impulse of the moment, he hastened to Sir Richard, and described the disgraceful situation in which he had just beheld his son, wandering from door to door. With manly feeling the father acknowledged the justness of the reproof, received the child, and, by an excellent education, laid the foundation of his celebrity and good fortune. The last fleecy clouds passed from the horizon before the splendour of a glowing noon, as the Wanderer resumed his quiet walk towards the lonely and wooded retreats of Euloe. Though scarcely a quarter of a mile from the main road, so secluded is the spot that a guide is usually engaged to thread the paths leading to its timeworn and romantic castle. The ruins of a massy tower and broad dilapidated walls, consisting of a sort of horn-work, first present themselves to the eye. At one end of an ancient oblong court, overgrown with weeds and moss, stands the ivy-mantled porch and turrets -lone and neglected as the scene, and forcibly corresponding with the description in Gray's Elegy;—the deserted abbey and the modern hamlet, with its rustic church in the distance, giving all the feeling of truth to the touching reflections of the poet. The only sound which breaks upon the silence is the sighing of the wind through the deep ravine below the tower; and on the other side appears the broad, deep moat, where the old draw-bridge once stood. From the summit of the tower the Wanderer beheld, over thickly wooded vales and glens, a wildly picturesque prospect, which impressed him with an idea of solitude and silence almost as profound as if he had stood amidst the spreading forests and rivers of the new world. It was here, he remembered, that Hoele, a true gentleman of Flyntshire, was wont to give the bagge of the silver harpe to the best harper of North Wales, as by immemorial priviledge of his auncestors dwelling at Penrin, in Flintshire; and that he hath also a ruinous castelet, or pile, at a place called Castell Yollo.* * With little difficulty modernized into Euloe. The low narrow defiles of Coed Euloe and the vicinity became memorable by the defeat of Henry II., when commanding in person, during one of his most formidable invasions of Wales. The sons of Owen Gwynedd permitted the enemy to approach along the passes of the country, till they were gradually entangled in the obscurity of the surrounding woods, and narrow glens, and vallies. The onslaught of the Welsh was terrific; their enemies were thrown into confusion, and pursued with slaughter into the heart of the English camp. Enraged at this signal disgrace to the royal arms, Henry advanced with his whole force; but falling into the same difficulties, the assault was renewed, and he had very nearly perished, with the chief of his army, at Coleshill. A number of his leading barons were slain; the bearer of the royal standard,-esteemed the bravest of the brave*seized with a strange panic,-flung it from him and fled, crying out that the king was killed! But that wise and valiant monarch was eagerly rallying his forces; and, charging in person, finally repulsed the mountaineers, and withdrew to a more secure station. Proceeding next along the coast to cut off the retreat of Prince Owen, by getting between him and the hills, he was again foiled in his object by that able leader anticipating his movement, and taking up a strong position on a plain near Saint Asaph, still named Owen's retreat, whence he retired to Bryn y Pin, a post protected by imTraces of his encampment are yet mense ramparts and ditches. found upon a lofty rock above the church, now called Pen y Parc. In the vicinity are two high mounds, the site, it is supposed, of fortresses long since destroyed. One near Gadlys appears to have been the seat of some Welsh prince; the other, about a mile beyond Flint, is called Bryn y Cwn, or the hill of dogs,—very probably an ancient hunting seat. A circumstance occurred subsequently to this Welsh victory, which has been thought to indicate that the report of King Edgar's having, in 1157, extirpated the race of wolves could not be strictly true. A Cambrian gentleman * Henry of Essex. |