fod, constituted as it is at present, will never realize that when a prose style has been developed in Wales from a concentration on the methods of Elis Wyn and the closely- related manner of speech of the farmer and the cottager, then, and then only, shall we hope to expect a literary achievement that we boast of but do not possess. It is lack of insight of this sort that makes the Eisteddfod such a pathetic failure. It is ignorant of its own business. It is ludicrously dead to artistic progress and development in culture. It could teach a whole nation to spell correctly in a week. And we cannot even spell correctly, let alone write idiomatically. And we wonder why the Eisteddfod does not produce masterpieces. From this arises the further reproach that the Eisteddfod sets no standards of tone and taste that create the atmos- phere for all artistic development. The Eisteddfod has no canons. Its judgments depend upon the idiosyncracies of its casually-chosen adjudicators. It offers no advice. It tenders no suggestions. It is not a university. It is merely an examining body. It picks the best out of a bundle and puts a ribbon in its coat. That is the extent of the culture of the Eisteddfod. If the Eisteddfod were in earnest over drama, it would explain the whole dramatic art in one of its side-shows. It would show how to put up stages, how to make scenery, how to learn simple pro- duction, and the like. One can imagine the impetus such an innovation would give to drama in a very short time. If the Gorsedd were in earnest over poetry, it would issue annual popular edicts on the art of poetry to all concerned. If the Eisteddfod Association were in earnest over prose and history and literary criticism, it would not be content to allow the prize works to remain locked up in London 0 ble daethost ti fy lolo ? Tecach wyt na breuddwyd bardd I Pam gadewaist wlad goleuni Tithau n geriwb bach mor hardd ? Clywais gan yr engyl, mami, Dlysed yw dy wallt modrwyog Pwy ai rhoddodd ar dy ben ? Fuost ti'n yspeilio tannau Aur delynau engyl nen ? Ym mhle cefaist las dy lygaid ? Gad i'th fami ddirnad pie Bys rhyw angel bach direidus Paentiodd hwy a glas y ne Caersws. Am y serch oedd yn y byd, Ac nid oeddwn fodlon yno Rol i hwnnw fynd a mryd. Naddo, mami, godre'r haulwen Gydiais ar' fy nhaith i'r byd Nis gollyngais nes disgynodd Am fy mhen yn aur i gyd." Nage, mami, dawnsio hefo Clychau'r eos bum rhy fTri, Nes i'r gwlith oedd yn eu calon Redeg i fy Hygaid i." offices at the bidding or the neglect of a suave and casual dictator. If the Local Committee were in earnest over its musical programme, it would seek the advice of great musicians and not be content with the obvious limitations of its own provincialism. With a lazy, effete, and be- tinselled Gorsedd, with an undemocratic and spiritless Eisteddfod Association, with a parochial Local Committee, the Eisteddfod stands no chance of being anything but a failure in the meaning of the spirit and the soul of things. The remedy is simple a thorough purge simpler still, bring the people's institution back again into the hands of the people. The most democratic festival in the world is governed and controlled by caucuses that have not even the merit of being successful. The Gorsedd is a closed wit-less oligarchy. It must cease to have control over the Eisteddfod. In its place something in the nature of an open, worthy Academy of Letters should be estab- lished. This academy should set down certain standards of tone and taste, should develop and guide literary consciousness, should co-ordinate music and drama and verse, and above all it should have serious control over the vagaries of all Local Committees in matters of style and expression. Further, the Eisteddfod Association, having degenerated into a one-man committee, must be forcibly challenged to report progress and show reason why it should not be abolished, and in its place must be estab- lished a representative council of experts charged with the business of the material and spiritual prosperity of the Eisteddfod, and liable to be impeached every year for neglect or betrayal of the nation's trust. The matter is one for Eisteddfodwyr to decide. IOLO. a Onid yw dy fami'n ffol ? Pwy fu'n lliwio'th ruddiau tyner ? Ai y wawr wrth garu'r Hi, A dy hudo i'r gyfrinach Roddodd beth o'i gwrid i ti ? Nage, mami, yn y gwanwyn, Gwelais baentio blodau'r dydd, Hoffais liw y rhos a mynais Beth o honno ar fy ngrudd." Dywcd eto beth yw'r miwsig Sydd mor hudol yn dy lais ? Ofna'th fam y bydd rhyw ddiwrnod Boen o'i herwydd dan rhyw ais. Cwrdd ehedydd wnes, mewn cwmwl, Wedi blino'i hun yn Ian Rhoddais innau f' adain iddo Yn gyfnewid am ei gan." 0 fy nhrysor bach penfelyn, Yn dy holi, tithau'n dympian Eisieu cysgu, yn ei chol. Rho dy ddwylaw imi, nghariad, Crwydro wnawn hyd ddolydd hud Cyd bydd gwaed ym mron dy fami, Ni chaith siomi 'n serch y byd." Awen Mona.