dence. For the first time in England, among strangers, I was received without inquiry or suspicion, and nothing could exceed the simple reliance with which they placed their house, and all it afforded, at my command True, they had nothing to lose worth taking; yet still it was a rare and pleasing trait of character, and as such I have remembered it, and shall do so as long as I live. Their mode of living in this little village, and indeed throughout all this sequestered region. is such, as our beef, ham, and turkey-eating villains at home, would call starvation. They would not even put up with it in the poor-house or state prison. The cow and the goat furnish them with most of their food; and it is very seldom they get a meal of flesh among them. Yet they are far happier than most of the lower English peasantry, and a hundred times happier than a large portion of the labouring manufacturers. Their wants are few, and their habits are virtuous. Labour is there combined with health, wholesome though simple food, and pure elastic air. In a word, they are apparently happy in their situation, whatever estimate others may form of it, and that is quite enough for them. I met here but with one family, the one where I slept, who talked of going to America when they could get there. Through the medium of the professor, I told them of the old Welsh woman and her husband, who keep your dairy and garden; and when assured, that these ate as much fresh meat as they liked, morning, noon, and night, they cast up their eyes, and clapped their hands in utter astonishment. When I also made them comprehend, that this good couple had saved money enough, in a few years, to buy a hundred and fifty acres of land for themselves and their children, to have and to hold for ever, without lords, rents, tithes, or taxes, they almost shed tears, and for the first time seemed sensible that something was wanting to their happiness. I almost reproached myself for what I had done. On going away, I gave the father your address; and as God shall prosper you, my brother, should they ever find their way to your door, I would have you recollect that they treated me kindly in the mountains of Wales. From Dolwyddellan, I went, through a succession of interesting scenery, to the little village of Aber, which is a good place to halt at, for the purpose of ascending Penmanwaur. From this village, I explored a little glen, deep and romantic, which leads to a famous fall, called Maes-y- Gair or Rhryadr Mawr, I cannot say which, as my note is rather obscure. Here, to use the proper elevation of language, which all the tourists indulge, whenever they want to make a mountain of a molehill-here, the water, a small brook, rushing with indescribable velocity, foams and dashes over a tremendous slate rock, fifty feet high! I made a drawing of this, and some other great falls, with a scrupulous regard to the size and dimensions of objects, which I send with this letter. From these, which, I assure you, are rather heightened than otherwise, you will perceive, how we in America are misled by the high-sounding superlative of tourists, and the unjustifiable hyperbole of picturesque pencils. The Rhryadr Mawr is what we call a pretty little cascade at home. During a dry season, I am told, it is apt to disappear entirely. The winter is the best time for visiting them, only nobody can get there in that season. Near the village of Aber, once stood a castle or palace of Llewellyn ap Gryffyd, Prince of Wales. Tradition has preserved the following tale connected with these ruins. At the siege of some place, Llewellyn took prisoner an English Baron, of the name of William de Breos or de Bruce, whom he carried home, and treated with great hospitality, insomuch that a strong friendship grew up between them. Llewellyn's wife, Joan Plantagenet, daughter of king John, from pitying the captive knight, who was said to be very accomplished and beautiful, realized the affinity between compassion and love, and finally carried on a clandestine intercourse with De Breos. The English knight was afterwards set free, but before Llewellyn had discovered the wrong he had done him. When, however, it came to his knowledge not long afterwards, he invited De Breos to pay him a visit, threw him into a dungeon, and afterwards hanged him at a short distance from the castle upon a little knoll, full in sight. He then drew Joan to the window, and in the words of the legend "Lovely Princess," said Llewellyn, "I'd freely give to see my William." Llewellyn, as might be expected, irritated at this answer, pointed out with horrible satisfaction the body of De Breos, hanging full in view. The lady did not expire at the sight, but lived several years afterwards with her husband, who, it seems, was satisfied with his revenge upon the lover. You must excuse me for troubling you with this stuff; but the fact is, there is little else to be told about these old castles, but tales of unprincipled love and outrageous revenge. Nothing occurred worthy of record between Aber and Caernarvon, whither Inext bent my This last is one of the finest towns in North way. Wales. It is surrounded by walls, which, together with the castle, were more entire than any I had observed in this country. The castle was built by Edward the First, and is admirably situ ated for "curbing the Welsh," as the phrase then was. In one of the small, dark rooms was born Edward the Second, in consequence of the queen being taken there to give the Welshmen a native Prince. He did them very little honour by his birth, for he was, beyond doubt, one of the most weak and worthless monarchs, that ever reigned in England. The views of, and from this castle, are highly picturesque and beautiful, and its preservation, for more than five hundred years, gives it a degree of sublimity approaching to the idea of perpetual duration. Near to Caernarvon are the remains of the ancient Segontium, a Roman station; and parts of a Roman road are still to be traced in the vicinity. The road to Beddgelert passes through it. There are also the vestiges of a Roman fort, consisting of walls of great thickness, and perhaps ten feet high. Here I had the satisfaction of seeing, that the Romans built stone walls in Wales exactly as we do in America, and as they did in Italy, by laying one stone upon another. You see, brother, one learns something by travelling. It is said, however, that they used boiling mortar for cement, which is undoubtedly one great reason of the durability of their works. The mortar, being thus in a sort of liquid state, insinuated itself into every vacancy between the stones, and formed a solid wall. In the walls of this fort are a number of round holes, about three inches in diameter, and passing quite through. These holes have puzzled the antiquaries very much, and given occasion to various con-jectures. If it might be permitted me to make a yankee guess, I would say, they were left there to look through, as occasion required, at the enemy or any thing else. From the eminences in the neighbourhood of Caernarvon, are seen the Isle of Anglesea, and a great variety of mountain peaks ranged along for a considerable distance. The view of Anglesea was quite inviting, and almost tempted me to cross the ferry. Other considerations, however, prevented me, and I passed into what is called, by the picturesque tourists, the wonders of Snowdonia. The mention of this mountain reminds me of an omission in not telling you, that from Conway I ascended to the summit of Penmanmuir, which rises fourteen hundred feet, almost perpendicular from the sea. It was the only place that at all realized the magnificent descriptions of the tourists, that I had yet seen in Wales. A walled road passes close around the edge of this tremendous ocean barrier; and the boundless prospect, as well as the sublime precipice, caused a glowing fluttering of the heart, partaking of elevation and apprehension combined. This place is all simplicity and sublimity. There are but three ingredients, all purely grand-the sky, the ocean, and the tremendous precipice. It is beyond doubt the noblest spot in all England, and makes an impression never to be forgotten. I contented myself with viewing Snowdoun from Beddgelert, from whence it makes rather a striking appearance, presenting a high peak, generally, however, encircled with vapours. Indeed, this is the region of humidity; and nine times in ten a traveller ascending the mountain gets wet in go ing up, and when he gains the summit, can see nothing but a Welsh mist, equal in obscurity to a genuine Welsh pedigree. I therefore turned my back on Snowdoun, who very modestly retired behind his veil of vapours, and did not appear again the whole day. This region, which is called Snowdonia, is composed of subsidiary hills, lying about the base of Snowdoun, and constituting properly the different steps in the ascent to that mountain, although there are valleys between. It is a wild VOL. I. M |