commonly disposed are perceptible in the views obtained in this exceptionally favoured part of the remnant of ancient Britain. Every portion commands views of great variety according to the aspect of vision chosen. The views range from the sublimity and severity of grandeur, embracing a continuity of mountains, down to the picturesque simplicity of the details of some pretty waterfall and its surroundings. I will describe one view as it presented itself to me piece by piece in my ascent of another part of the estate adjoining Snowdon, and this will represent something of an average of the whole, although the view from the Moel Hebog is in some respects even grander, as it rises to an altitude of 2566 feet, whereas this portion only rises to 2032 feet. From the very base it is exquisite. It embraces ponderous masses of indistinct interminable mountain in all directions, but discloses the details of the near bases, and the beauties of the valley, which from the summits are not apparent. The lovely Gwynant Lake is sufficient of itself to give a charm to any domain; it is well known, and as well appreciated for its great boating and fishing attractions. The valley has some rich pastures, offering a marked contrast in their emerald green to the darker colours of the uplands. Opposite is a bold, distinct hill, covered with pine trees (referred to below as a 'black lump.') Along the valley courses the well-known salmon and trout river Glaslyn, which forms a boundary. Along the base of the Pine Hill and its adjuncts are residences and grounds, well-kept cottages, and the village school. The lower portion contains some extensive plantations, amidst which are beautifully blended some very bold rocks, extending over a wide area, and jumping through them are mountain streams, the silver heads of which are now and again demonstrated.

The ascent of the mountain is somewhat tiring, but the views which it reveals of itself, as well as of the whole circumference of vision, well repay the effort of the climb. The land is well watered by mountain streams, taking their rise in some mysterious hidden fissure, whence they trickle out, and growing in volume they develop into cascades, waterfalls, cataracts, and rivers. The little rill flows out, meandering on, reaching a rock, over which it falls, dashing itself to drops in silver spray. Again it gathers together and is lost to sight, whence, emerging, it finds a cleft, through which it tumbles in cascade, and pursues its downward course, reaching a level plateau, where it describes a tortuous form, and by its pent-up strength forces a passage up hill, returning in gentler force, until by a headlong dash it acquires a momentum which produces a grand display of power over a broad expanse of rocks, tearing on, ever and anon exposing a silver crest as it comes into contact with some obstruction, against which it shatters itself into foam and hastes away. Reaching some narrow defile it drops as a cataract into the pool below, and thence emerges wide and broken, repeating all the forms of water eccentricity, with its perpetual chants on its course down a steep mountain side, until it is lost in the Glaslyn River. From all parts of the ascent the view is remarkable. Standing out against a clear sky, the mountains beyond the valley stretching away as far as human vision can depict, are objects of exceptional beauty. Hills rise out of hills, hills around hills, hills upon hills, hills of every form and size, making in the aggregate a mass of mountains, not having a tame, gradual slope, but the whole interpenetrated by such irregularities of hill, ravine, precipice, and declivity, as with the varied clothing of fir or larch, heather or grass, inter

mingled with rocks, varied with different hues, and acted upon by the diversities of shade and brightness by the passing clouds, presents a picture the effect of which can never be accurately painted in words, but which when once fully gazed upon may ever after be understood. A A ray of sunshine will illumine one peak with a golden coronet, while all around is dark. The play of light and shade upon the physical features of such a country affords a combination and alternation of the rarest beauty. The views from some part of this estate would possibly rank amongst the grandest in the British Islands. But views must be viewed. I can easily imagine a pretending purchaser driving up to the land and looking up the mountain side, and return denouncing my description as invention; but if he will don some hob-nail boots and walk over it for several hours, as I did, he will admit its accuracy. The mountains seem to interlace one another, one peeping behind another, then again a higher peering over its head, and so on and on to the right hand and the left, stretching away into the vague distance. The summit is reached at last, it rises to a sharp rock, beyond which is seen the gigantic monarch Snowdon, with its breast appropriately draped in streaks of ermine (snow). Between the breast of Snowdon and our peak other summits form a kind of semicircle, revealing one extended precipice, at the foot of which the land shelves down to a lake in the depression. The view reaches on the south-west side to the mighty Atlantic, where vision is lost, except when arrested by shipping bound to the distant regions of the earth. The shore is marked by the town of Portmadoc. Then inland, stretching away along the eastern horizon, is the great gathering of mountains, not in a chain of continuity, but in all the grand diversity

of an aggregation of independent sovereigns. Nearer to us, at the base, shines out the Gwynant Lake, like a well-set jewel, and above on the right what appears to be a "black lump," which with a dazzling sun is indefinable. On the north-east beyond Llanberis Pass, arise the Glyders. Snowdon keeps the north, while towards the west Moel Hebog stands. Then, completing the compass, the eye looks down upon another part where the house is, though two miles off or more, as the bird flies, and in the line of sight is the pretty village of Beddgelert.

Who can say that this estate with its 3738 acres, its snug residence, its world-famed fishing rivers and lakes, its mountains and its hundred natural charms is not worth the five-and-twenty thousand golden sovereigns at which I am prepared to sell it ?-and worth it too, although the farms and sheep walks (apart from the embedded minerals) would only pay about two per cent. ! Who would not estimate these magnificent acres of land and water as a something worth securing by those who can appreciate the grandeur of the Great Artificer of Nature?

Luxury applies to land-owning as much as to any other owning. The beauties of Nature should be estimated at their fair and reasonable value, and the growing appreciation of the æsthetical will influence the prices to be paid for the beautiful in nature as well as for the beautiful in art.

C. F. DowSETT.

CHAPTER XVIII.

FRESH AIR FOR POOR LONDON CHILDREN.

BY THE REV. A. STYLEMAN HERRING,

Vicar of St. Paul's, Clerkenwell.

THIS is quite a recent institution. It sprung up a few years ago by reason of the poor pale-faced and pent-up London children appearing so jaded and spiritless at Sunday-school. Like all successful efforts it began very slowly, but steadily advanced, and now forms a part and parcel of parish work. The testimony of a medical man -himself a sanitary officer-affirms that "children after they have had two or three weeks by the seaside, or in the delicious country, are much better able to resist the winter or an illness, and even if they do get ill they recover much sooner than those who remain perpetually in London." Her Royal Highness the Princess of Wales was one of the first to patronise our Society, and now gives her patronage to the grand central society, "The Children's Holiday Fund." There are various modes adopted to assist the children to accept the invitation to be boarded out. It would indeed be most amusing to relate the really fearful mistakes of the townbred children about rustic affairs. Their knowledge seldom reaches much beyond the street, place or alley they have herded during their existences.

A young lady from the country was staying with her clerical brother in town, and went to teach in his Sunday