From the late hour at which I arrived at Conway, the features of the country were invisible to me. On entering the town, where not a light streamed from any cheerful lamp on shore, or ship in the harbour, the idea at first suggested itself that I was entering a deserted city; but, on turning into the broad street leading to the Market-place, the gleam of candles from sundry bed-rooms, and the snarl of several curs, convinced me I was in the land of the living. Luckily the inmates of the Castle Hotel had not all retired to rest, so that I speedily quieted the cravings of hunger. This inn has been rebuilt and rendered very commodious and comfortable since I visited Conway some years before.*

Our older tourists have remarked, that, like a painted sepulchre, Conway is all beauty without, and all ugliness within; and I am sorry I must corroborate their testimony. But the site of the town, on a steep declivity descending to the margin of the river, here nearly a mile in breadth, is in itself extremely fine; and its majestic castle presents from a distance an aspect of singular grandeur. Formerly a curtain, terminating in a round tower, ran out from either end of the town walls into the river, to impede the approach of an enemy by water; but of these one curtain only now remains, the other, with both towers, have long since yielded to time. From the quay is seen a noble view up and down the river, and over the contrajacent country, broken up into swelling hills, and beautified with woods and villas.

The castle, built in 1284, under the eye of Edward I., by the architect, it is supposed, whom he employed in the erection of Caernarvon, is very justly regarded as one of the most beautiful

*The approach to Conway from the Denbighshire side is along a new-made terrace or breakwater, advancing across the greater part of the river's breadth, and, of course, confining the rapid stream to very narrow limits, on the Caernarvonshire side. From this terrace the Chain-bridge appears to be the grand entrance, under triumphal arches, to the Castle itself; and although, on coming close to that venerable structure, there is a sudden turn from it, leading directly to the town, I fancy a party of travellers will never regret, that, instead of being deposited within the naked and roofless walls of the Castle, they are handed into a comfortable parlour at the Castle Inn.-Smith's Guide to Snowdonia.