removed, boundaries invaded, and the markets in consequence abound with merchandise, the courts of justice with law suits, and the senate with complaints. Concerning such things we read in Isaiah, "Woe unto them that join house to house, that lay field to field, till there be no place, that they be placed alone in the midst of the earth."

If, therefore, the prophet inveighs so much against those who proceed to the boundaries, what would he say to those who go far beyond them? From these and other causes, the true colour of religion was so converted into the dye of falsehood, that manners internally black assumed a fair exterior,

"Reverse of white is now what once was white enough."

So that the scripture seems to be fulfilled concerning these men,-" Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ravenous wolves." But I am inclined to think this avidity does not proceed from any bad intention. For the monks of this order, although themselves most most abstemious, incessantly exercise, more than any others, the acts of charity and beneficence towards the poor and strangers; and because they do not live as others upon fixed incomes, but depend only on their labour and forethought for subsistence, they are anxious to obtain lands, farms, and pastures which may enable them may enable them to perform these acts of hospitality. However, to repress and remove from this sacred order the detestable stigma of ambition, I wish they would sometimes call to mind what is written in Ecclesiasticus,-"Whoso bringeth an offering of the goods of the poor, doth as one that killeth the son before his father's eyes;" and also the sentiment of Gregory,-"A good use does not justify things badly acquired;" and also that of Ambrose,-"He who wrongfully receives, that he may well dispense, is rather burthened than assisted." Such men seem to say with the Apostle,

Let us do evil that good may come." For it is written," Mercy ought to be of such a nature as may be received, not rejected, which may purge away sins, not make a

says,

man guilty before the Lord, arising from your own just labours, not those of other men." Hear what Solomon "Honour the Lord from your just labours." What shall they say who have seized upon other men's possessions, and exercised charity? "O Lord! in thy name we have done charitable deeds, we have fed the poor, clothed the naked, and hospitably received the stranger;" to whom the Lord will answer, "Ye speak of what ye have given away, but speak not of the rapine ye have committed; ye relate concerning those ye have fed, and remember not those ye have killed."

I have judged it proper to insert in this place an instance of an answer which Richard, king of the English, made to Fulke, a good and holy man, by whom God in these our days has wrought many signs in the kingdom of France. This man had, among other things, said to the king,-"You have three daughters, namely, Pride, Luxury, and Avarice; and as long as they shall remain with you, you can never expect to be in favour with God." To which the king, after a short pause, replied, "I have already given away those daughters in marriage, Pride to the Templars, Luxury to the Black Monks, and Avarice to the White."

It is a remarkable circumstance, or rather a miracle, concerning Llanthoni, that, although it is on every side surrounded by lofty mountains, not stony or rocky, but of a soft nature, and covered. with grass, Parian stones are frequently found there, and are called free-stones, from the facility with which they admit of being cut and polished; and with these the church is beautifully built. It is also wonderful that when, after a diligent search, all the stones have been removed from the mountains, and no more can be found, upon another search, a few days afterwards, they reappear in greater quantities to those who seek them.

With respect to the two Orders, the Cluniac and the Cistercian, this may be relied upon; although the latter are possessed of fine buildings, with ample revenues and estates, they will soon be reduced to poverty and destruction. To the former, on the contrary, you would

allot a barren desert and a solitary wood; yet in a few years you will find them in possession of sumptuous churches and houses, and encircled with an extensive property. The difference of manners, as it appears to me, causes this contrast. For as without meaning offence to either party, I shall speak the truth, the one feels the benefits of sobriety, parsimony, and prudence, whilst the other suffers from the bad effects of gluttony and intemperance; the one, like bees, collect their stores into a heap, and unanimously agree in the disposal of one well-regulated purse; the others pillage and divert to improper uses the largesses which have been collected by divine assistance, and by the bounties of the faithful, and whilst each individual consults solely his own interest, the welfare of the community suffers; since, as Sallust observes," Small things increase by concord, and the greatest are wasted by discord." Besides, sooner than lessen the number of one of the thirteen or fourteen dishes which they claim by right of custom, or even in a time of scarcity or famine recede in the smallest degree from their accustomed good fare, they would suffer the richest lands and the best buildings of the monastery to become a prey to usury, and the numerous poor to perish before their gates.

