with shaggy rocks, without the slightest veftiges of verdure. We reached this place yesterday evening: I am delighted with the fituation, which is the most retired and pleafing I have ever seen; it stands upon the borders of a valley fufficiently high to command a view of its whole extent; the Druryd, a small, but interesting stream, winding its folitary courfe, undisturbed, through the midst of it; and, at the lower extremity, a fimple, but elegant bridge, terminates the view. The woods are very picturefque, and cover the opposite hills to a great extent; gratifying the eye with a conftant variety. Why, my dear friend, has nature placed her most alluring haunts, her most delightful scenes, fo far from the reach of man? Why has the prodigally fquandered away upon fo many distant and uncivilized regions, and upon this favoured country in particular, all her ma

jefty

jefty and fimplicity? Why has the given to a people, who behold, without enjoyment, scenes of beauty, where, for my part, I could be almost content to pass through this strange scene called life, in peace and folitude? I know you will blame me for thus giving way to vifions, which ought not to be realized, and your answer I already anticipate (viz.) that man was not made for folitude, or felfifh enjoyments. That our brother travellers, through this tedious journey, call for our affiftance, and have a claim upon our exertions; and that nature would no longer please, no longer afford delight and gratification in her works, if they were every where equally beautiful; or, in other words, were there not barren mountains, fmoky cities, ungenial foils, and unwholesome climates; then would lakes, woods, rivers, fertile valleys, cultivated plains, villages, and

hamlets,

hamlets, be no longer objects of curiofity or admiration.

The inn at Tan y Bwlch is remarkably neat and commodious; we yesterday made an excurfion from hence, to view the fall of the Cynfael, one of the most celebrated cataracts in Wales. With much difficulty and danger I climbed up to its tremendous and almost unattainable fummit; from whence the water, collected into a body, falls tumbling from rock to rock, and steep to fteep, till it reaches a vast pool, or bafon, frightfully deep, and fo remarkably clear, that the pebbles at the bottom of it may be diftinctly perceived, though I could form no judgment of its depth. The fcenery at the foot of the cataract, was beyond imagination beautiful; but I will not attempt to give you a particular description of it, because I

have

have neither time nor power to do it justice. We leave this place to-morrow morning, and you may conclude, after what I have faid, it will be with forrow and regret. I shall now close this long, and I fear, tedious letter, and be affured, I feel myself as much as ever,

Your fincere Friend,

I. H.

LET

LETTER VI.

ABERISTWITH, July 29, 1794.

THIS is the laft letter, my dear friend, that I shall have the pleasure of writing to you whilft I am in Wales; an unexpected event obliges me to be at Bath in a few days, fo that I am under a neceffity of leaving this country fooner than I had intended; but I will take care and write to you as foon as I arrive, with the remainder of my tour, together with a few obfervations upon the character of the people.

It was with much difficulty we found our way to Harlech. We made fome enquiries at a fmall village, but in vain; for though we addreffed ourselves to many,

we