Nature post-haste from spot to spot, the mind gave a lesson to artists; herein is con- overwhelmed with vague recollections, tained a principle for application and the portfolio crammed with im. And now night has closed in, a lovely perfect studies--when ten to one but tranquil: night. Look out of window the very best subjects for admiration the hills, or rather mountains, have or study are left unvisited, and often, folded themselves into smaller com- - when visited, unseen. pass, are asleep-the stars sentinel We regret that our stay was necessathem, and the distant sound of the rily short; yet we are but “ the lion's falling waters assure you that all is provider," to lead the way, and do not hesitate to recommend the Devil's variety of form and colour. The first Bridge as a place of sojourn. Not very fall of magnitude would make a magfar from the inn, and facing it, having nificent picture, if the direction of the crossed the bridge, are some very fine fall itself were not unfortunate. Were .views of the general scenery. We were there a more full body of water, it in the broad sun; it was too much cut might break over the rock in various up into detail for work; we therefore ways; with the present scant stream, made our way down to the black it is too much directly across the piewater we had seen from the inn win- ture, and as if in a cut channel. The dow, and here we sketched, though background is very fine ; a large hol. not much to our satisfaction. Our low, behind and above the water, formfriend was more successful, but in ing a wooded basin, surmounted by another line, for the trout came out of some pine- trees, above and partly the dark water, sparkling beautifully, through the branches of which the inn at his bidding. But here were fine is not unpicturesquely seen, and the subjects : bold masses of stone, that younger trees that shoot out their had been storm-cast from the cliffs, tender foliage into the hollow, give were in the clearest water, here shal. magnitude to the whole. This fall low and there deep; above them the terminates in very dark water, nearly small fall, and above that the high surrounded by deeply-coloured precimountain sides, rock and coppice pitous rocks, among which there are intermingled. Here we were de some of an ochrey colour, that give a lighted with a sort of ballet exhibi- very marked relief to the depth of the tion. Two very large kites flew into water. the area between the cliffs, from over But by far the most striking fall the top to the right, and magnificently is that below “the Robber's Cave" and gracefully sported; it was what a a cavern of no great depth ; and dance on wings may be imagined to be, where, it is said, a robber once lived by free creatures in their utmost joy. with, we believe, two companions, a After a while, another swept over the sister and another female. The habi. opposite cliff, and came sailing in his tation must have been very small for glory among them, and they joined, three persons, but certainly very safe varied their figure, and performed a from surprise. It is said that, one wonderful ballet. Sometimes they having betrayed the watchword, the seemed burlesquing what we have robber was taken; he had committed seen in a theatre-retreating and com- a murder. A more savage scene can ing in again, and with a new vagary. hardly be conceived close to the roar We afterwards learnt that these crea- and perpetualdampness of the cataract, tures are remarkably fine, and peculiar a precipice before it, with only one, to the place. The kite is a noble bird ; and that a dangerous, access. What they possess the mountains, like fea.. a place wherein to meditate on crime ! thered princes. Retracing our steps, crime for crime's sake ; for here could we returned to the inn, passed through' be none of the usual enticements a little gate, and behold the two joyless, unsocial home! From this bridges one over the other ! The depth cave we descended, something like a here does not look very appalling, path, or rather footing, being now probably not so great as it really is. made in the descent, to a ledge of rock, · From immediately below this bridge, - through a narrow passage in which the falls commence; we had seen the water has found its When them from the opposite hill, but had in full volume, we suppose this whole little conception of their beauty until mass is covered with water, and the we came near them. It is one stream, < scene must be very grand. Yet we but several falls. The volume of had some advantage in seeing it in its water was not great: we are not cer- - present state, as we were enabled to tain if this was not an advantage, for . reach what at other times might be the there was enough to be very fine, and centre of the channel; and thus we had we saw more of the roek than we the fall in its recess, and immediately should have done had it been entirely before us. The masses are large and covered by larger cascades, and we very bold, the water even now being had better views of the wonderful very grand, and though one as a catar. scoopings it had at other times made act, broken into unequal and fine parts. in the rocky beds, which were now The water seemspouring down from the seen to great advantage under every sky, as the higher ground is not seen ; way. a a a few feet only from the great brow under the high woods, that we sus. of the huge mass—the brow, that as it pect it will not afford much variety were conceals under it the roof, is the for the painter. As a seat, Hafod is cavern, dark and gloomy; at its edge finely situated ; yet, though there is some rich-coloured fern is growing, plenty of wood, it wants shelter. which makes the gloom the greater. There do not appear any deep glens The sweeping lines of the rock are in which you could embower yourself very grand, their breaking being only in shade : the heat of the day was at the cataract, where great frag- oppressive, which made us look for this ments jut out boldly into the foam, cool