must ever leave it. As he looks up to the rocks, his thoughts are elevated; as he turns his eyes on the vallies, he is composed and soothed.

"He that mounts the precipices at Hawkestone, wonders how he came thither, and doubts how he shall return. His walk is an adventure, and his departure an escape. He has not the tranquillity, but the horrors, of solitude; a kind of turbulent pleasure, between fright and admiration.

"Ilam is the fit abode of pastoral virtue, and might properly diffuse its shades over nymphs and swains; Hawkestone can have no fitter inhabitants than giants of mighty bone and bold emprisemen of lawless courage and heroic violence. Hawkestone should be described by Milton, and Ilam by Parnel." (p. 38-43.)

Now the reader has had an opportunity of judging for himself as to the felicity of this description, we shall not be disposed to detract a syllable from what we have before said with regard to it: yet it has merit; the author was awake to the magnificence and loveliness of the scene; and if he do not exhibit it with the pencil of an artist, he felt the close alliance between moral and natural beauty; and from his keen perception of the one, he supplies a happy illustration of the other.

Our author proceeds to Mold, the siege of which is mentioned by the Welsh historians as among the most brilliant achievements of their annals; then to Lleweny, at the bottom of a vale, with a beautiful screen of wood behind it, having Denbigh Castle full in view, as the grand feature of the prospect. The note on these scenes is as follows:

"We entered Wales, dined at Mold, and came to Lleweney: "We were at Lleweney.

"In the lawn at Lleweney is a spring of fine water, which rises above the surface into a stone basin, from which it runs to waste, in a continual stream, through a pipe.

"There are very large trees.

"The hall at Lleweney is forty feet long, and twenty-eight broad; the gallery one hundred and twenty feet long, all paved; the library forty-two feet long, and twenty-eight broad; the dining-parlours thirty-six feet long, and twenty-six broad.

"It is partly sashed, and partly has casements." (p. 49-51.)

On Bâch y Graig, the seat of the ancestors of Mrs. Thrale, next noticed, we have an observation in the letter to the lady three years subsequent to this visit, which shews the effect of Welsh scenery on the doctor's mind when the first ebullition of feeling had subsided; and it was not very indicative of the permanence of such impressions.

.

"Boswell," says he, "wants to see Wales; but, except the woods of Bâch y Graig, what is there in Wales that can feed the hunger of ignorance, or quench the thirst of curiosity."

At St. Asaph, the author finds "the bishop very civil;" and this is all the remark he makes, prodigal as he is of praise on some occasions, with regard to the late Dr. Shipley-a person distinguished by all who knew him for the urbanity and refinement of his manners, the acuteness and delicacy of his taste, and the value and extent of his information: but the penetrating eye of Johnson was often blind to the merit of those who differed with him either in religion or politics. In his eulogium on Dr. Watts, we have a sight of the complexion of his thoughts: "Happy," says he, "will be that reader, whose mind is disposed by his verses or his prose to imitate him in all, but his nonconformity to copy his benevolence to man, and his reverence to God."

Of Denbigh we have a few particulars. The castle is on the lofty summit of an inclined plane of limestone rock, and is about a mile in circumference. Lambert, who came before it during the civil war, found every part inaccessible, until he resorted to the expedient of sapping the welltower, on which the fortress surrendered.

"We visited Denbigh, and the remains of its castle.

"The town consists of one main street, and some that cross it, which I have not seen. The chief street ascends with a quick rise for a great length: the houses are built, some with rough stone, some with brick, and a few of timber.

"The castle, with its whole enclosure, has been a prodigious pile; it is now so ruined, that the form of the inhabited part cannot easily be traced.

"There are, as in all old buildings, said to be extensive vaults, which the ruins of the upper works cover and conceal, but into which boys sometimes find a way. To clear all passages, and trace the whole of what remains, would require much labour and expense. We saw a church, which was once the chapel of the castle, but is used by the town: it is dedicated to St. Hilary, and has an income of about (p. 58 to 60.)

The old clerk at Dymerchion Church, by his mercenary fattery of Mrs. Thrale, seems to have occasioned a feeling of permanent dislike in the doctor, hardly justified by the weakness which produced it. In the original note, the observation is in this form, and is somewhat varied in the text, as the editor acknowledges: "The old clerk had great

appearance of joy at seeing his mistress, and foolishly said, that he was now willing to die." The author afterwards wrote in a separate column, under the head of "Notes and Additions," he had a crown," and subsequently there is interlined the word " only," in ink of a different shade. On no occasion of his life did Johnson shew more his detestation of flattery, than at the period when the vanity of Lord Chesterfield excited it. It will be recollected, that the plan of his Dictionary was announced to the public in a pamphlet addressed to that nobleman. In the hope of a dedication, after neglect and abandonment, his lordship thought fit to write some papers in "The World" of a complimentary character. The manly spirit displayed in the letters of Dr. Johnson on that concession are well known, and they contributed more, perhaps, to the mortification of the arrogant peer, than any other circumstance in his ceremonious and courtly history.

But to pursue the journey. We have a brief notice of Ruthin Castle, the ancient defence of some of the avenues into the vale of Clwyd. It is constructed on a rising ground, in an amphitheatre of mountains; and by a little furniture of wood on the foreground, might be rendered exquisitely beautiful.

"Ruthin Castle is still a very noble ruin; all the walls still remain; so that a complete platform, and elevations, not very imperfect, may be taken. It encloses a square of about thirty yards. The middle space was always open.

