stranger are always an honour to the nation in which they exist, particularly where it leads to a risk of life for the purpose of saving life. But what shall we say of those monsters, who, instead of succouring, robbed and ill-treated the helpless and perishing. What are we to think of wretches so dastardly as those who add cruelty and cowardice to avarice, and plunder only those whom the ocean has robbed of their strength? Do not these facts call for legislative interference? Could not some mode be devised for enforcing the operation of existing laws? This is but one instance of many! The Hirlas Horn. The committee for managing the Eisteddvod, which was held at Denbigh last September, voted Dr. Jones, the honorary secretary, a piece of plate, for his valuable services on that occasion. Mr. Ellis, of John street, Oxford street, Medallist to the Royal Cambrian Institution, was requested to execute, after his own design, a drinking goblet of an ancient form. Mr. Ellis thought of the Hirlas Horn, and he has completed one of the most beautiful, as it is the most unique, pieces of workmanship we ever beheld. It is an elegantly carved horn, about eighteen inches long, brilliantly polished, and richly mounted, the cover highly ornamented with chased oak leaves, and the tip adorned with an acorn; the horn resting on luxuriant branches of an oaken tree, exquisitely finished in chased silver. Around the cover is engraved the following inscription: "Presented by the Cymrodorion in Gwynedd, to Richard Phillips Jones, M.D. for his unwearied exertions in promoting the Royal Eisteddvod held at Denbigh, 1828." The horn (the inside of which is lined with silver,) will contain about three half-pints; and we doubt not that it will be often passed around, filled with cwrw da, in remembrance of the interesting event which it is intended to commemorate. 66 The Hirlas was, in days of yore, a most necessary appendage. About 1160, Owain Cyveiliog, one of the most distinguished princes of Powis flourished; he was a great warrior and an eminent poet; several specimens of his writings are given in the Archaiology of Wales." His poem called the Hirlas Horn (the long blue horn), is a masterpiece. It used to be the custom of the prince, when he had gained a battle, to call for the horn, filled with metheglin, and drink the contents at one draught, then sound it to show that there was no deception; each of his officers followed his example. Mrs. Hemans has given a beautiful song in Parry's second volume of Welsh Melodies, on the subject, concluding thus "Fill higher the Hirlas! forgetting not those Who shared its bright draught in the days which are fled! And the heart of the hero shall burn at the sound; Welsh Judicature. Circulars have been issued by the clerk of the peace for the county of Anglesey, by order of the Lord Lieutenant, to each of the magistrates, to know the opinion of the country, as to the state of the Welsh Judicature. The object of these letters is, to have the sense of the magistrates and other intelligent persons resident in Wales, as to the expediency of retaining our judicature. A meeting was accordingly held at Llangevni, on Tuesday, the 2d ult. to make a specific reply to the several queries proposed in the circular. As several questions related to the practice of the Welsh courts, the greater number present, of course, not being professional gentlemen, were unable to know any thing of the usages and practice of the court. The chair was taken by John Williams, esq. chairman of the quarter sessions. He declared that the introduction of English Judges, and the including Wales in the circuits of fourteen Judges of Wales, was a measure disadvantageous to Wales, inasmuch as all actions tried in Wales are comparatively attended with small expense. The learned gentleman concluded by moving the adoption of replies to that intent. "The principal objections to our judicature arise from having the same Judges continually on one circuit; that their appointment proceeds from political interest. The proposed remedy is, that the circuits should be alternately visited by all the Welsh Judges, or, if possible, that the introduction of English Judges should be adopted, provided our Judicature be not changed." Gwyneddigion Society, in London. The fifty-eighth anniversary dinner of this society took place on Tuesday, Dec. 9, at the Woolpack tavern, Cornhill, Mr. Parry in the chair, and Mr. Williams, vice-president. When the cloth was removed, "Non Nobis" was sung, which was followed by the toast of "Church and King," or rather "The King and Church," y Brenhin ar Eglwys, as given agreeably Snowdon. to the idiom of the Welsh language, when our national anthem was sung by the whole company standing, with the following additional stanza, which was loudly applauded: May heav'n protect the throne, And make the cause its own From danger e'er defend Old Cambria's prince and friend, After "The Principality of Wales" was given, the chairman sung the national song ofŎ let the kind minstrel," accompanied by his son on the harp, who performed some brilliant variations in the melody, which elicited universal plaudits, and afterwards sang "St. David's day," and "The worth of true friendship," in a manner that delighted the company. Mr. Collyer sang several ballads very sweetly; and Gattie gave some of Dibdin's exquisite songs in excellent style. The chairman, in proposing the health of "The Duke of Wellington," stated that his grace was a descendant of TUDOR TREVOR, and called upon his countrymen to honour the toast with three Ancient British cheers, which was heartily complied with. The same compliment was paid to Lord Kenyon. In introducing the health of Sir W. W. Wynn, and the Royal Cambrian Institution, the president observed