APPENDIX.

'SAM. JOHNSON[1142].'

'London, May 6, 1775.'

It would be improper for me to boast of my own labours; but I cannot refrain from publishing such praise as I received from such a man as Sir William Forbes, of Pitsligo, after the perusal of the original manuscript of myJournal[1143].

'To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.

'Edinburgh, March 7, 1777.

'My DEAR SIR,

'I ought to have thanked you sooner, for your very obliging letter, and for the singular confidence you are pleased to place in me, when you trust me with such a curious and valuable deposit as the papers you have sent me[1144]. Be assured I have a due sense of this favour, and shall faithfully and carefully return them to you. You may rely that I shall neither copy any part, nor permit the papers to be seen.

'They contain a curious picture of society, and form a journal on the most instructive plan that can possibly be thought of; for I am not sure that an ordinary observer would become so well acquainted either with Dr. Johnson, or with the manners of the Hebrides, by a personal intercourse, as by a perusal of yourJournal.

'I am, very truly,

'Dear Sir,

'Your most obedient,

'And affectionate humble servant,

'WILLIAM FORBES.'

When I consider how many of the persons mentioned in this Tour are now gone to 'that undiscovered country, from whose bourne no traveller returns[1145],' I feel an impression at once awful and tender.—Requiescant in pace!

It may be objected by some persons, as it has been by one of my friends, that he who has the power of thus exhibiting an exact transcript of conversations is not a desirable member of society. I repeat the answer which I made to that friend:—'Few, very few, need be afraid that their sayings will be recorded. Can it be imagined that I would take the trouble to gather what grows on every hedge, because I have collected such fruits as theNonpareiland the BON CHRETIEN[1146]?'

On the other hand, how useful is such a faculty, if well exercised! To it we owe all those interesting apophthegms andmemorabiliaof the ancients, which Plutarch, Xenophon, and Valerius Maximus, have transmitted to us. To it we owe all those instructive and entertaining collections which the French have made under the title ofAna, affixed to some celebrated name. To it we owe theTable-Talkof Selden[1147], theConversationbetween Ben Jonson and Drummond of Hawthornden, Spence'sAnecdotesof Pope[1148], and other valuable remains in our own language. How delighted should we have been, if thus introduced into the company of Shakspeare and of Dryden[1149], of whom we know scarcely any thing but their admirable writings! What pleasure would it have given us, to have known their petty habits, their characteristick manners, their modes of composition, and their genuine opinion of preceding writers and of their contemporaries! All these are now irrecoverably lost. Considering how many of the strongest and most brilliant effusions of exalted intellect must have perished, how much is it to be regretted that all men of distinguished wisdom and wit have not been attended by friends, of taste enough to relish, and abilities enough to register their conversation;

'Vixere fortes ante AgamemnonaMulti, sed omnes illacrymabilesUrgentur, ignotique longaNocte, carent quia vate sacro[1150].'

They whose inferiour exertions are recorded, as serving to explain or illustrate the sayings of such men, may be proud of being thus associated, and of their names being transmitted to posterity, by being appended to an illustrious character.

Before I conclude, I think it proper to say, that I have suppressed[1151]every thing which I thought couldreallyhurt any one now living. Vanity and self-conceit indeed may sometimes suffer. With respect to whatisrelated, I considered it my duty to 'extenuate nothing, nor set down aught in malice[1152];' and with those lighter strokes of Dr. Johnson's satire, proceeding from a warmth and quickness of imagination, not from any malevolence of heart, and which, on account of their excellence, could not be omitted, I trust that they who are the subject of them have good sense and good temper enough not to be displeased.

I have only to add, that I shall ever reflect with great pleasure on a Tour, which has been the means of preserving so much of the enlightened and instructive conversation of one whose virtues will, I hope, ever be an object of imitation, and whose powers of mind were so extraordinary, that ages may revolve before such a man shall again appear.

No. I.

In justice to the ingeniousDR. BLACKLOCK,I publish the following letter from him, relative to a passage in p. 47.

'TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.

