sensations of terror ran coldly through our veins, which we should have felt if we had looked down, though secure, from its lofty top. Nothing, however, fell upon us, but a few large drops, which sweat from out its horrid prominent front. Some goats frisked about, with seemingly a wanton carelessness, on the brink of this dreadful precipice, where none or us would have stood for all the pleasant vales wash.d by the river Air. Some lines in Virgil's Eclogues seemed to receive additional beauties when repeated in this grotesque scene.—

Non ego vos posthac, viridi projectus in antro,
Dumosa pendere procul de rupe videbo.

Ecl. 1. 1. 76.

No more extended in the grot below,
Shall I e'er see my goats high up the brow,
Eating the prickly shrubs, or void of care,
Lean down the precipice, and hang in air-

A little higher up is a fine cascade, where the river, striving for an easier and gentler descent, has forced a way through the rocks, leaving a rude natural arch remaining above. If a painter wanted to embellish his drawing of this romantic scene with some grotesque object, he could add nothing which would suit his purpose better, if nature had not done the work for him.

* From Gordale we proceeded to a curious lake, called Maum or Malham-Tarn, abounding with fine trout, upon the top of the moor; and from thence, by Kilsey-Crag, to Grassington, on the banks of the river Wharf. Coming unexpectedly to the crags of Kilsey, I was a good deal amazed at the

If Kilsey-crag should not be thought an object worth going six or seven miles to see, the best way from Gordale to Skipton will be by Kirkby, Malhamdale, and Gargrave.

prospect. They are by the side of the vale along which descends the river Wharf. Like those at Giggleswick, they extend in a line to some distance; but are higher and more prominent. The road we came along wound down amongst these crags, so that we were presented with a full view of them on a sudden, which caused the greater surprize.—After having refreshed ourselves at Grassington, we travelled about nine miles farther, and came to Skipton. The country all around us is uneven and rugged; the vales are fertile on the surface, and the mountains beneath it abound with rich mines of lead. After we had visited the castle (which belongs to the Earl of Thanet) and the curious canal behind it, above the mills, which leads to the limestone quarry, by the side o a romantic deep glen, we left Skipton. Before our departure we were for some time in doubt, whether we should ascend the steep and black hill of Rombaldsmoor, and so proceed down the vale of Whardale, one of the pleasantest in England, to Otley, and so to Leeds; or go by Keighly, Bingly, and Bradford, along the side of the new canal, and view the locks and other contrivances on this new and useful work of art. Most of us having been the former road, and this with its objects being quite new, we were induced to proceed along it. At Kildwick, about four miles from Skipton, we passed under this aqueduct, where it was banked up a great height above the adjoining lands, at a vast labour and expense. There have been some violent struggles between the elements of earth and water-the mounds have not always been able to keep the water within its proper limits, they having oftener than once been broken through by the pressure on their sides. About a mile further, at Steeton, we could not but observe the steep ascent and descent of the road over a hill, when a level path might have been made almost equally near along the side of the river. The inconveniences that must attend carriage in carts and waggons from such ill-concerted roads, perhaps might suggest the expediency of a canal. The use and practicability of such an undertaking in a mountainous country, one would imagine, might give the inhabitants a hint to make their roads wind with easy ascents and descent

along the sides of the vale. From Skipton to Otley, the road is carried up and down the corner of the steep mountain Rombaldsmoor, when as near a one might have been conducted along the vale beneath. The inhabitants might have carried to the market the produce of their lands, and brought coals and manure at a little expense, if this plan had been adopted: but the prejudices against improvements and innovations are not easily removed.-At Bingly we were entertained with the locks: there are five or six of them together, where the barges ascend or descend eighty or ninety feet perpendicular, in the distance of about an hundred yards. They are elegant and well finished, but seem too deep not to leak and be frequently out of repair.

