industry, the good of their family, and the reputation of their country. And nothing pleases a genuine Welshman more than to behold the manufactured article, the old British costume, extending even to the confines of the metropolis, adorning its antique market gardeners, its milkmen, its fish or flower girls.

Yet, spite of his calm demeanour and steady habits, it often struck me there was a sort of hurry in the actions of a true-born Welshman, a want of despatch and sequence, either as regarded his work or his ideas,—defects which I was induced to think only better education could remove. The gradual introduction of an improved system in the conduct of business and the affairs of life seemed equally desirable, and a native writer* has quaintly remarked that from over heat and anxiety of mind the Welshman allows himself to be diverted from one labour to another; hence every thing is incomplete-leaving the appearance of confusion and negligence, and he thus does nothing well.' Although this is more severe than justI might add rather sharp practice coming from a Doctor of Laws, and a countryman-it is not wholly unfounded in truth, as I occasionally found, to my cost, in my progress through the less visited portions of Wales.

Of course, this is not meant to apply to the genius of the country, but to accidental causes, which more favourable circumstances would at once remove. Among the educated classes, how numerous have been the distinguished men who have conferred lustre upon their country by their deeds in the field or upon the ocean, their high qualities in the court, the cabinet, and upon the bench. And not less than in every department of civil government are they favourably known by their distinction in science, and in the various walks of literature and the polite No equal extent of the empire, perhaps, has produced -whether for better or worse-more soldiers, sailors, and professional men. The battle of Maida, we are told, was a Cam

arts.

* John Jones, LL.D. History of Wales.

brian achievement; the most distinguished officers at Waterloo, where all fought so well and some fell, were the sons of Wales. The mitre at all times has graced the head of a Cambrian; in medicine, the names of the ancient Britons are always found on the rolls of the college; and in jurisprudence Wales has always furnished more than her proportion of talent. And to sum up all,-if we wish to form an abstract idea of the perpetuating powers of research and labour,-we have only to mention the name of Abraham Rees! There is no want of real energy, then, whatever we may say of method, in the Welsh character. Want of intercourse and mental cultivation are favourable neither to habits of thought nor to skill and practice; and add to these the modern political restraints on the bold, free energies, and upon the amusements of the people, without finding some adequate substitutes in the dissemination of knowledge, and the improved condition of the people, to take the place of the ancient sports and games.

CHAPTER X.

CAPEL CURIG TO BEDDGELERT, THE VALE AND LAKE OF GWYNANT, &c.

PLEASURE, that comes unlook'd-for, is thrice-welcome;

And, if it stir the heart, if aught be there,

That may hereafter in a thoughtful hour
Wake but a sigh, 't is treasured up among

The things most precious; and the day it came,

Is noted as a white day in our lives.

Rogers.

THE road from Capel Curig to the deep secluded scenery round Beddgelert presents a continued succession of sublime and picturesque views. Proceeding about four miles in the direction of Llanberis, I beheld to my right the wild, romantic pass called Bwlch y Gwyddyl, where the rocks, on both sides, rise to a stupendous height; and on my left appeared a wonderful variety of prospects, as I pursued my path through the Snowdon hills along the banks of several lakes.* Fresh vistas of hills, and vales, and waters, opened in all their loveliness or splendour upon the eye as I advanced. Here and there the broad black shadow of some rock threw its sombre hues upon the lake, while the flashing cataract or the glittering spar-veins, glowing in the sun, offered in other parts as marked a contrast and relief.

Soon I entered the charming and picturesque valley of Gwynant, where the once rich, abundant woods, the sparkling streams, and all the happiest interchange of the most varied mountain scenery, gave to it the distinctive title, with the surrounding region,

* The direct road,-now some time completed,-gives every advantage to the traveller, -offering the most favourable points of view; so much so as to leave nothing as regards scenic effect to be desired.

U

of the Forest of Snowdon. And well, at that moment, as I marked the thousand beauties spread around me in the mellow autumnal tints, the softened lights of the purple peaks, and the serene sky, did it seem to deserve the name, and to awaken those touching associations which it is difficult, amidst scenes long deserted and again revisited, not to indulge. Before me, in the distance to the left, lay the picturesque old bridge, and with its noisy weir and sweeping streams, appeared to me, at that moment, no unapt emblem of the vain turmoil, the swift passing shadows of mortal emptiness and pride.

I felt a pleasing emotion, too, in contemplating the ruins of that little chapel, which had been consecrated by benevolence; for it was raised by the pious attachment of one who, after long absence, returned to repose beneath his native shades. In early life, John Williams left his native vales to try his fortune in the great metropolis. Having established himself in a small way as a goldsmith, he at length, by care and industry, accumulated a tolerably handsome fortune. This he had no sooner accomplished than he resolved to return, and promote the welfare of his countrymen among the hills and streams of his boyhood.

It was here that the union of stream, and lake, and fall, so peculiar a feature of the Caernarvon hills, most struck my fancy, giving that nameless charm to a solitary ramble which more than compensates for the loss of companionship, or the most arduous pedestrian toil. The fresh breath of morning fanned my brow-some new beauty continually broke upon the eye-the first red leaves blown across my path, or whirling in eddies down the currents, told the evening of the year was nigh; and the blue mists on the distant hills,—the beautifully variegated foliage of the trees,—the fragrant dew yet glittering on herb and flower, with the early matin song of birds,—the winds whistling through the mountain-hollows, and the far-off sound of the cataract,-all combined to inspire a freshness and elasticity of feeling which only the morning traveller can intensely enjoy.