equal in sublimity to Niagara. Likewise there were one or two lakes
which the guide-book greatly admired, but which to me, who remembered a
hundred sheets of blue water in New England, seemed nothing more than
sullen and dreary puddles, with bare banks, and wholly destitute of
beauty. I think they were nowhere more than a hundred yards across. But
the hills were certainly very good, and, though generally bare of trees,
their outlines thereby were rendered the stronger and more striking.

Many of the Welsh women, particularly the older ones, wear black beaver
hats, high-crowned, and almost precisely like men's. It makes them look
ugly and witchlike. Welsh is still the prevalent language, and the only
one spoken by a great many of the inhabitants. I have had Welsh people
in my office, on official business, with whom I could not communicate
except through an interpreter.

At some unutterable village we went into a little church, where we saw an
old stone image of a warrior, lying on his back, with his hands clasped.
It was the natural son (if I remember rightly) of David, Prince of Wales,
and was doubtless the better part of a thousand years old. There was
likewise a stone coffin of still greater age; some person of rank and
renown had mouldered to dust within it, but it was now open and empty.
Also, there were monumental brasses on the walls, engraved with portraits
of a gentleman and lady in the costumes of Elizabeth's time. Also, on
one of the pews, a brass record of some persons who slept in the vault
beneath; so that, every Sunday, the survivors and descendants kneel and
worship directly over their dead ancestors. In the churchyard, on a flat
tombstone, there was the representation of a harp. I supposed that it
must be the resting-place of a bard; but the inscription was in memory of
a merchant, and a skilful manufacturer of harps.