lived in the vicinity of demons. This learned man was familiar with all the secrets of nature, but one which he knew to be contained in a book that was written by no human agency, and carefully guarded by a giant, his mate, and their attendant dragons, whose abode was near the summit of Yr Eifl, in Carmarthenshire. The book, in possession of demons, seemed to furnish only sinister and vindictive suggestions; but would present to a Christian mind the most beneficent truths. The scholar was burning with desire, and feeling his inability to use arms, and his ignorance of warlike strategy, he confided the secret to Cilmin, who immediately mounted a steed and set out to obtain the book. After many hours of hard riding he came within sight of Tref-y-Caerw, afterwards called Moel-carn-yWrach, which is a part of Yr Eifl that rises to a cone crowned by a huge pile of stones. At this time the stones were in the lap of a giantess, who intended to heat them red hot at the demon's fire and cast them down upon the neighbouring fields with the intention of destroying the crops. Perceiving Cilmin, however, she suddenly started up to give the alarm and let fall the stones, an action which caused the spot to be called the Apronful of Stones. Then followed a terrific combat of the giant and dragons with the knight, but the latter, by the aid of his good sword with its cross handle, overcame his opponents and sped away with the book. Unfortunately, on his return journey, he accidentally wetted his foot in a stream against which he had been warned, and a demon hidden beneath the surface grasped his ankle. Cilmin wrested it away, but the entire limb became coal black, and the knight remained lame to the end of his days. He lived about A.D. 819, and is the ancestor of the North Wales tribe whose members generally adopt the name of Glynne.

On the significance of the word dragon is founded the ancient Welsh office of Pen-dragon. The Greek word ôpáкw and Latin "Draco," from which comes the Welsh "draig," both originally meant sharp-sighted; and the Pendragonship of necessity demanded the qualities of extraordinary intelligence and power of organisation. According to a very ancient custom of the country, when any common danger threatened it, the reguli, or sovereign chieftains, elected one of their number to lead the combined forces and undertake the entire management of the war. Originally fitness for the particular occasion ruled the choice, and the office ceased with the danger; but, as is the case with many noble institutions when they come to be regarded as ancient, the strict criterion was set afterwards aside by political influence, and Pendragon came to mean king or conqueror. It is sometimes said that the Pendragon was a standard-bearer, and there can be no doubt that the dragon ensign was carried near him, and sometimes in his own hand.

The title is also derived from the leader's custom of wearing a dragon on the crest of his helmet (dragon-head). These were, however, accidental to the office.

The first Pendragon about whom anything seems to be known was Emrys Wledig (or Ambrosius), who was supported by the chiefs of Cornwall and the Armoric Britons against the hated Vortigern, "Of repulsive lips." On the death of Emrys the Britons inhabiting the western coast elevated Uther (Danish, a club) to the throne, who thereupon added the title of Pendragon to the royal dignity. Some have attempted to identify Uther with King Arthur, but Geoffrey of Monmouth calls Arthur the son of Uther Pendragon. Owain Gwynedd, who, with his sons, took a fierce part in repelling the invasions of Henry II., was denominated the Dragon of Mona.

The red dragon is essentially Welsh. It was displayed on the banner of the famous Cadwalader in a field of green and white, the colour of the leek, which is the national emblem; and under this standard the Welsh were led to victory by Henry VII. at the battle of Bosworth. In honour of this event, according to Sir Henry Spelman," that monarch created the heraldic office of "Rouge Dragon," still existing in the Herald's College. It was intended that this office should always be filled by a Welshman, and the condition was adhered to in the time of Queen Elizabeth, when the celebrated Lewys Dwnn made his heraldic visitations to Wales, long before the existence of Herald's College.†

In the royal collection at Windsor is a picture by Holbien (Le champ de drap d'Or) where the red dragon appears over the head of the Tudor Sovereign, and also on every flag that marks the quarter of the British host. It may also be seen in Henry VII.'s Chapel in Westminster Abbey as the companion (right) supporter of the lion of England. The red dragon always occupied this place until supplanted by the unicorn of Scotland, which was introduced by James I. Although the Scottish emblem has some right to a place, it does not seem historically just that the Cambrian dragon should disappear altogether; for without it, or what it typified, the Stuarts could never have reigned over Wales as well as England.

In the Museum of Antiquities at Caerleon there is a very interesting dragon, cut in glass, which has a history of its own,

* Spelman, Gloss., v. "Herald," "Rouge Dragon a rulero Dracone Regium Anglorum clypeum sustinente ab Henrico VII. institutus."