The first of these Orders, at a time when there was a deficiency in grain, with a

laudable charity not only gave away their flocks and herds, but resigned to the poor one of the two dishes with which they were always contented. But in these our days, in order to remove this stain, it is ordained by the Cistercians,-"That in future neither farms nor pastures shall be purchased; and that they shall be satisfied with those alone which have been freely and unconditionally bestowed upon them." This Order, therefore, being satisfied more than any other with humble mediocrity, and, if not wholly, yet in a great degree checking their ambition; and though placed in a worldly situation, yet avoiding, as much as possible, its contagion; neither notorious for gluttony or drunkenness, for luxury or lust; is fearful and ashamed of incurring public scandal, as will be more fully explained in the book we mean, by the grace of God, to write concerning the ecclesiastical Orders.

In these temperate regions I have obtained, according to the usual expression, a place of dignity, but no great omen of future pomp or riches; and possessing a small residence near the castle of Brycheiniog, well adapted to literary pursuits, and to the contemplation of eternity, I envy not the riches of Croesus; happy and contented with that mediocrity which I prize far beyond all the perishable and transitory things of this world. But let us return to our subject.

[creeping,

All nature now is still and peaceful sleeping
And why art thou awake?

The busy din of earth will soon be o'er,
Rest thee, O rest, upon thy sandy shore..

Peace, restless sea; even now my heart's best
Thou bearest on thy breast,

[treasure

On thee he spends a life which knows no leisure
A scanty wage to wrest;

Be kind, O sea, whose limits boundless are
And rest, O rest, upon thy sandy bar.

To sheltered haven bring my husband's bark Ere yet the shadows fall and night grows dark.

IT would be very interesting work to trace the history of the Penrhyn Slate Quarries during the last 150 years, and to consider the improvements introduced, from time to time, in the methods of working, and in the relations between master and man. Nor would it be unprofitable, from many points of view, to inquire into the causes and the results of the great strike of 1864, and of the still more important strike of 1874, with its vast consequences to the industrial, social, political, and religious life of the quarryman. All this, however, I must pass by, and confine my remarks to the quarryman himself and his work.

Before we can form an approximately correct idea of what the quarryman's work is, we must watch him working in what, in technical terms, are called y twll and y lan,-terms which we shall presently explain.

The quarry itself is a vast excavation made into the very heart of the mountain, in which at present about 3,000 men are working. The excavation is made in three directions, (1) towards the south, this side being called the left side; (2) towards the west, this side being called the right, and meeting the other at right angles; (3) down towards the heart of the earth. We therefore see before us in all directions nothing but bare rocks, presenting, nevertheless, "to the view a variety of picturesque and magnificent scenery, richly deserving the inspection of the artist. The number of different kinds of rock and their collocations destroy monotony. There is the hard (or lower) blue, the hard red with its bright colour, the soft (or old) blue, the striped red, the soft grey bastard and the hard grey bastard, resounding like an anvil under the workman's tools, the silky vein of ruddy hue, and the green rock, which is the highest formation of the slate rocks, a kind of gritty formation called red granite, and the hard granite separating the soft from the the soft from the bastard rocks; and particularly noticeable is the "gwenithfaen du," running from the

top of the mountain almost to the lowest parts of the quarry, about two or three yards wide, being a dyke of burnt ashes, and being, like the other dykes, of green stone that shines brilliantly with abundance of quartz of the greatest transparency and most curious forms, the result of volcanic eruptions, filling up cracks caused by contraction in the different formations.

From the top of the quarry to the bottom there would be a perpendicular drop of about 935 feet. drop of about 935 feet. It is not, however, as one drop that we find it. One Mr. Greenfield, appointed manager of the quarry about the year 1799, seeing the blocks loosened from the rock breaking into pieces, and thus causing much loss, began to work the rock into galleries averaging 55 feet deep and 37 feet broad. The quarry has thus the appearance of a flight of stairs on a very large scale. Of these galleries there are at present about 34, each called by a particular name, such as Ponc Twrch, Gwaelod Uchaf, Workhouse, Jolly Fawr, &c. The number of workmen placed on each of these galleries corresponds to its length, the nature of the rock, and other matters; and by a man working yn y twll is meant a man working on an apportioned part of the rock in one of these galleries.