'DEAR SIR,

'Having lately had the pleasure of reading your account of the journey which you took with Dr. Samuel Johnson to the Western Isles, I take the liberty of transmitting my ideas of the conversation which happened between the doctor and myself concerning Lexicography and Poetry, which, as it is a little different from the delineation exhibited in the former edition of yourJournal, cannot, I hope, be unacceptable; particularly since I have been informed that a second edition of that work is now in contemplation, if not in execution: and I am still more strongly tempted to encourage that hope, from considering that, if every one concerned in the conversations related, were to send you what they can recollect of these colloquial entertainments, many curious and interesting particulars might be recovered, which the most assiduous attention could not observe, nor the most tenacious memory retain. A little reflection, Sir, will convince you, that there is not an axiom in Euclid more intuitive nor more evident than the doctor's assertion that poetry was of much easier execution than lexicography. Any mind therefore endowed with common sense, must have been extremely absent from itself, if it discovered the least astonishment from hearing that a poem might be written with much more facility than the same quantity of a dictionary.

'The real cause of my surprise was what appeared to me much more paradoxical, that he could write a sheet of dictionarywith as much pleasureas a sheet of poetry. He acknowledged, indeed, that the latter was much easier than the former. For in the one case, books and a desk were requisite; in the other, you might compose when lying in bed, or walking in the fields, &c. He did not, however, descend to explain, nor to this moment can I comprehend, how the labours of a mere Philologist, in the most refined sense of that term, could give equal pleasure with the exercise of a mind replete with elevated conceptions and pathetic ideas, while taste, fancy, and intellect were deeply enamoured of nature, and in full exertion. You may likewise, perhaps, remember, that when I complained of the ground which Scepticism in religion and morals was continually gaining, it did not appear to be on my own account, as my private opinions upon these important subjects had long been inflexibly determined. What I then deplored, and still deplore, was the unhappy influence which that gloomy hesitation had, not only upon particular characters, but even upon life in general; as being equally the bane of action in our present state, and of such consolations as we might derive from the hopes of a future.

'I have the pleasure of remaining with sincere esteem and respect,

'Dear Sir,

'Your most obedient humble servant,

'THOMAS BLACKLOCK.'

'Edinburgh, Nov. 12, 1785.'

I am very happy to find that Dr. Blacklock's apparent uneasiness on the subject of Scepticism was not on his own account, (as I supposed) but from a benevolent concern for the happiness of mankind. With respect, however, to the question concerning poetry, and composing a dictionary, I am confident that my state of Dr. Johnson's position is accurate. One may misconceive the motive by which a person is induced to discuss a particular topick (as in the case of Dr. Blacklock's speaking of Scepticism); but an assertion, like that made by Dr. Johnson, cannot be easily mistaken. And indeed it seems not very probable, that he who so pathetically laments thedrudgery[1153]to which the unhappy lexicographer is doomed, and is known to have written his splendid imitation ofJuvenalwith astonishing rapidity[1154], should have had 'as much pleasure in writing a sheet of a dictionary as a sheet of poetry[1155].' Nor can I concur with the ingenious writer of the foregoing letter, in thinking it an axiom as evident as any in Euclid, that 'poetry is of easier execution than lexicography.' I have no doubt that Bailey[1156], and the 'mighty blunderbuss of law[1157],' Jacob, wrote ten pages of their respectiveDictionarieswith more ease than they could have written five pages of poetry.

If this book should again be reprinted, I shall with the utmost readiness correct any errours I may have committed, in stating conversations, provided it can be clearly shewn to me that I have been inaccurate. But I am slow to believe, (as I have elsewhere observed[1158]) that any man's memory, at the distance of several years, can preserve facts or sayings with such fidelity as may be done by writing them down when they are recent: and I beg it may be remembered, that it is not uponmemory, but upon what waswritten at the time, that the authenticity of myJournalrests.

No. II.

Verses written by Sir Alexander (now Lord) Macdonald; addressed and presented to Dr. Johnson, at Armidale in the Isle of Sky[1159].

Viator, o qui nostra per aequoraVisurus agros Skiaticos venis,En te salutantes tributimUndique conglomerantur oris.Donaldiani,—quotquot in insulisCompescit arctis limitibus mare;Alitque jamdudum, ac alendosPiscibus indigenas fovebit.Ciere fluctus siste, Procelliger,Nec tu laborans perge, precor, ratis,Ne conjugem plangat marita,Ne doleat soboles parentem.Nec te vicissim poeniteat virumLuxisse;—vestro scimus ut aestuantIn corde luctantes dolores,Cum feriant inopina corpus.Quidni! peremptum clade tuentibusPlus semper illo qui moritur patiDatur, doloris dum profundosPervia mens aperit recessus.Valete luctus;—hinc lacrymabilesArcete visus:—ibimus, ibimusSuperbienti qua theatroFingaliae memorantur aulae.Illustris hospes! mox spatiabereQua mens ruinae ducta meatibusGaudebit explorare coetus,Buccina qua cecinit triumphos;Audin? resurgens spirat anhelituDux usitato, suscitat efficaxPoeta manes, ingruitqueVi solitâ redivivus horror.Ahaena quassans tela gravi manuSic ibat atrox Ossiani pater:Quiescat urnâ, stet fidelisPhersonius vigil ad favillam.