repose—thegreat beauty, after all, and around them the water thunders. of landscape. We read what has been The ledge which forms the foreground said of Hafod in the guide-books, and is divided into many channels, though thought there was much exaggeration. now dry, and runs upwards to the We do not presume to be judges of right, forming a pass to the upper architecture beyond its effect upon the rock, yet marking its magnitude by artist's eye, and its agreement with the the division. The sky above the scenery around it. It would be difficataract is broken by some bold trees, cult to define its order : it is not Goor rather trunks of trees, for there thic, it is not Venetian, nor Turkish, was scarcely any foliage on them. but a mixture of all. The little obeThis scene would make a very fine lisks, two to each pinnacle, look very picture in the hands of a skilful artist. little indeed. It is fair to say, that as Still lower, there may be even a finer it is undergoing great alterations, and subject. As we intended visiting the is partly boarded up, it must be imposspot again, we did not attempt the sible to judge of it as a whole. It is at descent--and now regret we left the present in a semi-neglected state. We Devil's Bridge without reaching the walked to the flower-garden, or what extreme depth of this awful place. was the flower-garden, and returned The colour of the rock is well suited with melancholy reflections. For whom to the grandeur of the scene. The was it made, how was it cherished, and artist will not be content with general how desolate is it?-a deserted ruined views; he will find an infinite variety garden is at all times a dire, a dismal of detail to occupy much of his time, sight. There is a trifling matter here and fill his portfolio with advantage. that gave offence to the imagination, Nothing can be easier of access—it is by rudely snapping its finest chain. close to the inn, where he can have There are some carved grotesque the very best accommodation, and, if heads in the doorways entering this he pleases, on terms of boarding. We garden. The sculptor had cut, large spent two days here, before we pro- enough to catch the eye, the date, and ceeded to Hafod. “ London," and probably his name, for The road lies still among moun- part was obliterated. Who, in such tains-about five miles, or scarcely a spot, would wish to be reminded of so much, half up hill and half London, or Bath, or marble-cutters' down. Shall we venture to say we yards—or desire to know that these were disappointed in Hafod? We heads came from any part of the world had come from almost savage wild but the garden--or that they were not ness, and were not prepared to see left there by the genii of the garden, mountains dressed. The great ex. whose creation the whole circumfertensive ranges of wood are very fine, ence should be? Another remark, in and not the less striking from the our architectural ignorance, we will freshness, the youth, yet fulness venture to make. There is something of the trees; the woods are trees, not pleasing in seeing bright freestonenot coppice, but they are not of that yellow buildings arise, where there is massy, matted growth we are accus- nothing of the kind in the soil to harmo. tomed to see in old dressed places. nize with them. Should not houses in We have vigour for antiquity-each the country be Autoxboves—as if they has its peculiar charm. You see at sprung from the ground-should they once you are upon the very verge of not be of the stone of the country, or as extreme barrenness; the high woods, much like the stone of the country as at their summits and nearly at their possible? The eye cannot be deluded, base, terminating, or rather flowing and is sensible of an intruder nature off, into wild mountain. The river never intended to be seen there. It is was very low-it is so immediately like a woman with false hair, which, though it may be better than her own, were surprised to see an odd, fantasticnever looks so well, and pretty surely looking semi-castle building, erected mars her beauty. Would not Hafod be by, above all persons in the world, the better of another colour? Its lightness late Sir Uvedale Price! How very ill accords with the wild majesty of strange!“ Aliquando bonus dormitat.” the mountain dominion in the centre Hour about five o'clock-looking on of which it is placed. It was very the sea. Never saw we any thing singular at such a season of the year more lovely-never any colouring of to see so brown a hue. The oaks had nature that more convinced us of the been frost-bitten, and the leaves truth of Claude's Embarkation of St crumbled into dust under the hand Ursula, and his other marine subjects. it had the strange effect of blending Nearly the whole of the sea, to the summer and autumn in one landscape. horizon, lighter than the sky Is the mixture of the Scotch fir with and yet that is not dark, but all luoaks and other forest trees in good minous-the whole expanse of water taste ? Even the firs in such cases seem of a warm grey, changing occasion- to lose their natural character, and ally into the most tender green. The look too spruce. High-rising trees sun, which is yet high up, flashes should not be placed among lower and about the edged clouds, and down spreading—they hurt each other below them, a purple grey, tipped making one too low, and the other too with brightest gold. Now, there are high. Scotch firs are not to be de- more distant clouds immediately unspised; they make grand dark-shading der the others, half obscured in haze, woods—they have a gigantic person-. edges brilliant. They must be thunality about them, when grown to any der clouds--the most azure blue, if we size, and proudly centinel a domain. might call it by the name of one Their gloom is awful ; and when the colour, is above. Immediately below sun is behind them, and just gleams the sun's pavilion the blue is lost in a partially through them, the effect is thicker atmosphere, almost of a greenmagical; and