The sublimity of the walk to Talylyn literally “beggars description.” Having crossed a bridge of eight arches, thrown over the river Dovey, high mountains closed us on every side, shook into every possible form of horror; huge masses of rock hung over our path, and it seemed necessary to remember their firm basis, to soften the terror they inspired; whilst other mis-shapen fragments lay scattered at the side of the road. The transparent Dyflas, whose clear surface reflected the tremulous picture in all its colours, forms one continued cataract for five or six miles, overflowing with the innumerable tributary torrents which hurry themselves down from the highest summit of the surrounding rocks; whilst, to give effect to the whole prospect, the shaggy head of Cader Idris towers, the majestic sentinel of the scene, whose “cloud capt” summit the eye aches in surveying. To our great disappointment, the weather prevented our ascending this celebrated mountain giant. Cader Idris is esteemed, in height, the second mountain in all Wales, rising two thousand eight hundred and fifty feet above the green of Dolgelly. {123} If the weather proves favourable to ascend Cader Idris, travellers may be very comfortably accommodated with beds at TALYLYN; a small village, situate at the foot of the mountain; and where they will likewise meet with a conductor, in every respect suited for this Alpine excursion. Mr. Jones, the landlord of the Blue Lion, used all his influence to detain us until the weather wore a more favourable aspect; but we determined to make Barmouth our head quarters. Quitting, therefore, our polite landlord, we soon arrived at the pool of Three Grains, which though of inferior size, yet is generally credited to be unfathomable; it abounds in fish, and derives its name from three immense stones, or rather fragments of rock, near it, which the common people confidently assert, and believe, the giant Idris took out of his shoes as he passed this pool. Having ascended several hills, a quick descent of three or four miles soon brought us to DOLGELLY, surrounded with a “tempestuous sea of mountains,” and watered by the rapid current of the river Avonvawr, over which is thrown a large and handsome stone bridge at the entrance of the town. This town was known to the Romans, if we may judge from the coins found at a well in its vicinity, bearing this inscription, “IMP. CÆSAR. TRAJAN.” It contains 537 houses, and 3064 inhabitants: but the church is little better than a barn, with a covered roof, supported by two rows of rude oak pales, and a bare earth floor. In the neighbourhood of this romantic spot, and indeed in many parts of Merionethshire, the manufacture of strong cloth has long been carried on. {124}