under various names; and it is to them that Gray alludes, in his poem of the "Bard," when he says,

"On dreary Arvon's shore they lie,
Smeared with gore and ghastly pale;"

and the British bards make frequent allusion to them in their compositions under other names. It was near the site of the present Britannia Bridge that a Roman army crossed the straits under Suetonius Paulinius, about the sixtieth year of the Christian era, when he attacked, and nearly destroyed the British Druids in Anglesea. The inhabitants of the country are almost as ancient in appearance as their native hills, and their absurd adherence to the customs and language of their ancestors creates a smile on the countenance of the stranger, if nothing more. Here is a race of people occupying a sterile, barren, mountainous tract of country within two hundred miles of London, the capital of the civilized world, and they appear to be blindly determined to oppose progress, and stupidly continue in the ways of their forefathers. Their language is as odd as their costume, and they have such a hearty national hatred of their Saxon neighbors that they will not even speak English, and live as completely isolated from the inhabitants of the other sections of the island as if they were dwellers in the remote recesses of the valleys of Thibet. In my rambles, I met with many who could not speak a single word of English, and those who did were generally illiterate and almost ill-mannered. The peasant women wear "shocking bad hats" of the steeple or sugar-loaf pattern, and with half a dozen ruffles at each side of the face, they look the most perfect frights in the world in human shape. The men do not appear to have a high regard for female character, and many of the women are no better than domestic slaves, and it is a frequent occurrence to see old and young females wearing coarse, heavy shoes, the soles of which are filled with large nails, and dressed otherwise in the costume of the country, wheeling barrows along the highway, and even driving sheep and cattle. The figure the women cut when mounted on a shuffling nag, and dressed in the Welsh style, with a broad-brimmed black fur or silk hat on the top of the head, is ridiculous in the extreme, and no stranger comes out of the country after seeing such pictures with a partiality for the native costume. Not only are the language and style of dress considered sacred and preserved as national jewels, but they celebrate the "Eistoddfod" (pronounced Estethvod) or "Sittings of the Bards," every three years, at some particular place in the principality, and award premiums to those who produce, at such triennial exhibitions, the best articles of domestic comfort and personal wear, such as cloths, stockings, hats, etc., manufactured entirely from Welsh materials; and confer honors and medals upon those poets who produce the two best poems in the Welsh language upon purely national subjects. Their dwellings are indifferent, and not much calculated for comfort; their habits neither pleasant nor agreeable; and, as they have no partiality for things English, they entertain a holy hatred for the Established or Episcopal Church, and seldom go within its walls. Some of them nurture the idea that Wales will, at some future day, regain her ancient independence, and shut their eyes to every species of rational advancement, being content to live as their fathers lived, and die in the faith and opinions of their ancestors. Such are some of the characteristics of the Welsh people at the present day-a people inhabiting a land, the extent of which is not so great as many of the counties in the American States, and about as productive as the iron sides of the Alleghanies of Western Virginia. The railways in the north and south have contributed somewhat towards bringing the people more in contact with the world from which they are now estranged; but as they traverse only the remote boundaries of the principality, and do not penetrate to the interior, there is but little prospect at present of the Welsh following in the progressive spirit of the age, and every reason to believe that they will continue for a century to come, as they now are, full a hundred years behind the times. I speak of the people at large, the peasantry and masses; and as they are the nation, and blindly adhere to old customs and usages, there is but little hope for their present regeneration. That some individuals among them possess well cultivated minds and entertain liberal sentiments, cannot be denied, but they are few. If mankind are to be taught advancement by the Welsh people, they will have to wait a long while, and tyranny will have grown cunning, and made rapid advances at crushing the spirit of freedom, with his iron and villanous power, ere they will enter the lists in favor of human rights and human progress.

