ed only by the powers of human vision, are neither so beautiful nor so gratifying as those which are circumscribed by picturesque outlines. I have often had finer views from the base of a mountain than its extreme summit, where every thing was confused and indistinct.

The whole of this vale and adjacent country is full of fine rural beauties, and abounds with interesting local associations. I wandered from the centre of the village, almost every day, for four or five days, in different directions, and every where found objects and combinations of objects, that attracted my attention. Among others, I one day stumbled by chance upon the site of Owen Glendower's palace, which is marked by a clump of old trees growing on an eminence. Glendower, like almost every man of great abilities in those days, at least among the Welsh, was reputed by the English a magician: if Glendower escaped their snares, or gave them a defeat, they saved their credit by ascribing both one and the other to the aid of necromancy. The ignorant, in an age of ignorance, are prone to believe this, for they have in their own minds and resources nothing that can enable them to comprehend the powers of a great genius. Glendower, after baffling the arts of the English, and fighting with his neighbour, Grey of Ruthyn, about boundaries and what not, for many years, finding himself overmatched, retired into private life, and died quietly in his bed, I believe. He left three daughters, one of whom married an ancestor of that Scudamore, whose descendant I mentioned as the friend of Pope. His posterity is numerous still, and connected, in various ways, with many of the first families in Great Britain. But he is best known, and will for ever remain best known, as associated with the Henry Percy and the Douglas, in the imperishable works of

Shakspeare. It is from that circumstance alone, that I have been induced to sketch this little biography. The name of Owen Glendower would never have been familiar to every body in our country, had it not been mentioned by the bard, who has given many passports to immortality.

Having spent several days at Llangollan, roaming and rambling about with infinite satisfaction, I returned by the way of Chirck Castle, on the road to which, I should have mentioned the famous Offa's Dyke, said to be the ancient boundary between England and Wales. It might be the boundary between two wheat fields, or vineyards, for it is sufficiently insignificant. From hence I proceeded towards the river Dee; crossed it by a bridge in a deep vale or ravine, and reconnoitred Wynnestay, which is a noble seat of Sir Watkyns Williams Wynn, and, as the talk goes, is soon to be consecrated by the presence of no less a visiter than king George. This will be matter for the Wynns to talk about as long as there is half a one left. I then turned towards Wrexham, which has nothing but a tower steeple to recommend it. From thence to Gressford; and after stopping to view a fine prospect, through Shropshire and Cheshire, crossed the Dee to the ancient and certainly very curious city of Chester, which I visited previously to continuing my picturesque tour, for the purpose of *********** ̧

Chester is one of the most respectable old cities I have ever seen there is an air of originality about it too, that makes it quite an object of interest. It does not appear to have much business; yet, from being the residence of many opulent families, not only natives, but from Ireland and the neighbouring Wales, it has not that intolerable air of decay and total stagnation, which I have generally observed in those ancient dozing places.

The people seemed actually inclined to politeness, which was quite new to me; and there were various genteel amusements for evenings, that are always a great relief to a stranger. Nobody ever carries an umbrella here, as the covered galleries that extend all along the streets on either side, like piazzas, jutting out from the second story, afford a safe walk for foot-passengers. Nevertheless, I was assured that a cunning fellow, a real John Bull, observing there was no umbrellamaker in all the city, thought to make a fortune by commencing the business. He succeeded wonderfully; for, though he failed in business, he became entitled to the privileges of pauperism, which are now beginning to be considered by the common people equivalent to a freehold. The walk on the rampart of Chester, is a most singular and delightful promenade. In short, brother, there is more novelty in old Chester, than in many of the new towns in England. There is a cathedral, but old, and rather uninteresting. A castle too, but it is gone to decay. Let it go-they are only memorials of feudal wars and feudal slavery; and wherever they abound, one may be sure there is oppression on the one hand, and suffering on the other. They were among the strongest links in the chain of feudal slavery, and stood as monuments of the abject situation of the people, whose labour was employed at the will of the liege-lord, in erecting these strong holds, by the possession of which he was the better enabled to keep them in subjection. The late royal residence of Windsor Castle is indebted for its magnitude and massive magnificence, to labourers impressed from all parts of the kingdom, by the mere prerogative of the king. Indeed I am inclined to believe, there never was any age of the world so overrated, as that called the age of chivalry. If we analyze it

closely, what rude manners, what barbarous customs, what a chain of slavery and oppression shall we find! Petty tyrants perpetually at war with each other-murder and usurpation cherished as the highest titles to heroism and glory-vassals crushed beneath the despotism of an ignorant and ferocious liege-lord; at the same time retorting this oppression with ample interest upon wretched vassals less powerful, who, in their turn, carried their abuse of power even to the abodes of abject penury, where resided the serfs, whose iron collars proclaimed them, like other beasts, the property of a brutal master. It was a galling chain, the links of which extended from the lowest serf of the field to the sovereign, whose authority was limited only by his power, and who, destitute of that, became the victim, or the slave of his slave.

In that age a man was of far less value than the beast he rode. I have read that Hugh Dechamps Fleury, a French bishop, gave five serfs, three men, and two women, for a horse, that he might enter his diocess well mounted. In those days, too, christian white people were sold to slavery in Africa, the place which now supplies the rest of the world with slaves. In fact, this system of feudal despotism had communicated brutality to manners, sanctified ignorance, and given to guilt and power full latitude, by the certainty of impunity. Power and right were the same-the strongest was ever in the right, and the art of combat the only one in repute. To guide the horse, wield the spear and sword, obtained the preference over the most estimable virtues, as well as the most brilliant accomplishments. That this age exhibits examples of heroic virtues and splendid actions, is not to be denied; but, beyond all doubt, it is indebted for most of our admiration to the early impressions, produced by the exaggerations of romance, and the embellishments of poetry.

LETTER IX.

London.

DEAR BROTHER,

FROM Chester I again penetrated into Wales, passing along the borders of Flintshire, a small county, apparently pretty much divided among marshes and mountains. The old capital lies buried in a marsh along the river Dee, and Holywell is now the principal mart of this part of the country. The neighbourhood contains a great many manufactories, and is, of course, distressed and disaffected. Holywell, like all the manufacturing towns I have seen, is tinged with black smoke, and presents a disagreeable aspect. Below the town is a glen, where the manufactories are placed, on a fine stream flowing from St. Winifred's well, which, I believe, has lost all its medicinal virtues, ever since the waters were prostituted to these mechanical purposes. The mills and manufactories are principally for brass and copper; and it is hardly possible for me to describe the wretched, cadaverous, and unwholesome looks of the workmen in these metals. One might almost be tempted to conclude that the conveniences of life were too dearly purchased at the expense of such unhealthy employments. I felt grateful to Providence, that our countrymen were, as yet, permitted to exchange the fruits of labours that