About four miles before we arrived at Leeds, in our way from Bradford, we were suddenly presented with the grand and venerable ruins of Kirkstal Abbey, full in view from the road. We stood some minutes looking with silent respect and reverence on the havoc which had been made by time on this sacred edifice. How much soever we might condemn the mistaken notions of monkish piety, that induced the devotees to lethargic supineness, and to forsake all the social duties of life in order to be good men; yet we secretly revered that holy zeal which inspired them to exert every power in erecting structures, the magnitude and beauty of which might excite ideas worthy of the Deity to whom they were dedicated; and also reprobated that fanatic bigotry which suffered them to decay and go to ruin, because they were once inhabited by a set of christians whose manner of worship was not orthodox. While we were moralizing thus on religious prejudices, the instability of the works of men's hands, and the fading glories of this world, we came to Leeds.

As the largness and extent of this thriving manufacturing town, with all the elegant buildings in and about it are well known to you, and as you have seen every thing worth no

tice in and near the road from thence, I shall here take my leave of you, and no longer tire you with a relation of the adventures and curiosities I met with in my summer's journey.

Address

To the Genius of the Caves.

Hail, kindred glooms!

Congenial horrors, hail!-Thomson.

THOU Spirit dread,

That hover❜dst o'er this rocky region erst,
With burning sulphur, and volcanic streams
Of fire extinct, all hail!-thou, whose loud shriek,
"Midst scowling tempests, oft the list'ning swain
Hast heard aghast; oft in slow-pacing clouds,
That drag their sweeping trains o'er Gragareth's steep,
Has trac'd thy wild fantastic form. Thy steps,
Through many a rugged, uncouth path, well pleas'd
I follow. Whether, from the dread abyss
Of some unfathom'd cavern*, Echo's groans,
With many a dreary pause between, from rock
To rock rebound, and break upon my ear
Like distant thunder;-or my raptur'd gaze,
E'en from the yew-fring'd margin, down the steep
Pursues the foaming cataract'st headlong course,
Till, spent and dazzled on those wat'ry hues,
Midway it rests, where light refracted paints
Each clust'ring dew-drop's glassy orb, and vies
With melting Iris' vernal tinctur'd bow ;
Or whether, by the taper's glimm'ring ray

* Gingling-cave, on Gragareth.

+ Weathercoat cave, in Chapel-in-the-Dale.

ADDRESS TO THE GENIUS OF THE CAVES. 283

Led on, my steps prevaded thy secret shrine,
Yordas, where, hid from Phoebus' garish eye,
With Contemplation, thy compeer, thou sit'st,
And, like a curtain, spread'st thy cloud of night
Around thy throne;-I feel, I feel thee near.
Full many a young idea, that ere this

Hath slept in silence, at thy thrilling call
Starts from its trance, and, kindling into life,
With joy and mingled awe attemper'd swells
My crowded soul; and ever and anon,
As at the wizard's call, my straining eye,
Quick glancing, sees a thousand fleeting shapes,
Scatter'd from bright-ey'd Fancy's dewy plume.

Parent of Horrors, hail! To my fix'd eye
Thy sacred form, in these, these solemn scenes
Reveal'd descends; and O! more awful far
This great design, grav'd by fair Nature's hand,
These frowning rocks and mineral roofs, reflect
Thy semblance, than could Raphael's warmth devise,
Than Phidias' featur'd marble: and thy voice,
Borne on the panting wing of each low blast
That sigh's along the vault, awakes the soul
To feelings more ennobled than the lyre
Of Orpheus, or the rapture-breathing strains
Of Handel, e'er inspir'd. O, may I oft,
In this Egerian cave, Great Power, attend
Thy sacred presence: here with nature's self
Hold converse; till, by just degrees, the mind

Through Science's footsteps pierce the harmonious maze
Of sacred order, and to brighter views
From day to day aspiring, trace at length,
Through all the wonders of this nether world,
Th' Eternal Cause; to him on rapture's wing
Dart her swift flight, and scale the walls of heaven.