Welsh Journals

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THE CAMBRIAN QUARTERLY MAGAZINE AND No.2. —APRIL 1, 1829. —Vol. I. SUMMER RAMBLES IN WALES. Llandrindod Wells! How little did I think, when, for the first and last time, I drank the complete antithesis of " delicious poison" from those unsavoury springs, that I should ever make them the subject of an essay, and an essay too in a Welsh Maga¬ zine. And, at this distance of time, (for it is now six years ago,) it requires no small effort to recall the shadowy recollections of a blithesome period ; no small portion of moral courage to make certain confessions to the public, which I am not obliged to make unless I choose it. Truth, however, against the world. Reader, though I have just quoted the most sacred adage of the bardic race, yet—I am—pshaw, this is folly! Hear then the truth! Reader, / am not a Welshman! Thou hast my secret. But why the necessity of this exposure ? says the compassionate reader, feeling for my situation ; why not keep the thing to your¬ self? Aye, there's the rub. If I had not told it myself, I should have been found out before I had written a page. I could no more pass myself off for a genuine Cymro than the gross leg of a Leicestershire ram could palm itself off for a thyme-fed trotter of the Denbighshire hills. It was necessary that I should be candid. Had I boldly declared myself a true Cambrian, it would have hurt my conscience to be found out. But the public must now be informed who I really am, for I have sundry pleasing and pathetic visions of future articles floating about my organ of imagination, which will lose half their charm unless their author be known, and kept in mind at the time of reading them. Reader, I am not very young, though somewhat frolicsome: I walk a great deal, because I like it, and because I grow fat: I am what Englishers call a jolly-looking gentleman, NO. II. R