writer of Interludes, or a person who went about
playing them, that was not a scamp. He might be a clever man, I don't
say he was not. Who was a cleverer man than Twm o'r Nant with his
Pleasure and Care, and Riches and Poverty, but where was there a greater
blackguard? Why, not in all Wales. And if you knew this other
fellow--what's his name--Fondle's history, you would find that he was not
a bit more respectable than Twm o'r Nant, and not half so clever. As for
his leaving the Baptists I don't believe a word of it; he was turned out
of the connection, and then went about the country saying he left it. No
Baptist connection would ever have a writer of Interludes in it, not Twm
o'r Nant himself, unless he left his ales and Interludes and wanton
hussies, for the three things are sure to go together. You say he went
over to the Church of Rome; of course he did, if the Church of England
were not at hand to receive him, where should he go but to Rome? No
respectable church like the Methodist or the Independent would have
received him. There are only two churches in the world that will take in
anybody without asking questions, and will never turn them out however
bad they may behave; the one is the Church of Rome, and the other the
Church of Canterbury; and if you look into the matter you will find that
every rogue, rascal and hanged person since the world began, has belonged
to one or other of those communions."

In the evening I took a walk with my wife and daughter past the Plas
Newydd. Coming to the little mill called the Melyn Bac, at the bottom of
the gorge, we went into the yard to observe the water-wheel. We found
that it was turned by a very little water, which was conveyed to it by
artificial means. Seeing the miller's man, a short dusty figure,
standing in the yard, I entered into conversation with him, and found to
my great surprise that he had a considerable acquaintance with the
ancient language. On my repeating to him verses from Taliesin he
understood them, and to show me that he did, translated some of the lines
into English. Two or three respectable-looking lads, probably the
miller's sons, came out, and listened to us. One of them said we were
both good Welshmen. After a little time the man asked me if I had heard
of Huw Morris, I told him that I was well acquainted with his writings,
and enquired whether the place in which he had lived was not somewhere in
the neighbourhood. He said it was;