The term quarryman is a general name for more than one class of workmen; and nothing can better help us to form a fair idea of the full life of each day in a quarry than explaining the part of the work done by each class.

First, then, we name the bad-rock-men. Of these, three partners, as a rule, form what is called a crew. They work in bad rock, that is, rock from which no slates can be worked. They take what is called a bargain, i.e., a particular part of the rock, averaging ten yards in width, with the entire depth of the gallery as height; and it is their duty to pull this down, to carry it away in waggons, and cast it as refuse over the dip. On the first day of each month, a steward goes to each of these galleries "to set" or make contracts

with the crews; and after some disputing and bickering, the one party asking for more than he is likely to get, and the other offering less than he is ready to give, they at last come to an agreement somewhat like the following, the three partners are to work their bargain for 11d. per ton, i.e., they are to receive 11d. for every ton of rock they clear away. Every waggon load, usually weighing about two tons, is weighed on a machine, and entered in a book opposite the crew's number by the machiner. Sometimes, according to the nature of the rock, the terms of agreement vary, as, for example, 10d. per ton and 3s. per square yard. This triumvirate This triumvirate must provide their own tools, powder, &c. There are also the rubbishmen, whose duty it is to clear away all the rubbish from the gallery before the bargains of the quarrymen proper, at the rate of so much per ton. Their minimum wages is about 3s. 4d. per day, and many of them, especially during short winter days or owing to wet weather, must work exceedingly hard so as to be able to reach this minimum.

A crew of quarrymen, in the restricted sense of the term, is generally made up of three men and a journeyman. The latter is usually a boy or a young man working for so much fixed wages per month, the three partners alone to be responsible for it. Of these four, two work in y twll (the gallery), and two in y lan (a workshed), and before we can understand the whole process through which a piece of rock passes until it becomes a slate ready to be placed on a roof, we must carefully follow the work of each of these pairs of quarrymen.

And it is with the two working in the gallery that we must begin. They have a bargain, 55 feet deep and 27 feet wide, on which to work. At the beginning of the month they contract to work on terms of what is called poundage, which we shall presently explain. Now behold the two men climbing, by means of a rope, to a height say of 36 feet. There they stand on a step of about 19 square feet, and begin to consider how they may best pull down from the rock the block on which they stand. They agree that the first

thing they must do is to bore a hole as nearly as they can along the cleavage of the rock, in which they put powder; and after the blasting, the outer part of the block has been partly separated from the mountain by a very narrow cleft. But it is only partly, for one side of it still pushes into the rock, and it must be separated on this side also. This is often done by what is called pillaring, but oftener powder must do duty here again. A hole is therefore bored from the outer surface of the block, until it reaches the afore-mentioned cleft. But how is this done? The men fasten a square wooden board, each of the sides of which measures about four feet, by its corners by means of a rope, taking great care that the lengths of the rope from each corner be equal; they bring together the ends of these parts, and fasten them to another rope which has been secured at the top of the gallery. It is on this board that the men now work, the one sitting cosily in a corner turning the auger, and taking care to hold it as nearly as possible on the pillarage of the rock, the other striking with a hammer. The explosion of the powder rammed into this hole generally throws down our block of rock. But

suppose it fails to do so. The two men now let down two ropes, go down along them to the block, wind the ropes round their waists, and by means of crowbars force the block down from beneath their feet, while they themselves hang by the ropes in mid-air like a spider by his web.

Now suppose our block to be a representative one as to quality and shape. Let it be 4 feet 4 inches long, 4 feet 8 inches wide, and 3 feet thick. Before touching the block, the skilful quarryman asks himself,-What can be best got out of this block? How am I to make it yield me the greatest sum of money? We will take for granted that the following is the course he decides upon. First, then, he splits it right in the middle. Then, with a suitable tool called gouge, he cuts, right in the middle, across one end of the upper half of the block, a narrow, shallow ditch running at right angles to the previous cleft, or as nearly parallel as possible to the pillarage of the rock. Running a somewhat sharp-pointed chisel