THE LIFE OF SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL.D.

BYJAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.

Mr. Boswell has been collecting materials for this work for more than twenty years, during which he was honoured with the intimate friendship of Dr. Johnson; to whose memory he is ambitious to erect a literary monument, worthy of so great an authour, and so excellent a man. Dr. Johnson was well informed of his design, and obligingly communicated to him several curious particulars. With these will be interwoven the most authentick accounts that can be obtained from those who knew him best; many sketches of his conversation on a multiplicity of subjects, with various persons, some of them the most eminent of the age; a great number of letters from him at different periods, and several original pieces dictated by him to Mr. Boswell, distinguished by that peculiar energy, which marked every emanation of his mind.

Mr. Boswell takes this opportunity of gratefully acknowledging the many valuable communications which he has received to enable him to render hisLife of Dr. Johnsonmore complete. His thanks are particularly due to the Rev. Dr. Adams, the Rev. Dr. Taylor, Sir Joshua Reynolds, Mr. Langton, Dr. Brocklesby, the Rev. Thomas Warton, Mr. Hector of Birmingham, Mrs. Porter, and Miss Seward.

He has already obtained a large collection of Dr. Johnson's letters to his friends, and shall be much obliged for such others as yet remain in private hands; which he is the more desirous of collecting, as all the letters of that great man, which he has yet seen, are written with peculiar precision and elegance; and he is confident that the publication of the whole of Dr. Johnson's epistolary correspondence will do him the highest honour.

(Page80.)

As no one reads Warburton now—I bought the five volumes of hisDivine Legationin excellent condition, bound in calf, for ten pence—one or two extracts from his writing may be of interest. His Dedication of that work to the Free-Thinkers is as vigorous as it is abusive. It has such passages as the following:—'Low and mean as your buffoonery is, it is yet to the level of the people:' p. xi. 'I have now done with your buffoonery, which, like chewed bullets, is against the law of arms; and come next to your scurrilities, those stink-pots of your offensive war.'Ib. p. xxii. On page xl. he returns again to their 'coldbuffoonery.' In the Appendix to vol. v, p. 414, he thus wittily replies to Lowth, who had maintained that 'idolatry was punished under the DOMINION of Melchisedec'(p. 409):—'Melchisedec's story is a short one; he is just brought into the scene toblessAbraham in his return from conquest. This promises but ill. Had thisKing and Priest of Salembeen brought incursing, it had had a better appearance: for, I think, punishment for opinions which generally ends in afagotalways begins with acurse. But we may be misled perhaps by a wrong translation. The Hebrew word toblesssignifies likewise tocurse, and under the management of an intolerant priest good things easily run into their contraries. What follows is his takingtythesfrom Abraham. Nor will this serve our purpose, unless we interpret thesetythesintofines for non-conformity; and then by theblessingwe can easily understandabsolution. We have seen much stranger things done with theHebrew verity. If this be not allowed, I do not see how we can elicit fire and fagot from this adventure; for I think there is no inseparable connexion betweentythesandpersecutionbut in the ideas of a Quaker.—And so much for King Melchisedec. But the learnedProfessor, who has been hardily brought up in the keen atmosphere of WHOLESOME SEVERITIES and early taught to distinguish betweende factoandde jure, thought it 'needless to enquire intofacts, when he was secure of theright'.

This 'keen atmosphere of wholesome severities' reappears by the way in Mason's continuation of Gray's Ode to Vicissitude:—

'That breathes the keen yet wholesome airOf rugged penury.'

And later in the first book of Wordsworth'sExcursion(ed. 1857, vi. 29):—

'The keen, the wholesome air of poverty.'

Johnson said of Warburton: 'His abilities gave him an haughty confidence, which he disdained to conceal or mollify; and his impatience of opposition disposed him to treat his adversaries with such contemptuous superiority as made his readers commonly his enemies, and excited against the advocate the wishes of some who favoured the cause. He seems to have adopted the Roman Emperour's determination,oderint dum metuant; he used no allurements of gentle language, but wished to compel rather than persuade.' Johnson'sWorks, viii. 288. Seeante, ii. 36, and iv. 46.

(Page158.)

