I earnestly advise every traveller of taste and leisure, proceeding by the way of Ross to Monmouth, not to neglect the beautiful scenery of this river: he may take one of the boats; or, if he prefer riding or walking, he may enjoy its principal charms by reversing my journey from Goodrich; whence crossing Hensham ferry, he will proceed among pleasant meadows on the margin of the stream in front of the sublime grandeur of the Caldwell rocks; then ascending the isthmus of an immense peninsulated rock called Symond’s gate, at the height of 2000 feet above the surface of the river, he will enjoy a superlative prospect of its mazy extent and the grand scenery around. From the vicinity of Goodrich the Wye urges its course through a narrow valley inclosed by towering woody mountains, or struggles in more limited confines, where protruding rocks plunge their naked perpendicular sides into the body of the stream. Descending from the lofty neck of the peninsula, which is but six hundred yards across in a direct line, although the circuit of the river round the rock is upwards of four miles, he will find himself in a deep valley of astonishing grandeur, formed on one side by the romantic precipices of the peninsula, and on the other by the great Doward, a huge stratified limestone mountain, studded with lime-kilns and cottages. At the New-wier he will re-cross the river, and soon join the turnpike to Monmouth. The old town of ROSS, situated on the gently-inclining bank of the Wye near Wilton bridge, afforded us no subject of admiration or interest, except in the recollection which it excited of Mr. John Kyrle, whose public spirit and philanthropy inspired the verses of Pope. We baited our horses at an inn which was formerly his house, and now bears the sign of “The Man of Ross.” The views from the cemetery of Ross church are among the most beautiful that imagination can picture, looking over a lovely value, adorned with the majestic meanders of the Wye, enriched with numerous groves and woods, and finished by a distance of Welch mountains: to detail its several charming features would be as tedious, as it would prove a vain attempt to realize a just idea of the landscape. We now traversed a well-cultivated district, whose numerous though gentle hills were frequently clothed with apple-orchards, and in about six miles ride, upon a wretched road, gained a heathy eminence, when the great plain of Gloucester appeared before us, stretching to an immense distance in every direction. At the extremity of the plain, at least in appearance, rose the towers and spires of Gloucester, faintly relieving from the Cotteswold hills, whose high continuous summits were strongly contrasted by the broken form of the Malvern hills afar off on the left.