one of the best known and most favourite glens in the island, and is really very pretty--more one can hardly claim for it--always provided that we have luck enough to visit it at a time when it is not overrun by hordes of Douglas "trippers." The writer has only been in February, when there was not even a custodian to exact the usual fee that is demanded for admission. It is said to get its name from the daughter of a former owner, who built what is called the Swiss Cottage--always a name of disastrous omen--and planted a million trees. Many of these last were burnt down some twenty years ago or more; and others had been devastated by a tremendous storm that took place not long before the writer's visit. It is still, however, a charming woodland walk to follow up the dell to the Rhenass Fall towards its head, where the stream descends over mossy crags in a theatre of deep seclusion. This is the end of the orthodox glen; but by climbing above the fall on the open hillside and penetrating the upland valley that lies between Colden (1,599 feet) and Sart Fell (l,560 feet), we soon begin to get among the mountains. Possibly, however, this digression involves some trespassing; and trespass in Manx law--I write in utter ignorance--may perhaps be invested with pains and penalties that do not surround it in England! Another good digression from the main highroad may be made by quitting it at Ballaugh, and proceeding through the Curraghs by way of Jurby and Andreas. The Curraghs is the flattest part of the island, and is formed of alluvial deposits. Ballaugh old church at any rate is picturesque outside; and two other churches in this dull corner of the island--Andreas and Bride--have each at least a brace of ancient crosses. Of these old Manx crosses we hope soon to say something more, when treating of the grand collection on the south side of the graveyard at St. Maughold. Of Manx ecclesiology there is nothing to be said: it is patently without interest or value. Peel Cathedral, we have seen, has a little genuine thirteenth-century work, and Braddon old church, like Jurby, is pleasant enough to look on. Moreover, a skilled eye will doubtless detect traces of mediaevalism in many a featureless edifice that might seem at first the uncomely product of the soulless eighteenth century. But not even the best of the seventeen old parish churches--and that, perhaps, is St. Maughold--is likely to hold the archaeologist long, or help to fill his note-book. Even the pre-Conquest chapel at Peel can hardly be called an exception; it is simply a matter of four bare walls, quite without instructiveness or feature.