About a mile and a half from Vechan we unexpectedly descended by an excellent road through a wood into a rich romantic valley, watered by Neath river. In this retired situation we found the Angel inn, of Pont Neath Vechan. Description can scarcely suggest the full grandeur and magnificence of this valley: woods, rocks, and waterfalls, all unite to render it beautiful. Our Cicerone first conducted us to the fall of Scotenogam, on the river Purthen, about a mile and a half from the house. This fall we saw to great advantage: the river, having gathered in its course the accumulation of many torrents after the rain, precipitated itself into one majestic expanse of water, near seventy feet high; whilst the dark lowering rocks, on each side, contrasted finely with the varied vegetation around us. The descent is by no means easy; but the grandeur of the scene amply compensated for all difficulties. Our Cicerone next conducted us to a very inferior one, called the Lady’s Cascade, on the river Neath; but of this we caught a very indifferent prospect, the ascent of the mountain being inaccessible, and the water too high to admit of our obtaining a due inspection of it. We then returned to our inn, and set out on a different road, in quest of nature’s landscapes.—Having walked about three miles, we heard the angry roar of small cascades; these we considered preludes to scenes of nature’s grandest cast, where the rushing waterfall swells into a torrent; and accordingly we soon found ourselves near the fall of Lower Culhepste. The character of this cataract differs very much from that of Scotenogam; being broken in its descent from projecting rocks, of an immense size. About a quarter of a mile from hence we descended a rugged and steep rock, to examine the fall of Upper Culhepste, about fifty feet high. The singularity of this fall invites the curiosity of the traveller more than any other in Wales: the whole river precipitates itself with such violence, as to leave a space between the rock and the fall sufficiently wide for a horse-path. Though in less than two minutes we were completely wet by the spray, yet the effect was awful and sublime; and it was necessary to remember the fixed foundation of the rocks above our heads, to soften the awe they inspired. “The effect of sunshine on the cascade,” says Mr. Malkin, “when behind it on a fine day, is both grand and beautiful. The particles of water glittering with a silvery brightness, as they fall; the uncommon brilliancy of every thing without, seen through such a medium, contrasted with the dark green of the moss, everlastingly wet with spray; the corroded dinginess of the rock; the damp and vaporous gloom of the atmosphere within; altogether form a singularly mingled scene of awe and gaiety.”