Johnson's Ode written in Sky was thus translated by Lord Houghton:—

'Where constant mist enshrouds the rocks,Shattered in earth's primeval shocks,And niggard Nature ever mocksThe labourer's toil,I roam through clans of savage men,Untamed by arts, untaught by pen;Or cower within some squalid denO'er reeking soil.Through paths that halt from stone to stone,Amid the din of tongues unknown,One image haunts my soul alone,Thine, gentle Thrale!Soothes she, I ask, her spouse's care?Does mother-love its charge prepare?Stores she her mind with knowledge rare,Or lively tale?

Forget me not! thy faith I claim,Holding a faith that cannot die,That fills with thy benignant nameThese shores of Sky.'

Hayward'sPiozzi, i. 29.

(Page307.)

Johnson's use of the wordbig, where he says 'I wish thy books were twice as big,' enables me to explain a passage inThe Life of Johnson (ante, iii. 348) which had long puzzled me. Boswell there represents him as saying:—'A man who loses at play, or who runs out his fortune at court, makes his estate less, in hopes of making itbigger.' Boswell adds in a parenthesis:—'I am sure of this word, which was often used by him.' He had been criticised by a writer in theGent. Mag. 1785, p. 968, who quoting from the text the words 'abigbook,' says:—'Mr. Boswell has made his friend (as in a few other passages) guilty of aScotticism. An Englishman reads and writes alargebook, and wears agreat(not abigorbag) coat.' When Boswell came to publishThe Life of Johnson, he took the opportunity to justify himself, though he did not care to refer directly to his anonymous critic. This explanation I discovered too late to insert in the text.

INTO

NORTH WALES,

THE YEAR 1774.[1160]

TUESDAY, JULY 5.

We left Streatham 11 a.m. Price of four horses 2s. a mile.

JULY 6.

Barnet 1.40 p.m. On the road I read Tully'sEpistles. At night at Dunstable. To Lichfield, 83 miles. To the Swan[1161].

JULY 7.

To Mrs. Porter's[1162]. To the Cathedral. To Mrs. Aston's. To Mr. Green's. Mr. Green's Museum was much admired, and Mr. Newton's china.

JULY 8.

To Mr. Newton's. To Mrs. Cobb's. Dr. Darwin's[1163]. I went again to Mrs. Aston's. She was sorry to part.

JULY 9.

Breakfasted at Mr. Garrick's. Visited Miss Vyse[1164]. Miss Seward. Went to Dr. Taylor's. I read a little on the road in Tully'sEpistlesandMartial. Mart. 8th, 44, 'lino pro limo[1165].'

JULY 10.

Morning, at church. Company at dinner.

JULY 11.

At Ham[1166]. At Oakover. I was less pleased with Ham than when I saw it first, but my friends were much delighted.

JULY 12.

At Chatsworth. The Water willow. The cascade shot out from many spouts. The fountains[1167]. The water tree[1168]. The smooth floors in the highest rooms. Atlas, fifteen hands inch and half[1169].

River running through the park. The porticoes on the sides support two galleries for the first floor.

My friends were not struck with the house. It fell below my ideas of the furniture. The staircase is in the corner of the house. The hall in the corner the grandest room, though only a room of passage.

On the ground-floor, only the chapel and breakfast-room, and a small library; the rest, servants' rooms and offices[1170].

A bad inn.

JULY 13.

At Matlock.

JULY 14.

At dinner at Oakover; too deaf to hear, or much converse. Mrs. Gell.

The chapel at Oakover. The wood of the pews grossly painted. I could not read the epitaph. Would learn the old hands.

JULY 15.

At Ashbourn. Mrs. Diot and her daughters came in the morning. Mr. Diot dined with us. We visited Mr. Flint.

[Greek: To proton Moros, to de deuteron ei en Erasmos,To triton ek Mouson stemma Mikullos echei.][1171]

JULY 16.

At Dovedale, with Mr. Langley[1172]and Mr. Flint. It is a place that deserves a visit; but did not answer my expectation. The river is small, the rocks are grand. Reynard's Hall is a cave very high in the rock; it goes backward several yards, perhaps eight. To the left is a small opening, through which I crept, and found another cavern, perhaps four yards square; at the back was a breach yet smaller, which I could not easily have entered, and, wanting light, did not inspect.

I was in a cave yet higher, called Reynard's Kitchen. There is a rock called the Church, in which I saw no resemblance that could justify the name.

