steep slopes through which for some time we had been pursuing our walk. A deep and narrow valley lay now before us, into whose recesses our eye was prevented from penetrating, by the winding course it pursues, and the shutting in of its precipices, which fold into each other, and preclude all distant view. Through this magic feature of country the river Dove leads his stream, murmuring innocently and agreeably over his stony bed in the halcyon days of summer, but swelling into rage during the winter months; making the hills and rocks which form his prison rebellow to his roar, shaking the adjoining country with the thunder of his course, and overturning the labours of the husbandmen in the vale below.
But we had seen only the tamest feature of Dove-Dale; as we proceeded, the scenery gradually increased in majesty and rudeness. Now the rocks to the right hand forced themselves into the clouds, their scathed and uncovered heads beetling over the narrow path that wound through the dark recesses of the dale; on the opposite side, grand isolated masses, ornamented with ivy network, shot out occasionally from the shrubby declivity; whilst in front the precipices, approaching each other, appeared to preclude all further progress. Proceeding nearly a mile, the walk per-