,' says Dr. Whitaker in his excellent book, _The History
and Antiquities of the Deanery of Craven_, 'stands upon a beautiful
curvature of the Wharf, on a level sufficiently elevated to protect it
from inundations, and low enough for every purpose of picturesque
effect.

'Opposite to the east window of the Priory Church the river washes the
foot of a rock nearly perpendicular, and of the richest purple, where
several of the mineral beds, which break out, instead of maintaining
their usual inclination to the horizon, are twisted by some
inconceivable process into undulating and spiral lines. To the south all
is soft and delicious; the eye reposes upon a few rich pastures, a
moderate reach of the river, sufficiently tranquil to form a mirror to
the sun, and the bounding hills beyond, neither too near nor too lofty
to exclude, even in winter, any portion of his rays.

'But, after all, the glories of Bolton are on the north. Whatever the
most fastidious taste could require to constitute a perfect landscape,
is not only found here, but in its proper place. In front, and
immediately under the eye, is a smooth expanse of park-like enclosure,
spotted with native elm, ash, &c. of the finest growth: on the right a
skirting oak wood, with jutting points of grey rock; on the left a
rising copse. Still forward are seen the aged groves of Bolton Park, the
growth of centuries; and farther yet, the barren and rocky distances of
Simonseat and Barden Fell contrasted with the warmth, fertility, and
luxuriant foliage of the valley below.

'About half a mile above Bolton the valley closes, and either side of
the Wharf is overhung by solemn woods, from which huge perpendicular
masses of grey rock jut out at intervals.

'This sequestered scene was almost inaccessible till of late, that
ridings have been cut on both sides of the river, and the most
interesting points laid open by judicious thinnings in the woods. Here a
tributary stream rushes from a waterfall, and bursts through a woody
glen to mingle its waters with the Wharf: there the Wharf itself is
nearly lost in a deep cleft in the rock, and next becomes a horned flood
enclosing a woody island--sometimes it reposes for a moment, and then
resumes its native character, lively, irregular, and impetuous.

'The cleft mentioned above is the tremendous STRID. This chasm, being
incapable of receiving the winter floods, has formed on either side a
broad strand of naked gritstone full of rock