RIPON AND ITS VICINITY. 
Boiron Priory, 24 miles from Ripon, 16 from Harrogate, and 6 
from Ilkley, can be reached either by a direct drive, or by rail to 
Tikley and thence by conveyance. “Of the many attractions which 
Yorkshire offers to the selection of its visitors, and to the frequent 
enjoyment of its inhabitants, none should be preferred to that of a 
‘Summer’s Day at Botton Priory.’ Its elegant ruins, and its 
unusually picturesque scenery cannot fai] to charm every lover of the 
beautiful in Nature and Art. There nature, and art, and time have 
worked congenially; and, over their united triumph, genius, and wis- 
dom, and virtue, and all that can exalt and ennuble human nature, or 
invest one spot of earth with a superior interest, have shed their undy- 
ing influence and associations. The ruins of this celebrated Priory stand 
upon a beautiful curvature of the Wharfe, sufficiently elevated to 
protect it from inundation, and low enough for every purpose of 
picturesque effect; in which respect, the competent judgement of 
Whitaker has pronounced that ‘It has no equal among the northern 
houses—perhaps not in the kingdom.’ _ Its site is so shut in by rising 
ground and embosomed in trees, that the visitor, who has come from 
Harrogate, across the wilds of Knaresborough forest, may not be 
aware that he is approaching it, until he is almost on the spot.” 
Speaking of the Strid, Mr. Walbran says :—“ About half a mile above 
Bolton the valley closes, and on either side the Wharfe is overhung 
by deep and solemn woods, from which huge perpendicular masses of 
gritstone jut out at intervals. For awhile, the river sweeps on in 
majestic undulations, exasperated by rocks and swelled by a tributary 
stream bursting from a woody glen, exhibiting its native character— 
lively, irregular, and impetuous. Then for a few moments it reposes 
by a delicious and verdant holm ; lingering noislessly in the shade of 
luxuriant trees whose slanting boughs stoop to kiss its bosom. At 
length, its subdued and solemn roar, ‘like the voice of the angry spirit 
of the waters’ disturbs the deep solitude of the woods, and announces 
the tremendous STRID, where it suddenly greets the eye struggling 
and foaming in the narrow trench of the rock, through which the 
whole of the impetuous torrent is poured ‘with a rapidity pro- 
portioned to its confinement.’” Latracts from Walbran’s Summer's Day 
at Bolton Priory. 
