her royal infant to the assembled chieftains. "After the performance of this great mockery," says a Welsh writer, "the gate was restored to its fastenings in the wall."

Conway Castle is another object of interest, and which I visited on one of my trips. This was erected in 1284 by Edward I., as a security against Welsh insurrection. And it may be said that the large number of castles in a small country like Wales, the remains of which are still to be seen, and which do not probably represent all that were in existence in the early days, certainly show that the Welsh were a very brave and liberty-loving reople, stubborn to the last degree in the defence of their independence; no ordinary warriors would have required such formidable

cipitous rock, one side bounded by the river, a second by the creek filled at every side, and the remaining two facing the town. When the castle came into the possession of the Earl of Conway, in 1665, he barbarously took away all the timber, iron, lead and other movable materials to Ireland for the repair of his property.

One of the most enjoyable excursions from Liverpool to North Wales can be made in the. North Wales Steamship Company's superb greyhound, "The Saint Tudno," commanded by that sturdy Welshman, Captain Lewis. "The Saint Tudno" is a marvel of beauty and speed, and Captain Lewis is an ideal commander. A trip with him to Llandudno will be one long to be remembered as "a thing of beauty

A

and a joy forever." No true Welshman should fail to travel by this route. look at Captain Lewis's honest face is a certain guaranty of a delightful trip and security against seasickness.

There are some names that touch the heart of every true Welshman "like the grand old music of our native land." Such a name is "Harlech." This place, though once of great importance (being the capital of the county) is now only a straggling village; but its identity will be preserved so long as Harlech Castle stands. That ancient ruin will recall, to the very day that the mutations of time and the ravages of the elements complete its destruction, the dauntless valor and dogged persistency of our race, whilst Welsh national airs such as "The March of the Men of Harlech" will ever keep alive the martial spirit and the love of liberty that inspired Llewellyn and Owen Glendower. In a book published in London in 1833 appeared the following description of Harlech Castle, which applies equally well to that historic pile to-day:

"The great attraction of Harlech is the magnificent castle-formerly remarkable for its strength, now only celebrated for its beauty-once the terror, but now the pride of the scene. It stands on the summit of a bold perpendicular rock, projecting from a range of hills which stretches along the coast, and frowning over an extensive marsh, which is scarcely higher than the level of the sea that skirts it. On the side next the sea it must originally have been utterly inacessible, the castle walls being scarce distinguishable from the rock on which they rest, but rather resembling a continued surface of dark gray masonry. The other sides were protected by a fosse of great breadth and depth, cut in the solid rock. The only entrance was beneath a barbacan, within which a drawbridge fell across the fosse, and opened within a ballium, which enveloped the citadel. The plan resembles a square, each angle of which is strengthened by a large circular

tower, the entrance being also protected by two noble flankers. On the entrance side of the inner court are the chief apartments; and a beautiful elevation, of three stories in height, with cut-stone architraves to each window, the whole terminated by graceful circular pavilions, rising far above the ballium, and commanding one of the grandest imaginable prospects, is still entire. It resembles in style and position the council hall in the castle of Beaumaris. The banqueting hall is on the opposite side, and its windows look from a dizzy height down upon the green waters of the sea. On the right of the court may be traced the ruins of a small chapel, the pointed window of which is still entire.

'No more the banners o'er the ramparts

wave,

Or lead their chieftains onward to the

fight, Where die the vanquish'd, or exult the brave,

For victory, basking in its worship'd

light.

The Cambrian chiefs of Rheinog Fawr Are mingled in the dust with com

mon clay.'

"No view in the northern 'shires is superior in grandeur to the prospect from the light turrets of Harlech Castle. The Marsh and Traeth are seen spread out at a frightful depth, and from the margin of their wide level, stupendous rocks and cliffs suddenly start up. tufted and embossed with wood. A great mass of air seems to float in the void behind this scene, separating a world of mountains, the grandeur of whose feature the pencil only can express. A stupendous vista of broken hills forms a noble perspective, crossed by ranges that open to farther glimpses-summit succeeds to summit in endless train, leading the fancy into regions of solitary obscurity.

