ter part of his compositions, however clever and elegant, are, it
must be confessed, such as do little credit to the pen of an
ecclesiastic, being bitter poignant satires, which were the cause of much
pain and misery to individuals; one of his works, however, is not only of
a kind quite consistent with his sacred calling, but has been a source of
considerable blessing. To him the Cambrian Church is indebted for the
version of the Psalms, which for the last two centuries it has been in
the habit of using. Previous to the version of the Archdeacon a
translation of the Psalms had been made into Welsh by William Middleton,
an officer in the naval service of Queen Elizabeth, in the
four-and-twenty alliterative measures of the ancients bards. It was
elegant and even faithful, but far beyond the comprehension of people in
general, and consequently by no means fitted for the use of churches,
though intended for that purpose by the author, a sincere Christian,
though a warrior. Avoiding the error into which his predecessor had
fallen, the Archdeacon made use of a measure intelligible to people of
every degree, in which alliteration is not observed, and which is called
by the Welsh y mesur cyffredin, or the common measure. His opinion of
the four-and-twenty measures the Archdeacon has given to the world in
four cowydd lines to the following effect:

"I've read the master-pieces great
Of languages no less than eight,
But ne'er have found a woof of song
So strict as that of Cambria's tongue."

After breakfast on the morning subsequent to my arrival, Henrietta and I
roamed about the town, and then proceeded to view the bridges which lead
over the strait to Anglesey. One, for common traffic, is a most
beautiful suspension bridge completed in 1820, the result of the mental
and manual labours of the ingenious Telford; the other is a tubular
railroad bridge, a wonderful structure, no doubt, but anything but
graceful. We remained for some time on the first bridge, admiring the
scenery, and were not a little delighted, as we stood leaning over the
principal arch, to see a proud vessel pass beneath us in full sail.

Satiated with gazing we passed into Anglesey, and making our way to the
tubular bridge, which is to the west of the suspension one, entered one
of its passages and returned to the main land.

The air was exceedingly hot and sultry, and on coming to a stone bench,
beneath a shady wall, we both sat down