the name of a mountain in Caernarvon-thire in Wales, generally thought to be the highest in Britain; though some have been of opinion that its height is equalled, or even exceeded, by mountains in the Highlands of Scotland. The mountain is surrounded by many others, called in the Welsh language Crib Coch, Crib y Difill, Llirwedd yr Arran, &c.

According to Mr Pennant*, this mountainous tract* Journey yields scarcely any corn. Its produce is cattle and sheep; to Snowdon, which, during summer, keep very high in the mountains, followed by their owners with their families, who reside during that season in havodtyr, or "summer dairy-houses," as the farmers in the Swiss Alps do in their fennes. These houses consist of a long low room, with a hole at one end to let out the smoke from the fire which is made beneath. Their furniture is very simple; stones are substituted for stools, and their beds are of hay, ranged along the sides. They manufacture their own clothes, and dye them with the lichen omphaloides and lichen parietinus, moles collected from the rocks. During summer the men pass their time in tending their herds or in making hay, &c. and the women in milking or in making butter and cheese. For their own use they milk both ewes and goats, and make cheese of the milk. Their diet consists of milk, cheese, and butter; and their ordinary drink is whey; though they have, by way of reserve, a few bottles of very strong beer, which they use as a cordial when sick. They are people of good understanding, wary, and circumspect; tall, thin, thin, and of strong constitutions. In the winter-time they descend into the hen-dref, or "old dwelling," where they pass their time in inactivity.

The view from the highest peak of Snowdon is very extensive. From it Mr Pennant saw the county of Chester, the high hills of Yorkshire, part of the north of England, Scotland, and Ireland; a plain view of the isle of Man; and that of Anglesea appeared like a map extended under his feet, with every rivulet visible. Our author took much pains to have this view to advantage; sat up at a farm on the west till about 12, and walked up the whole way. The night was remarkably fine and hazy; towards morning the stars faded away, leaving an interval of darkness, which, however, was soon dispelled by the dawn of day. The body of the sun appeared most distinct, with the roundness of the moon, before it appeared too brilliant to be looked at. The sea, which bounded the western part of the prospect, appeared gilt with the sun-beams, first in slender streaks, and at length glowed with redness. The prospect was disclosed like the gradual drawing up of a curtain in a theatre; till at last the heat became sufficiently strong to raise mists from the various lakes, which in a slight degree obscured the prospect. The shadow of the mountain extended many miles, and showed its bicipitated form; the Wyddfa making one head, and Crib y Dfisill the other. At this time he counted between 20 and 30 lakes either in Caernarvon or in Merionethshire. In making another visit, the sky was obscured very soon after he got up. A vast mist involved the whole circuit of the mountain, and the prospect down was horrible. It gave an idea of numbers of abysses, concealed by a thick smoke furiously circulating around them. Very often a gust of wind made an opening in the clouds, which gave a fine and distinct vista of lake and valley. Sometimes they opened in one place, at others in many at once; exhibiting a most strange and perplexing sight of water, fields, rocks, and chafts. They then closed again, and every thing was involved in darkness; in a few minutes they would separate again, and repeat the above-mentioned scene with infinite variety. From this prospect our traveller descended with great reluctance; but before he had reached the place where his horses were left, he was overtaken by a thunder storm. The rolling of the thunder-claps, being reiterated by the mountains, was inexpressibly awful; and after he had mounted, he was in great danger of being swept away by the torrents which poured down in consequence of a very heavy rain.

It is very rare (Mr Pennant observes) that the traveller gets a proper day to ascend this hill: it indeed often appears clear; but by the evident attraction of the clouds by this lofty mountain, it becomes suddenly and unexpectedly enveloped in mist, when the clouds have just before appeared very high and very remote. At times he observed them lower to half their height; and notwithstanding they have been dispersed to the right and left, yet they have met from both sides, and united to involve the summit in one great obscurity.

The height of Snowdon was measured, in 1682, by Mr Cawell, with instruments made by Flamstead: according to his mensuration, the height is 3720 feet; but more moderate computations make it only 3568, reckoning from the quay at Caernarvon to the highest peak. The stone that composes this mountain is excessively hard. Large coarse crystals, and frequently cubic pyrites, are found in the fissures. An immense quantity of water rushes down the sides of Snowdon and the neighbouring mountains, insomuch that Mr Pennant supposes, if collected into one stream, they would exceed the waters of the Thames.