Before proceeding far I was considerably perplexed by discovering a cross-road without finger-posts, and while pausing in doubt which path to take, a young wild bull came dashing down the ravine, as though, in his fury, he would put an end an once to all my earthly dilemmas. Fortunately, he reserved his strength for a a more equal antagonist-for I was completely unarmed—and, passing me by, merely suggested, with a bellow, the propriety of carrying on all future excursions an iron-headed staff, like the naboot of the Arabs, which I earnestly recommend to all pedestrians in all countries where bulls, mad dogs, and other dangerous animals may chance to put the way-farer's courage—if not his life-in jeopardy.

Pedestrian miseries, however, which fly before a gleam of sunshine-a shepherd's path, if lost among the hills, the smoke of some distant cottage, or the village spire at evening's fall,—are not the most difficult to be borne; and, as I advanced, the sight of the far-swelling hills,-the sunlit summits towering beyond,—the silvery Dwyryd stealing along luxuriant fields and meadows,—the lofty wooded mountains, which flank the sides of the opening vale, all conspired to awaken emotions only the more pleasurable from the passing gloom of the morning.

I had already beheld the valley so much extolled by Lord Lyttelton-and, indeed, by every one who has described it-from different points, and under every variety of aspect. The approach to it from the gloomy wildness of Aberglasslyn, the road winding far under overhanging precipices, is full of beauty, rendered more novel and pleasing from its singular contrast. I had looked upon its glittering stream, when at the full, from the bold eminence below which it lies embosomed, whence the white sail could scarcely be discovered, and the fishermen on its banks became but a mere speck. I had beheld it more nearly in its lovely features, from the pleasant inn at Tan y Bwlch-from the bridge at Maentwrog, and the bold acclivities above-along the banks of the meandering river, and, not the least, from its elevated and

salubriously situated hamlet of Ffestiniog.

But under no view

had it presented itself, as a whole, in so charming a combination of objects, and in all its softer and most attractive features, as when I then beheld it about a mile below Maentwrog; its rockstrewn, sedgy banks, the lake-like waters of the Traeth, its wooded prospects, its picturesque objects, and white edifices upon the acclivities, half hidden by groves of rich and varied foliage, with the more boldly variegated hills rising above hills swelling into the distance. It was here, I thought, while contemplating the repose and beauty of the scene, that the idea of a retired life had charms even for the breast of a peer. With the woman one loves,' says Lord Lyttelton to his friend Mr. Bower, 'one might pass an age in this vale, and think it a day. If you have a mind to live long and renew your youth, come and settle at Ffestiniog. Not long ago there died in this neighbourhood an honest Welsh farmer, who was one hundred and five years of age. His youngest son was eighty-one years younger than his eldest, and eight hundred persons, his lineal descendants, attended his funeral.' The salubrity of this particular district might be recommended by numerous other authorities. Mrs. Jane Price, who resided in this neighbourhood, was at the period of her decease surrounded by twelve children, forty-seven grand-children, and thirteen great grand-children.

More than once, also, from its peculiar site and pleasant aspect, the vale of Ffestiniog has not undeservedly, by those who have observed the characteristic features of both, been compared with the more celebrated vale of Tempe. But it stands in need of no classical resemblances to enhance its natural beauties, when beheld, richly wooded and finely watered, in the glowing hues of autumn, when the departing sun, illumining the surrounding peaks, reflects a radiant light upon the scene, which may well remind the traveller of the most lovely spots which he has ever visited in other lands. It is then that the little hamlet and the church of Maentwrog, situated midway on the declivity of its

verdant eminence, appear with most picturesque effect, and the river Dwyryd, fed by the Cynfael and another neighbouring mountain-torrent, gives a silvery splendour to the prospect, combined with all that variegated beauty which is seen in no other Cambrian vale. From its site at the head of the vale, the village of Ffestiniog offers a delightful sojourn for the stranger anxious to explore the peculiar beauties of the neighbouring scenery. The Traeth Bychan, or the small sands, are chiefly produced by the river which waters this pleasant vale, and which becomes navigable a short distance below Maentwrog.