Dovedale is about two miles long. We walked towards the head of the Dove, which is said to rise about five miles above two caves called the Dog-holes, at the end of Dovedale.

In one place, where the rocks approached, I proposed to build an arch from rock to rock over the stream, with a summer-house upon it.

The water murmured pleasantly among the stones.

I thought that the heat and exercise mended my hearing. I bore the fatigue of the walk, which was very laborious, without inconvenience.

There were with us Gilpin[1173]and Parker[1174]. Having heard of this place before, I had formed some imperfect idea, to which it did not answer. Brown[1175]says he was disappointed. I certainly expected a larger river where I found only a clear quick brook. I believe I had imaged a valley enclosed by rocks, and terminated by a broad expanse of water.

He that has seen Dovedale has no need to visit the Highlands.

In the afternoon we visited old Mrs. Dale.

JULY 17.

Sunday morning, at church.

Afternoon, at Mr. Diot's.

JULY 18.

Dined at Mr. Gell's[1176].

JULY 19.

We went to Kedleston[1177]to see Lord Scarsdale's new house, which is very costly, but ill contrived. The hall is very stately, lighted by three skylights; it has two rows of marble pillars, dug, as I hear from Langley, in a quarry of Northamptonshire; the pillars are very large and massy, and take up too much room; they were better away. Behind the hall is a circular saloon, useless, and therefore ill contrived.

The corridors that join the wings to the body are mere passages through segments of circles. The state bed-chamber was very richly furnished. The dining parlour was more splendid with gilt plate than any that I have seen. There were many pictures. The grandeur was all below. The bedchambers were small, low, dark, and fitter for a prison than a house of splendour. The kitchen has an opening into the gallery, by which its heat and its fumes are dispersed over the house. There seemed in the whole more cost than judgment.

We went then to the silk mill at Derby[1178], where I remarked a particular manner of propagating motion from a horizontal to a vertical wheel.

We were desired to leave the men only two shillings. Mr. Thrale's bill at the inn for dinner was eighteen shillings and tenpence.

At night I went to Mr. Langley's, Mrs. Wood's, Captain Astle, &c.

JULY 20.

We left Ashbourn and went to Buxton, thence to Pool's Hole, which is narrow at first, but then rises into a high arch; but is so obstructed with crags, that it is difficult to walk in it. There are two ways to the end, which is, they say, six hundred and fifty yards from the mouth. They take passengers up the higher way, and bring them back the lower. The higher way was so difficult and dangerous, that, having tried it, I desisted. I found no level part.

At night we came to Macclesfield, a very large town in Cheshire, little known. It has a silk mill: it has a handsome church, which, however, is but a chapel, for the town belongs to some parish of another name[1179], as Stourbridge lately did to Old Swinford.

Macclesfield has a town-hall, and is, I suppose, a corporate town.

JULY 21.

We came to Congleton, where there is likewise a silk mill. Then to Middlewich, a mean old town, without any manufacture, but, I think, a Corporation. Thence we proceeded to Namptwich, an old town: from the inn, I saw scarcely any but black timber houses. I tasted the brine water, which contains much more salt than the sea water. By slow evaporation, they make large crystals of salt; by quick boiling, small granulations. It seemed to have no other preparation.

At evening we came to Combermere[1180], so called from a wide lake.

JULY 22.

We went upon the Mere. I pulled a bulrush of about ten feet. I saw no convenient boats upon the Mere.

JULY 23.

We visited Lord Kilmorey's house[1181]. It is large and convenient, with many rooms, none of which are magnificently spacious. The furniture was not splendid. The bed-curtains were guarded[1182]. Lord Kilmorey shewed the place with too much exultation. He has no park, and little water[1183].

JULY 24.

We went to a chapel, built by Sir Lynch Cotton for his tenants. It is consecrated, and therefore, I suppose, endowed. It is neat and plain. The Communion plate is handsome. It has iron pales and gates of great elegance, brought from Lleweney, 'for Robert has laid all open[1184].'

We saw Hawkestone, the seat of Sir Rowland Hill, and were conducted by Miss Hill over a large tract of rocks and woods; a region abounding with striking scenes and terrifick grandeur. We were always on the brink of a precipice, or at the foot of a lofty rock; but the steeps were seldom naked: in many places, oaks of uncommon magnitude shot up from the crannies of stone; and where there were not tall trees, there were underwoods and bushes.

Round the rocks is a narrow patch cut upon the stone, which is very frequently hewn into steps; but art has proceeded no further than to make the succession of wonders safely accessible. The whole circuit is somewhat laborious; it is terminated by a grotto cut in a rock to a great extent, with many windings, and supported by pillars, not hewn into regularity, but such as imitate the sports of nature, by asperities and protuberances.