I visited other sections of the northern part of the principality, besides those mentioned, and walked from Bangor to Caernarvon along the shores of the "dreary Arvon," for the purpose of viewing the scenery of the famous Straits and rugged aspect of the adjacent country. Tameness is certainly no feature of the landscape, and the clouds, which float over the hills and envelop the mountain tops, are not sparing to the land of their crystal contents, as I had abundant proof during my walk. Caernarvon is a mean-looking place on the eastern shores of the Straits at a point where they expand to the distance of two miles, and is renowned for its castle, built by Edward the First; the walls and towers of which are in good preservation, considering the many years they have been standing. The room in which Edward the Second was born is shown to visitors, and the guide, like most exhibiters of old castles, points out numerous other objects about the place unknown to history, and only known to himself.. From Caernarvon I originally intended to proceed inland to Llanberis, and thence on to Llangollen; but the weather was wet, expenses heavy, and the country losing its robes of green. The driver of a "Fly," a species of jaunting car, had the excessive modesty to ask me fourteen shillings, or nearly three dollars and fifty cents, to take me eight miles, and when I declined his generous offer, and told him I would sooner walk the distance than pay so exorbitant a sum, he politely hinted that I would run a risk of robbery, if I attempted it. I told him I had my doubts about that, but none as to his robbing me, if I should be fool enough to pay him the sum he demanded for the service required. Seeing no chance of getting on immediately with comfort, I availed myself of a conveyance back to Bangor, and returned from thence to the western part of England, very well satisfied with the north of Wales.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

A WEDDING-PARTY-SHREWSBURY-MARKET-DAY-BATTLEFIELD CHURCH.

A CONSTANT change of residence is sure to bring with it a succession of scenery and incidents, and whether walking, or travelling in more easy and rapid way, the tourist always finds something to attract his attention, and afford him instruction or amusement. On my route to Shrewsbury by rail, I passed through a romantic and beautiful part of country, and had a distant glimpse of the far-famed Vale of Llangollen, and the interesting and well-cultivated lands around Raubon, as, also, a good view of the town of Wrexham and its noble old church, one of the largest and most elaborately finished of the many Gothic shrines of England. When we arrived at the station, it was decorated with wreaths of flowers, chaplets of evergreens, and waving flags; while along the road and on the platforms were groups of village maidens and rustic swains, arrayed in their best, some of the men looking as prim as pikestaves, and taking delight in flourishing immense nosegays in the button-hole of the left breast of the coat. The girls looked rosy and cheerful, and each wore a smile of bashful modesty on her countenance as if expecting an agreeable event soon to transpire, of which they chatted and jested as young females will when one more favored than themselves is about to be led to the altar of Hymen. The bells of the church rang wildly and cheerily out, and kept up a glorious sound of joy with their iron tongues, which sounded to my ear like the harmonious commingling of the voices of a host of happy girls, whose hearts are all gladness, and whose souls are all peace.

"What now?" was the inquiry of more than one of my fellowpassengers. "What is all this about?"

"Do you not know?" interrogated a lady at my side.

"Not I, indeed."

"Then you are unusually stupid, if you cannot see that this is a wedding-party waiting to escort the happy couple to the church."

I acknowledged my want of discernment, and received a look of scorn from the fair one, who appeared to consider me a hopeless bachelor, and singularly deficient in experience respecting weddings; and when told that this was the only one of the kind I had ever noticed, she thought it quite time for me to learn something of the ceremony, and advised me to alight and witness the one about to take place.

"Your education must have been sadly neglected," said she; "or, what I suspect to be nearer the truth, you are no great admirer of the ladies."

I told her she did me injustice, and assured her that I was half inclined to fall in love with herself, but was doubtful how my suit would be received.

"O, sir, you need not have any misgivings as to that, as I am married already; and if I were not, it would make no difference, for you never would be my choice."

I looked from the window at the rustic maidens until the train started, and not inside again until the carriage arrived at Shrewsbury.

The famous county town of Salopshire (or, as it is commonly called, Shropshire) is one of the few places rarely visited by strangers, because of its remoteness from the regular line of travel, and not being connected with any of the more southern towns by rail. The Severn flows around three parts of the town, and the city may be said to occupy a plot of ground in shape like the centre of the Roman capital letter C, the river nearly encircling it. It is on two hills, and the streets are generally narrow and steep, with side-walks of pebbles like those of the Welsh towns. It contains but few buildings worthy of note, the churches being both old and ungainly, and the castle much shattered. Many of the dwellings are built with the gable to the street, and as most of them have bay windows, there is an air of antiquity about the town quite pleasing.

Two fine bridges span the Severn, one leading toward Wales,