grand and picturesque, its bottom gradually widening into an undulating flat, and its rocks sinking into round stony hills. Returning to the other extremity of the vale by the same path, (for the western side of the brook is impassable) we took a winding of the Dove to the right, and followed the road to Islam, a small ancient village one mile from the Dale; situated upon the united rivers Manifold and Hamps, which join their streams in the pleasure-grounds of Mr. Port. This is an old hall, as all the manor-houses are appropriately called in this part of England, the translation or corruption of the Norman aula, or seat of the lord; and stands on the confines of Staffordshire and Derbyshire. The view from it is extremely pleasing the little ancient church of the village in the foreground of a broad rich valley, backed by dark mountains; but it was to the walks near the house that our attention had been directed. Of these, the principal one takes the right hand bank of the river, and creeps under a beetling rock crowned with trees, which is opposed on the other side of this deep narrow valley by a sublime mass of shade, covering the face of a vast declivity.
Proceeding one hundred yards from the house, we reached a little rude wooden bridge thrown over an abyss in the rock, out of which boils up,