detached rock, solitary, craggy, and pointed, starts out to a great height, and forms an object truly sublime; which is pleasingly contrasted by the little pastoral river, and its verdant turfy bank below. The approach to this natural excavation is so difficult, even on foot, that we were not at all surprised by the account of an accident, given us by our guide, which occurred a few years back to Mr. Langton, dean of Clogher, and Miss Laroche, who madly rode up the acclivity on the same horse. The poor animal, unable to perform the unconscionable task imposed upon him, fell under his burthen, and rolled down the steep. The Dean paid the penalty of his rashness with his life; the young lady with difficulty recovered from her bruises; but the unoffending horse, who had been forced unwillingly to the attempt, was not injured by the accident.

As we proceeded on our walk, the Dale became narrower, admitting only a foot-path between the river and the rock, which now rose more abruptly on either side, and threw itself into shapes more wild and singular; but softened and diversified with mosses and lichens, shrubs and brush-wood.

This

1 scenery continued to the northern termination, where two vast rocks, rising sublimely to the right and left of the brook, form the jaws or portals of this wonderful valley, which now drops at once the

1

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,

with surprising force, the river Manifold, after having pursued a subterraneous course for five miles from the point where it ingulphs itself in the earth, called Weston mill. At the distance of twenty yards further, a similar phænomenon occurs; for here we discovered another fissure in the rock, from whence the river Hamps threw his waters into day. He had taken a longer journey under ground than even his neighbour, having travelled, in this darkling manner from Leek Water-Houses, a place half-way between Lichfield and Ashbourne, seven miles from Islam. On their emersion into light, the temperature of the two rivers differs two and a half degrees, the Hamps being thus much colder than the Manifold. Ascending a flight of stone steps, we were conducted to a higher walk, which pursues a zig-zag course through the wood that covers the face of the rock, and overhangs the river, whose banks we have just quitted. In this solemn abstracted scene, safe from the intrusion of the busy croud, and secure from every ungrateful sound, lulled to peace by the murmur of the river that flowed beneath him, and the sacred whisper of the wood which waved above his head, Congreve, in a little grotto, (his favourite and accustomed retreat) wrote his comedy called the "Old Bachelor." Indeed it seems to be the very spot

for composition; and if the poet's metaphorical language had ever been exemplified in reality, if ever the actual personification of an abstract idea could take place, here, amid the shades of Congreve's walk, we might expect to perceive " inspiration breathe around."

From this sequestered scene we wound down. the face of the rock, and gently dropped into the lime-tree walk, so called from the friendly shade which it receives from a noble row of these trees. A semi-circular meadow spreads itself to the left, bounded by the magnificent wooded bank beforementioned, which here forms itself into an august amphitheatre. A seat in this meadow commands the most beautiful view the grounds afford; embracing a rich and picturesque home scene, terminated by the mountain Thorp-Cloud, which lifts its very singular form in the centre of the distance.

Curiosity led us into the church, where we found some ancient monuments of the Cromwell family; but two of still greater antiquity attracted attention in the church-yard, which, from the Runic knots and other Scandinavian ornaments carved on their faces, we supposed to be Danish, and attributed to the 10th century.

The intricacy of the road from the Dog and Partridge to Matlock rendered it prudent to take

a guide from the former place, who conducted us through Tissington, (remarkable for the ancient family seat of the Fitzherberts', now Lords St. Helens, who have resided there since the end of the fourteenth century) Bradburn, and Hopton-a village planted in the bottom of a deep valley, embowered in wood, and guarded by lofty grey rocks, under whose projecting heads the cottagers have built their little crouching dwellings. Here the rage of alteration has just destroyed a fine old mansion-house, the ancient residence of the Gell family, (which planted itself here in the reign of Elizabeth) whose descendant is the present lord of the manor, and occupier of the house now erecting on the scite of its predecessor. By this gentleman, the new road to Matlock from Hopton has been made, and quaintly christened the Via Gellia; an affectation, however, that may be pardoned, as it contributes much to the enjoyment and comfort of the traveller, conducting him through a shorter, more agreeable, and convenient road than the former one.

Having again reached the turnpike, we wound down a gradual descent of two miles, through a narrow vale of peculiar scenery; grand sweeps of wooded hills on each side, and a river leading its babbling waters to the right of the road. At