Upon the northern side, on a lofty eminence, rises Tan y Bwlchhall, a handsome mansion, surrounded by those extensive woods already mentioned, which give so distinctive a feature to this district, presenting a marked contrast to the bleak, barren tracts extending beyond in the direction of Pont Aberglasslyn. Here, as well as in the country about Tan yr Allt, the progress of agricultural improvement was sufficiently observable. The late proprietor, like Mr. Maddocks, by means of extensive embankments, recovered much valuable property from the inundations which, at spring-tides, usurped the richest tracts of the vale, and, by subsequent draining, converted the spongy soil of which it is chiefly composed into a rich, productive loam. This laudable undertaking, instead of having deteriorated the picturesque effect of the surrounding landscape, appears to have given fresh life and beauty to the whole scene, as the terrace-walks, gardens, shrubberies, and small canals -formed by the large drains-seem to blend naturally with the localities of the soil. The vale itself is barely three miles in length, the broadest portion of it not exceeding one.

Near the village of Ffestiniog (the 'place of hastening') are the falls of the Cynfael. The way to them lies across the fields, in a pretty direct line from the front of the inn, and then winds through a wood to the first fall, the distance being about half a mile. The upper one rushes over three projections of dark rock, which rise like stairs one above another. It is surrounded by trees,

intermingled with huge pieces of rock; while the darkness and solitude of the place are increased by branches overhanging the rapid stream from each of its banks. A few yards lower down, rises a bold columnar rock, called Pulpit Hugh Lloyd Cynfael, or Hugh Lloyd's Pulpit; passing which, and crossing the river by means of a rustic stone bridge, within five minutes' walk is seen the second fall. It is much less extensive than the other, and precipitates itself in a broad stream down a shelving rock about forty feet in height. It then bounds along a narrow chasm, and, struggling among the many-coloured rocks, reflects a variety of tints as it falls from slope to slope, till, finding a more even bed, it at length meanders quietly through the vale and mingles with the waters of the bay.

The surrounding prospect, from the hills, is indeed magnificent, and I found Lord Lyttelton's description of it at once graphic and correct. The morning being fair, I ventured to climb to the top of a mountain, not, indeed, so high as Snowdon, which is here called Moel Gwdion, but one degree lower than that called Moel Hebog, or Hill of the Hawk, from whence I saw a phenomenon, new to my eyes, but common in Wales; on the one side was midnight, on the other bright day. The whole extent of Snowdon, on our left, was wrapt in clouds from top to bottom; on the right, the sun shone most gloriously over the sea-coast of Caernarvon. The hill on which I stood was perfectly clear, the way I came up was a tolerably easy ascent; but before me was a precipice of many hundred yards, and below a vale which, though not cultivated, has much savage beauty,—the sides were steep and fringed with low wood. There were two little lakes, or rather large pools which stood in the bottom, whence issued a rivulet which serpentined in view for two or three miles, offering a pleasing relief to the eye.'

The vicinity, like that of most of the Cambrian wilds and fastnesses, when under the dominion of the native princes and heads of tribes, was more than once made subservient to purposes of

treachery and revenge. Howel, one of the kings of North Wales, had, it appears, two uncles-Iago and Edwal Vychan. The former having married Helen, he, on that or some other trivial ground, had him cast into prison; and the latter he caused to be murdered in cold blood. Constantine, called the Black, the son of Iago, being instigated by his mother to seek revenge for his father's wrongs, on reaching manhood, raised an army of Welsh and Danes, (in 979) and invaded the tyrant's dominions. While returning through Caernarvon towards Ffestiniog, his heroic mother led the van, and he brought up the rear. Having gone about eight miles, he came to a defile, bounded by two mountains, Mynidd Vawr on the right, upon which stood castle Cedwm, and Moel Elyan on the left, a narrow pass, forming one of the outgards to the entrance into Snowdon, and the channel of a small river flowing from the lake Cwellyn at the foot of Snowdon. So closely do the mountains here approach each other, that there is barely space for a single passenger. Young Constantine had nearly cleared the defile, when suddenly an arrow, from an unknown hand, arrested his path: 'Are you wounded?" cried a voice, which came from the summit of the castle that rose from the adjacent hill. I am!' replied the young prince, as he drew the arrow from the wound. are a dead man,' answered his treacherous cousin-for it was Howel,—the arrow is poisoned and sent by me.' It was speedily fatal, and the tidings far too speedily reached the ear of her who had spurred him on to the enterprise, and who on receiving it, is said to have exclaimed, in her sorrow, This is a cross hour!' and it is farther averred that the side gate, at which she stood, still bears the name to this day of Cross Hour.

6

Then you

I made an excursion from Ffestiniog to the grand cataract and glen called Rhaiadr Cwm. This rude and stupendous scene is observed from the road leading towards Yspytty Evan and Pentre Foelas; but, to appreciate its sublimity, the tourist should descend the mountain, which, however, is almost an unfrequented solitude, although the neighbouring roads have recently been much im