The succession of mountain ranges, precipitous and rugged,which extend from the shores of the Irish Sea to the boundariesof England, rising tier above tier, and culminating, at differentpoints, in the heights of Snowdon, Cader Idris, and Plinlimmon,gives to wild Wales that romantic beauty for which it is sojustly celebrated. That mountain region, too, guarded by thestrong arms and undaunted hearts of its heroic sons, formed animpassable bulwark against the advance of barbarian invaders, andremained for many years, while Saxon England was yet pagan, themain refuge of that Christian religion to which Britain owes itspresent greatness. Yet subsequently, on account of theinaccessible nature of the country, the inhabitants, separatedfrom their more enlightened fellow-subjects, remained for a longperiod almost as ignorant as their ancestors in the dark ages;and, till of late years, retained many of the grossersuperstitions and customs of those times.
A young traveller was climbing the side of one of thesemountain ranges facing the ocean, the silvery waters of whichcould be discerned in the distance, when he observed, far up, ahut. Solitary and cheerless it looked, scarcely to bedistinguished from the sombre colouring of the surrounding groundand the rocks and bushes amid which it stood. It was weather-wornand dilapidated, and appeared altogether unfit to be the abode ofa human being; indeed, a thin wreath of peat smoke ascending froman aperture in the roof alone made it likely that it wasinhabited. Its appearance offered no temptation to the youngstranger to turn aside from the path he was pursuing, and hecontinued his ascent till he gained a rocky pinnacle, from whencehe could watch the sun dipping into the ocean; and hence he couldlook down, on one side, over a confused mass of barren hills andfertile valleys, rocks, and precipices, heights crowned withtrees, peaks bare and rugged, and glens with sparkling torrentsdashing and foaming amid them; while on the other side, towardsthe ocean, he saw before him a wide and smiling valley, with astream meandering through it, and green meadows and groves oftrees, from among which a church spire reared its pointed summit;and near it a cheerful village of white-washed cottages and otherdwellings of more pretension; and there were sheep feeding, andcattle wending their way slowly homeward, all speaking of peaceand security.
“I could not have selected a more lovely spot to spendan evening in, had I been allowed a choice,” said the youngtraveller to himself, as he took his seat on the highest point hecould find. “As I cannot find my home, I could not bebetter off. I thought that I knew perfectly well the place myfamily have got to, but I am fairly puzzled with the Welsh names.I ought to have kept my brother’s letters in which he hadclearly written it down. Whether it is Twrog-y-Bwlch, orLlwyd-y-Cynfael, or Dwyryd-y-Ffetiog, I am sure I don’tknow. I hit the right post-town, of that I am nearly certain.There’s a village in the bottom. I might go down andinquire, but then I probably should not find my way back againover the mountain to the inn where I left my traps. I hope that Imay hit it off to-morrow. It’s very tantalising, andprovoking too, to be so near home, and yet not able to find it.It was very stupid to lose the letter. They do say midshipmen arevery careless chaps, and that I am no exception to the rule.Well, I have no reason to grumble. I haven’t enjoyed such asight as this for many a day, though it’s something likebeing mast-headed, except with the difference that I may go downwhen I like. I should enjoy it more if I had a messmate to talkto about it. Th