+ These visitations were in part collected by Sir S. Meyrick and preserved by the Welsh MSS. Society.

Two dragons supported the feathers on the seal of Arthur, son of Henry VII., as Prince of Wales.

being a coat first borne by Llewellyn ap Ivor Tredegar. According to a pedigree of the Morgan family, and signed by the Clarencieux, King of Arms in the reign of Elizabeth, "This Llewellyn being in Spayne, did many deedes of armes for ye which he was honoured with this coate of armes."

Thus, a creature whose original character is that of ruthless antagonism to mankind, and whose reputed purpose is the annihilation of the species, has unwittingly served to bring out the latent heroism of many wonderful persons, and to immortalise them; to link together all the great families of the world by traditional ties, and to become a canon by which to estimate degrees of civilisation and progress in learning. "It is my belief," writes Mr. Dresser, "that the ornamental forms and the decorative system employed by a people are of greater value as ethnological tests than peculiarities of architecture, and that they afford a means of determining the relationship and the migration of races at least as satisfactory as do the words or construction of a language."*

Canton, Cardiff.

HARTNELL SPURRIER.

"Japan: Its architecture, art, and art manufactures."

GWEN.

Gwen, little Gwen, do I see you again?
Years have sped since we parted in pain,
Years of pleasure, methinks, to you
For I mark no change in your mien or hue,
Sweet and fair, as you were to me
In the golden summer of 'Eighty-three.

Gwen, little Gwen, when I met your glance
Suddenly now in the turn of the dance,
Back to my heart, with the surging blood,
The old thoughts swept in a tremulous flood,
But calm and cold was your look to me,
Not the look of my darling of 'Eighty-three !

Gwen, little Gwen, I am wondering now
When lovers in plenty before you bow,
When your soul is sated with flattery's sweets
And the pulse of pleasure too wildly beats,
Do you ever at all think kindly of me
And the golden summer of 'Eighty-three?

Gwen, little Gwen, if I not mistake,

There is one who would die for your sweet life's sake,
For look! in his eyes what a passionate gleam
As yon twain whirl round in the joyous stream!
Treat him kindlier, dear, than you treated me
In the golden summer of 'Eighty-three!

Gwen, little Gwen, we will say "Good-bye!"
Teacher and pupil were you and I :
You have forgotten, but I, poor fool,
Learnt my lesson too well in Love's gay school,
The lesson, you know, which you taught to me
In the golden summer of 'Eighty three!

Gwen, little Gwen, 'tis our last "Farewell!"
Oh, that the heart could its yearnings tell!
Oh, that life had the joys of yore,
And the world the roses it whilom bore,
And you were still, as you were to me
In the golden summer of 'Eighty-three !

Mount Bures, Essex.

J.H.D.

LITERATURE, ART, AND ARCHEOLOGY OF THE MONTH.

We have much pleasure in announcing the early appearance of a collection of poems from the pen of Miss Zitella E. Tomkins, long a contributor to the National Magazine. The volume is to be entitled "Sister Lucetta, and other Poems," and we trust the writer of the beautiful dirge "Irvonwy" will find many to appreciate her work. Intending subscribers should send their names in at once to the authoress, at the Leslie School of Art, Swansea.

The Building News of May 7 contained a full page drawing of Mr. W. G. John's statuette (slightly more than half sized), which gained the Royal Academy's first silver medal this year for the best figure in the round modelled from the life. The model posed for eighteen nights for two hours each, giving thirty-six hours for the finished group. Mr. John is a Cardiff gentleman whose artistic successes we have more than once already chronicled in these pages.

We regret to have to announce the death of Mr. John CeiriogHughes, of Caersws, the last of a triad of leading Welsh lyric poets, of which the other two were "Talhaiarn" and " and "Mynyddog." Mr. Hughes was born at Glyn-Ceiriog, in Denbighshire, on the 5th of September, 1832. In his youth he migrated to Manchester, where he obtained a situation as clerk under one of the great railway companies. Of persevering habits, he speedily obtained promotion, and after fulfilling the position of stationmaster at Llanidloes, he was appointed sole manager of the Van Railway in Montgomeryshire, a position he held up to the time of his death. Mr. Hughes leaves a widow and three daughters and a son.

With reference to the questions recently put in Parliament by Mr. Bowen Rowlands and Mr. T. Ellis as to the possibility of calendaring and printing ancient Welsh manuscripts, the Daily News says: "It may be interesting to point out that there are