how wonderfully, by ish hue, and that melts off into a warm their depth of colour, they throw off luminous grey, in which the red is the azures, and set off the warmer tints very discernible, and from the sun. of nearer distances! cloud, as from a centre, broad bands We have left Hafod; and all on of shadow spread abroad, reaching the our way to Aberystwith, ranges and water to its utmost verge. ranges of mountain again and again without a wave,- but a gentle ripple present themselves--all fine. With- plays about the shore, here edged with, in sight of Aberystwith, they gra- and throwing off, drops of the purest dually lower on all sides, and at gold. Starting distinct from the their bases lies in rich beauty an ex- grey, there is a mass of the sun's light tensive valley, through which the river upon the very centre of the sea, but winds, and loses itself-or at least it it is interrupted by a grey streak, and did to our view-in an ultramarine, does not quite reach theshore-a rocky yet warm, baze, that flooded with azure ledge or two seems to run out, as it light the whole vale. The first burst were, to meet and salute it, and that of this view, with the great arms of alone is dark. Bebind us lay the the mountain stretching down into the large and shattered fragments of the depth before us, would make a very old castle, the ruins of which, particufine subject for a picture, and would larly the tall upright tower, are still well suit Copley Fielding's water-col- fine. Aberystwith did not seem to ours. Why do they do their utmost have much company. These sort of to make all sea bathing places look as places are all alike-a semicircular hot as possible? Facing the unmiti. range of yellow or white lodginggated sun we have houses, and a whole houses, facing the sea- -white painted range of them, as hot as yellow ochre bathing machines on the beachcan make them. Seek for shelter in- loungers about the seats, smoking ciside, and you have little shade-the sun gars—and ladies, by twos and threes, still persecutes you there--curtains in green veils, poking among the and carpet are sure to be red-you fly pebbles with the ends of their parasols. from the yellow to the scarlet fever. Our piscator friend was very busy Aberystwith seems a poor place, ex- making enquiry respecting some fish cepting where the company—the gen- said to be caught and catchable here try lodging-houses are built. We with the rod and line. To him it The sea, HILL OF MILLSLADE seemed a wonderful thing to us, who single otter," said he, “ will consume had never hooked but one fish, and a ton of fish in a year;" and, while that in the side, it did not sound won- speaking, he referred to a paper in his derful at all, remembering more of fishing-book. We observed one side Homer than of Isaac Walton. of it denoted rhyme. “ Ab,” said he, We did not remain at Aberystwith. when questioned, “for nearly forty On our return to the mountains we years have I had many a fishing day went to a very neat newly-built church, with old Will Hill of Millslade, and the exterior of which reminded us of being at the lonely but comfortable Italy. The service was in Welsh, little inn there the other day, my old the sermon in English ; the Welsh we haunt, I thought over the days past; thought must be a powerful language; and I suppose a thankful heart, and no we imagined it to be in sound be- one to tell it out to, makes a happy tween Greek and German. The de- man a rhymster, if not a happy rhym. meanour and devotion of the congre. ster, and so I made my trial. Here gation was very gratifying, and the it is. I am as prond of dedicating my extreme reatness and cleanness of their verse to poor old Will Hill, as Pindar persons. A retired tradesman from his to Hiero. So here goes :Aberystwith, with great civility, offered us seats; and, when the service was TO MY OLD FISHING COMPANION, WILL over, conversed with us with great natural politeness and simplicity. He Old Will with thee, told us his condition, showed us his gar In youth and glee, den, and offered the use of his stable I've spent some sunny hours ; should we at any time revisit the But now, I fear, place for the sake of fishing. The The winter drear manners of the Welsh in these parts Of age upon us lowers, is very pleasing, and their intelligent way of speaking very much above that Yet still a dish of the generality in England. They are We catch of fish, unaffected, simple, and single-mind. As well as some that brag ; ed people, and are not contaminated No more we ply by that bane to morality, the beer- The treacherous fly, shop. They are the very reverse of The brandling fills the bag. “the vulgar.” The sermon, wbich Here in this glen, was in English, was very good; and, Apart from men, had the preacher paid more attention We lift our grateful hearts; to stops, would have been more effec And feel the joy, tive. "He read it as if English had Without alloy, been an acquired language. His That Nature wild imparts. Welsh seemed to flow naturally, gracefully, and powerfully. The following From Providence, day our friend hoped to have some Our confidence, fishing at Rhayader, as there had been This boon we anglers crave, rain; and, as we had closed our port That we anon folios, we gave ourselves up to his Mayangle on amusement if we might be found Safe to a peaceful grave. worthy to carry his basket. It would “ Come, then," continued he, « let not do. The fish were not to be We saw some fine otter for his verse us to the inn," and as if to apologise caught. hounds; coarse, wiry, strong animals, “Dulce est de-sipere in loco." that would bear as well as give a bite and a tug under or above water. So let us, like true artist and piscaOur friend was eloquent upon the sub- tor, sip our souchong, and be wise ject, and described many an otter hunt, enough to play the fool after our inand made the description more inter- nocent fashion. esting by his calculation of the mischief Finis chartæque viæque. these amphibious creatures do, “A |