"Bronwen, the fair-necked sister to Bren ap Lyr, Duke of Cornwall, and afterwards King of England, had a castle on this rock called 'Twr y Bronwen.' She flourished in the third century, and

Collwyn. Upon the ruins of the British castle King Edward the First raised the beautiful and impregnable fortress of Harlech (the fair rock), and the union of the old and new masonry is still distinguishable in the walls. Owen Glendower seized this fortress in the year 1404, but resigned it shortly after upon the approach of Henry's army. Here the wretched Margaret of Anjou took refuge after the defeat of her friends at Northampton, but being pursued and discovered, she fled from Harlech also, leaving her jewels and baggage behind, which were afterwards seized by the Lord Stanley. Dafydd ap Ivan ap Einion, an adherent of the house of Lancaster held out, in Harlech Castle, for nine years after the accession of Edward the Fourth to the throne of England. His determined obstinacy, a quality for which his countrymen have always been remarkable in war, compelled the king to send a pow

France against its besiegers so long that all the old women in Wales talked of me; tell your commander that I intend to defend this Welsh castle now until all the old women in France shall hear of it.' Sir Richard Herbert, who had the immediate conduct of the siege, finding the impregnable nature of the castle, and stubborn quality of its governor, accepted the surrender upon conditions honorable to Dafydd, guaranteeing to him and to his followers, fifty in number, their lives and estates. Being all persons of consideration, they were at first committed to the Tower, the King designing to put them all to death, notwithstanding the conditions of the surrender. Against Edward's cruel and dishonest conduct Sir Richard remonstrated, urging that the Welsh hero might have held the castle longer for anything the King's army could have done to expel him; but the King still continuing in his base resolve, 'Then,

Apropos to the subject we considered a month ago as well as to the prevailing condition of things among us just now, is the answer of a certain wag to the question-What is the greatest war story you have ever read? Answer: My own diary since I was married! And, it might be added with a great deal of plausibility that the saleslady who answered a certain customer when he asked-Have you a copy of the "Fifteen Decisive Battles?" "No, but we have a 'History of a Married Man,' was closely related to the same class, if not the divorced wife of the above cruel cynic.

Flippant, pointed and full of humor, as the above answers may appear, they are nevertheless, to the thoughtful, extremely suggestive of a lamentable condition of society with its sad phase along the line of progressive domestic felicity.

In addition to what we then stated as causes to the said status of things, it may be added that lack of thought and of self-management, resulting in precipitancy of action are among the most prevalent.

*

Not long ago, in one of the courts of our Commonwealth, an appeal for freedom from the marriage vows was made by a woman furious over wrongs that were partly real and partly imaginary. After the evidence, pro and con, had been listened to, the judge, who by all means should wear the nom de plume Daniel II., or Solomon III., as a mark of merited distinction from the rank and file of judges, exercised a prerogative, which was his under the law, a prerogative never used before as far as

we have heard or seen, and granted to the parties in the suit, a separation for the period of six months, that they might have time to think it over. Oh! what a judgment, what a boon, what a valuable decision-time to think it over! Do we not all of us, more or less, act upon the spur of the moment and commit ourselves as a consequent unreservedly into the unrelenting clutches of worry and regret? Time and again have we seen people acting without taking time to think it over, and afterwards spending the balance of their lives repenting the foolish rashness.

Those who are acquainted with the writer, will readily admit that his regard for the gentler sex is such that he will err on the side of indulgence rather than otherwise, yet, from personal observation, he must state what he believes to be true, and that is; women somehow are peculiarly the victims of their impulses, and so much so, that betimes one would wish the mentioned judge or some omnipotent court would institute an injunction or something to restrain them from taking any irrevocable step until after they have thought it over for a period which would guarantee no rash undertaking.