and happy they appeared! and not a little inclined to joke after the manner of the pastoral persons in Theocritus.  That day brought us to Capel Cerig again, after a charming drive up the banks of the Ogwen, having previously had beautiful views of Bangor, the sea, and its shipping.  From Capel Cerig down the justly celebrated vale of Nant Gwynant to Bethgelart.  In this vale are two small lakes, the higher of which is the only Welsh lake which has any pretensions to compare with our own; and it has one great advantage over them, that it remains wholly free from intrusive objects.  We saw it early in the morning; and with the greenness of the meadows at its head, the steep rocks on one of its shores, and the bold mountains at both extremities, a feature almost peculiar to itself, it appeared to us truly enchanting.  The village of Bethgelart is much altered for the worse:  new and formal houses have, in a great measure, supplanted the old rugged and tufted cottages, and a smart hotel has taken the lead of the lowly public-house in which I took refreshment almost thirty years ago, previous to a midnight ascent to the summit of Snowdon.  At B. we were agreeably surprised by the appearance of Mr. Hare, of New College, Oxford.  We slept at Tan-y-bylch, having employed the afternoon in exploring the beauties of the vale of Festiniog.  Next day to Barmouth, whence, the following morning, we took boat and rowed up its sublime estuary, which may compare with the finest of Scotland, having the advantage of a superior climate.  From Dolgelly we went to Tal-y-llyn, a solitary and very interesting lake under Cader Idris.  Next day, being Sunday, we heard service performed in Welsh, and in the afternoon went part of the way down a beautiful valley to Machynleth, next morning to Aberystwith, and up the Rhydiol to the Devil’s Bridge, where we passed the following day in exploring those two rivers, and Hafod in the neighbourhood.  I had seen these things long ago, but either my memory or my powers of observation had not done them justice.  It rained heavily in the night, and we saw the waterfalls in perfection.  While Dora was attempting to make a sketch from the chasm in the rain, I composed by her side the following address to the torrent: 

    How art thou named?  In search of what strange land,
    From what huge height descending?  Can such force
    Of water issue from a British source?

Next day, viz. last Wednesday, we reached this place, and found all our friends well, except our good and valuable friend, Mr. Monkhouse, who is here, and in a very alarming state of health.  His physicians have ordered him to pass the winter in Devonshire, fearing a consumption; but he is certainly not suffering under a regular hectic pulmonary decline:  his pulse is good, so is his appetite, and he has no fever, but is deplorably emaciated.  He is a near relation of Mrs. W., and one, as you know, of my best friends.  I hope to see Mr. Price, at Foxley, in a few days.  Mrs. W.’s brother is about to change his present residence for a farm close by Foxley.