that it was the intention of the society to give a grand Cambrian concert early in May next, for the benefit of the Welsh charity school, on which occasion some of the most eminent performers of the day would be engaged, also that Richard Roberts, the blind minstrel of Carnarvon, who gained the gold harp at the Denbigh Eisteddvod, would be sent for, to perform the identical air, with variations, "Sweet Richard," which he played on that interesting occasion; and that he would be accompanied by some Pennillon singers from Wales. It was announced that a portrait of the late Owen Jones Myvyr, founder of the Gwyneddigion, would be forthwith published by the society, and that their secretary was preparing for the press an historical account of the institution. Prichard, harper to the society, per. formed several national airs, and Pennillion singing was kept up with great spirit, relieved by songs, duets, glees, &c. the evening's entertainment closed with "Ar hyd y nos.' Mr. Roberts, of Holyhead, has commenced a tour in Wales, for the purpose of delivering Lectures on Astronomy in the Welsh language. It is the first attempt of the kind ever made, and we sincerely hope that it will be successful. J. and C. Adlard, Printers, Bartholomew Close. LLANDRIN DOD WELLS! How little did I think, when, for the first and last time, I drank the complete antithesis of "delicious poison" from those unsavoury springs, that I should ever make them the subject of an essay, and an essay too in a Welsh Magazine. And, at this distance of time, (for it is now six years ago,) it requires no small effort to recall the shadowy recollections of a blithesome period; no small portion of moral courage to make certain confessions to the public, which I am not obliged to make unless I choose it. Truth, however, against the world. Reader, though I have just quoted the most sacred adage of the bardic race, yet I am-pshaw, this is folly! Hear then the truth! Reader, I am not a Welshman! Thou hast my secret. But why the necessity of this exposure? says the compassionate reader, feeling for my situation; why not keep the thing to yourself? Aye, there's the rub. If I had not told it myself, I should have been found out before I had written a page. I could no more pass myself off for a genuine Cymro than the gross leg of a Leicestershire ram could palm itself off for a thyme-fed trotter of the Denbighshire hills. It was necessary that I should be candid. Had I boldly declared myself a true Cambrian, it would have hurt my conscience to be found out. But the public must now be informed who I really am, for I have sundry pleasing and pathetic visions of future articles floating about my organ of imagination, which will lose half their charm unless their author be known, and kept in mind at the time of reading them. Reader, I am not very young, though somewhat frolicsome I walk a great deal, because I like it, and because I grow fat I am what Englishers call a jolly-looking gentleman, NO. II. R turned thirty, with red cheeks, blue eyes, light hair, hardly any whiskers worth looking at, not tall but plump, and should look all the better if it were possible to roll me out. My reason for thus describing myself is not quite disinterested: to gratify the curiosity of the courteous reader, (his epithet time out of mind,) may be a motive of weight; but the principal and operating cause is, that a gentleman answering the above description may be treated with more than ordinary attention in his never-failing summer peripateticism in the Principality. Well, but Llandrindod? Ay, true, I was wandering. Then be it known, that, in the summer of one thousand eight hundred and never mind dates, they tell tales, I began to grow fat. I left off malt and suppers, and took to blue pill and walking. For this purpose I set out upon a Welsh tour. I was then neither more nor less than a freshman at college, called myself a man, talked of the quad, lecture room, boat races, town and gown, and believed myself licensed and qualified to flirt with every pretty girl who would listen to trash. Thus informed, I came to Llandrindod. The Pump House was as full as it could hold. The other (for there were but two in the place, whatever there may be now,) was, if I remember right, called the Rock House. That I understood was not so genteel, though I should opine more commodious. However, genteel I would be, so went to the first house, and they made shift, after much teazing, to erect me a bed in a sort of hayloft, clean enough, but little conducive to sleep, on account of the grinding and snorting and whinnying of the steeds below, of which there was a goodly crew. However, I outlived three winkless nights there, and was then transferred to the house, and lodged in a fayre chamber, ycleped "the Dungeon." What a murky den it was! Mercy, how young I must have been to turn into hammock there! Nathless, it was heaven to my hinnible abode; and soon after, on the departure of a fat widow of Newtown, I took possession of a snug whitewashed closet, called "the Salt Box ;" and there I ended my wanderings, and was at rest. It was the custom of the place that the last comer, if a gentleman, should place himself at the bottom of the table, and carve for the rest if a lady, she in like manner dispensed the nectar of the teapot. I was an abominable carver; and the fates would have it that I should sit in that same carving station nearly a week: no kind Hercules arrived to ease a most unwilling atlas of his weight of duty. Ill fared the joint of sheep that was placed before me; worse fared the wights who had to wait for dinner at my hand; worst of all fared the carver himself, who never ate a comfortable meal as long as he held that unenvied preeminence. With face *The Church of the Trinity. |