The place is without any dampness, and would afford an habitation not uncomfortable. There were from space to space seats in the rock. Though it wants water, it excels Dovedale by the extent of its prospects, the awfulness of its shades, the horrors of its precipices, the verdure of its hollows, and the loftiness of its rocks: the ideas which it forces upon the mind are, the sublime, the dreadful, and the vast. Above is inaccessible altitude, below is horrible profundity. But it excels the garden of Ilam only in extent.

Ilam has grandeur, tempered with softness; the walker congratulates his own arrival at the place, and is grieved to think that he must ever leave it. As he looks up to the rocks, his thoughts are elevated; as he turns his eyes on the vallies, he is composed and soothed.

He that mounts the precipices at Hawkestone, wonders how he came thither, and doubts how he shall return. His walk is an adventure, and his departure an escape. He has not the tranquillity, but the horror, of solitude; a kind of turbulent pleasure, between fright and admiration.

Ilam is the fit abode of pastoral virtue, and might properly diffuse its shades over Nymphs and Swains. Hawkestone can have no fitter inhabitants than giants of mighty bone and bold emprise[1185]; men of lawless courage and heroic violence. Hawkestone should be described by Milton, and Ilam by Parnel.

Miss Hill shewed the whole succession of wonders with great civility. The house was magnificent, compared with the rank of the owner.

JULY 26.

We left Combermere, where we have been treated with great civility. Sir L. is gross, the lady weak and ignorant. The house is spacious, but not magnificent; built at different times, with different materials; part is of timber, part of stone or brick, plastered and painted to look like timber. It is the best house that I ever saw of that kind.

The Mere, or Lake, is large, with a small island, on which there is a summer-house, shaded with great trees; some were hollow, and have seats in their trunks.

In the afternoon we came to West-Chester; (my father went to the fair, when I had the small-pox). We walked round the walls, which are compleat, and contain one mile three quarters, and one hundred and one yards; within them are many gardens: they are very high, and two may walk very commodiously side by side. On the inside is a rail. There are towers from space to space, not very frequent, and, I think, not all compleat[1186].

JULY 27.

We staid at Chester and saw the Cathedral, which is not of the first rank. The Castle. In one of the rooms the Assizes are held, and the refectory of the Old Abbey, of which part is a grammar school. The master seemed glad to see me. The cloister is very solemn; over it are chambers in which the singing men live.

In one part of the street was a subterranean arch, very strongly built; in another, what they called, I believe rightly, a Roman hypocaust.

Chester has many curiosities.

JULY 28.

We entered Wales, dined at Mold, and came to Lleweney[1187].

JULY 29.

We were at Lleweney.

In the lawn at Lleweney is a spring of fine water, which rises above the surface into a stone basin, from which it runs to waste, in a continual stream, through a pipe.

There are very large trees.

The Hall at Lleweney is forty feet long, and twenty-eight broad. The gallery one hundred and twenty feet long, (all paved.) The Library forty-two feet long, and twenty-eight broad. The Dining-parlours thirty-six feet long, and twenty-six broad.

It is partly sashed, and partly has casements.

JULY 30.

We went to Bâch y Graig, where we found an old house, built 1567, in an uncommon and incommodious form. My Mistress[1188]chattered about tiring, but I prevailed on her to go to the top. The floors have been stolen: the windows are stopped.

The house was less than I seemed to expect; the river Clwyd is a brook with a bridge of one arch, about one third of a mile.

The woods[1189]have many trees, generally young; but some which seem to decay. They have been lopped. The house never had a garden. The addition of another story would make an useful house, but it cannot be great. Some buildings which Clough, the founder, intended for warehouses, would make store-chambers and servants' rooms[1190]. The ground seems to be good. I wish it well.

JULY 31. We went to church at St. Asaph. The Cathedral, though not large, has something of dignity and grandeur. The cross aisle is very short. It has scarcely any monuments. The Quire has, I think, thirty-two stalls of antique workmanship. On the backs were CANONICUS, PREBEND, CANCELLARIUS, THESAURARIUS, PRAECENTOR. The constitution I do not know, but it has all the usual titles and dignities. The service was sung only in the Psalms and Hymns.

The Bishop was very civil[1191]. We went to his palace, which is but mean. They have a library, and design a room. There lived Lloyd[1192]and Dodwell[1193].

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