Neither in Lynmouth nor Lynton is there much to be seen in the way of buildings. The beauties here are the handiwork of Nature, not of man. And magnificent handiwork it is. Whether you stand upon the bridge by the Lyndale hotel and gaze up the foaming river hemmed in by crag-topped and wooded hills meeting in graceful lines - as on the Teign about Fingle - or explore the recesses of Glen Lyn where the smaller stream descends 400 feet in half a mile; whether you follow the North Walk cut in the face of the cliff below the gray bastions of the Valley of rocks; whether, lying among the bracken, you look down upon lovely Lee Bay, or, stretched upon the short turf of the Foreland, take in almost at one glance the tiny "haven under the hill" and the mountains of Wales across the blue expanse of channel, you will have to confess that man has had little to do with the panorama, except here and there to mar it. Still, on the whole, the "English Switzerland" has suffered less than might be expected, and even with the best intentions it would be no easy matter to destroy the charm of this most lovely spot.

[Text may be taken from a different source or edition than that listed as the source by Somers Cocks.]