"The wall is, I believe, about thirty feet high, very thick, flanked with six round towers, each about eighteen feet, or less, in diameter. Only one tower had a chimney, so that there was commodity of living. It was only a place of strength. The garrison had, perhaps, tents in the area." (p. 75-76.)

The umbrageous scenes of Gwaynynog do not seem to have attracted the attention of the doctor so much as the good dinners he obtained. To the pleasures of the hospitable board he was never insensible, and the zest was then heightened by the company of the single individual he met with in the country, who conversed with him on the objects of his literary pursuits. The delightful park of his host, and the lovely valley in the immediate neighbourhood, are forgotten in the gratifications of a kind more congenial to his habits.

"I dined at Mr. Myddleton's, of Gwaynynog. The house was a gentleman's house, below the second rate-perhaps below the CRIT. REV. VOL. IV. Oct. 1816.

2 X

third-built of stone roughly cut. The rooms were low, and the passage above stairs gloomy, but the furniture was good. The table was well supplied, except that the fruit was bad. It was truly the dinner of a country gentleman. Two tables were filled with company, not inelegant.

After dinner, the talk was of preserving the Welsh language. I offered them a scheme. Poor Evan Evans was mentioned, as incorrigibly addicted to strong drink. Washington was commended. Myddleton is the only man, who, in Wales, has talked to me of literature. I wish he were truly zealous. I recommended the republication of David ap Rhees's Welsh Grammar." (p. 79–81.)

The doctor now approached

"The rude rocks

Of Penmaen Mawr, heaped hideous to the sky."

A scene more of grandeur and immensity than of beauty, on account of the angular form, and unbroken magnitude of the object. From thence leaving this lofty elevation, and its neighbour Penmaenbach, he advanced into a rich country, Occupying a recess of the mountains in which is situated the abyss of the Devil's Cauldron. From hence is discovered Bangor, screened by a woody distance, and beyond it, winding round like an extended low bank, the Isle of Anglesea. The traveller next took the direction of the town and spacious castle of Beaumaris, which is on a square regular plan, and strengthened with towers on every side. These situations with the beautiful town of Caernarvon, and the magnificent fortress in the vicinity, are thus described:

"Our coach was at last brought, and we set out with some anxiety, but we came to Penmaen Mawr by daylight; and found a way, lately made, very easy, and very safe. It was cut smooth, and enclosed between parallel walls; the outer of which secures the passenger from the precipice, which is deep and dreadful. This wall is here and there broken, by mischievous wantonness. The inner wall preserves the road from the loose stones, which the shattered steep above it would pour down. That side of the mountain seems to have a surface of loose stones, which every accident may crumble. The old road was higher, and must have been very formidable. The sea beats at the bottom of the way.

"At evening the moon shone eminently bright; and our thoughts of danger being now past, the rest of our journey was very pleasant. At an hourlisomewhat late, we came to Bangor, where we found a very mean inn, and had some difficulty to obtain lodging. I lay in a room, where the other bed had two men.

"We obtained boats to convey us to Anglesea, and saw Lord Bulkeley's House, and Beaumaris Castle.

"I was accosted by Mr. Lloyd, the Schoolmaster of Beaumaris, who had seen me at University College; and he, with Mr. Roberts, the Register of Bangor, whose boat we borrowed, accompanied us. Lord Bulkeley's house is very mean, but his garden is spacious, and shady with large trees and smaller interspersed. The walks are straight, and cross each other, with no variety of plan; but they have a pleasing coolness, and solemn gloom, and extend to a great length.

"The castle is a mighty pile; the outward wall has fifteen round towers, besides square towers at the angles. There is then a void space between the wall and the castle, which has an area enclosed with a wall, which again has towers, larger than those of the outer wall. The towers of the inner castle are, I think, eight. There is likewise a chapel entire, built upon an arch as I suppose, and beautifully arched with a stone roof, which is yet unbroken. The entrance into the chapel is about eight or nine feet high, and was, I suppose, higher, when there was no rubbish in the area.

"This castle corresponds with all the representations of romancing narratives. Here is not wanting the private passage, the dark cavity, the deep dungeon, or the lofty tower. We did not discover the well. This is the most compleat view that I have yet had of an old castle. It had a moat.

"The towers.

"We went to Bangor.

"We went by water from Bangor to Caernarvon, where we met Paoli and Sir Thomas Wynne. Meeting by chance with one Troughton, an intelligent and loquacious wanderer, Mr. Thrale invited him to dinner. He attended us to the castle, an edifice of stupendous magnitude and strength; it has in it all that we observed at Beaumaris, and much greater dimensions: many of the smaller rooms floored with stone are entire; of the larger rooms, the beams and planks are all left: this is the state of all buildings left to time. We mounted the Eagle Tower by one hundred and sixtynine steps, each of ten inches. We did not find the well; nor did I trace the moat; but moats there were, I believe, to all castles on the plain, which not only hindered access, but prevented mines. We saw but a very small part of this mighty ruin, and in all these old buildings the subterraneous works are concealed by the rubbish. "To survey this place would take much time: I did not think there had been such buildings; it surpassed my ideas." (p. 96-106.)

The doctor appears to have been seriously impressed on visiting Bodville.

"We went to see Bodville. Mrs. Thrale remembered the rooms, and wandered over them with recollection of her childhood. This species of pleasure is always melancholy. The walk was cut down, and the pond was dry. Nothing was better." (p. 109-110.)