the castle by Mr. Abraham Jones, wheelwright, of Dowlais, in the year 1819.

In the summer of 1846, a room in one of the principal towers was cleared of a vast quantity of rubbish, under the direction of E. J. Hutchins, Esq., of Dowlais. This room is about 90 feet in circumference, and has a groined roof of 12 arches, supported by a central pillar three feet in diameter. An arched doorway, five feet in width and 12 feet in height, leads, by a flight of seven steps, to this chamber. From a hole which has been made in the interior, the wall would appear to be about 40 feet thick. The proprietors of the property have placed a substantial door at the entrance of this chamber in order to preserve it. There appears to have been a a strong archway leading to it, and on the other side is a doorway which has been walled up. The remaining part of the other tower has evidently a room beneath the ruins, similar to the one described, and if it were opened, it would, no doubt, well repay the labour.

"Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid

Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire,
Hands, that the rod of empire might have sway'd,
Or wak'd to ecstasy the living lyre."—(Gray.)

There is a public-house near the castle, called "Pant Cad Ivor," or "Pant Coed Ivor," kept by Mr. David Williams, which is called "Ivor's Arms.”

The mountain on which the castle is built is a vast mass of limestone; a tram-road passes near it, for the purpose of conveying the stone to the iron works of Merthyr. At the bottom of this immense rock, and on the west side of the castle, is the cataract of Pontysarn, on the Lesser Taff river. The bridge is erected over two rocks of equal height, having no more than 18 feet between. When a

person stands on the bridge and looks down, the appearance is sufficient to inspire awe, and unnerve the spectator, because the river can hardly be seen between the deep cliffs, concealing itself as it were from public gaze, and telling only of its presence by the thunder of its falls.

The bridge is a wooden structure, nine feet in width. It was formerly much narrower, consisting only of a few planks. A boy in the employ of W. Meyrick, Esq., was nearly drowned in crossing the old bridge on horseback. The horse slipped, and horse and rider were precipitated into the river below, a depth of about 35 feet. The boy escaped unhurt; but the horse was much injured. The son of R. Forman, Esq., was unfortunately drowned a few yards below the bridge, in what is called the " Blue Pool," about 25 years ago.

In looking up from this spot, Morlais Castle appears as if it were in the firmament—a grey cloud as its mantle, and heedless of all, save time only. The Peaks of Banuwchdeni, called the "Breconshire Beacons," may be seen from Morlais Castle. Snow remains upon their summits a great part of the year; they form part of the chain of mountains from Llandilo Vawr to Crickhowel, and present a sharp outline and majestic aspect rising 2,862 feet above the level of the sea. The old road from Merthyr may be pursued from Morlais Castle, near Gelly Faelog, over the mountains. The ascent to many of these mountains is toilsome and rugged, but the lover of nature's "wilder beauties" will be well repaid by the beauty and variety of the surrounding scenery. The Hepste water-falls are 12 miles from Merthyr; they attract considerable numbers of visitors during the season.

The river Morlais takes its rise in the Dowlais mountain.

By the new works it passes Sir J. J. Guest's farm, Mr. Powel's brewery, Gelly Faelog bridge, through Penydarran works, passing Morlais bridge, where it turns a grist-mill, the property of Job James, Esq., and enters the Taff a little above the iron bridge. Here the Taff is wide and rapid, and in the winter season is often swollen to a great height; some years ago it overflowed the embankment in consequence of a quantity of cinders being thrown into the river, and such was the force of the water that it threatened to carry all before it. About 100 yards below the iron bridge is a considerable slope of masonry, which is designed to divert the stream into the Plymouth Feeder, over which the water glides smoothly till it reaches the bottom, when it tumbles, foams, and rolls, in a sea-like manner. The iron bridge was built, about 50 years since, by Mr. Watkin George. The stone bridge that had been erected previously, fell, owing to a very heavy flood after a long frost of 14 weeks, which brought down great quantities of ice and woodwork from the river above the bridge. The stone bridge near the Cyfarthfa works, called "Jackson's bridge," was built about 1793.

In 1815 the houses of Merthyr were very scattered and the roads bad, and, like many other towns in Wales, had no regular mode of building. The market was held by the side of the road-butchers had stalls separately. There is now a good market-house, which stands on about two acres of land, and is lighted in the evening by upwards of 90 gas-burners. The principal market is on Saturday. The centre of this spacious place is occupied by traders in butter, cheese, bacon, &c., drapery, shoes, &c., and all kinds of hardware, toys, and sweetmeats, forming

quite a bazaar. On each side of the market are butchers' stalls, 112 in number; the meat is of an excellent quality; adjoining is the market for vegetables, great quantities of which are supplied from Bristol; those who attend with butter are principally from Carmarthenshire.

Besides the gas-lights many hundreds of candles illumine the building; if the walls were white it would give to the whole an air of greater comfort. Business is generally conducted in a peaceable manner, the only interruptions to general good order spring from the rivalry of the dealers in "rock," who seem to drive a flourishing trade. There are two bookstalls well furnished with books and the periodicals of the day.

In the front of the market is a spacious square, which, in summer time, is frequently filled with exhibitions of all kinds. We have seldom seen such a heterogeneous mass as presented itself to our view as we passed through the motley crowd one evening in the summer of 1847. The noise and hootings of rival comedians and musicians, who, foremost of a band of heroes, were advocating the respective merits of their performances, tended to produce a scene of tumult and confusion upon which " Babel" might have been written with some truth. Many appeared to be allured by the rhetoric of the orators, the fascination of music, and the force of example, into these scenes of illusive pleasures.

In 1815, there were very few public houses in Merthyr, Dowlais, and Coedycymmer; there are now about 100 inns and beer-houses in Dowlais alone. Penydarran House was the only substantial house, and occupied by S. Homfray, Esq., who was the owner of Penydarran iron works.

It was once said that the beauty of Merthyr began and ended with this house, but such have been the improvements of late years that this will not now apply. The turnpike-gate that stood near Penydarran works was taken down at the time of the Rebecca riots, though the rioters did not visit Merthyr-those at the Morlais bridge and iron bridge had been previously removed.

The gate that stood near the London warehouse is only remembered by some of the older inhabitants.

The Court-house (which is the residence of William Thomas, Esq.) is the most ancient house in Merthyr, and has been in the possession of the family for upwards of 200 years. It was purchased of Thomas Lewis, Esq., of the Vann, near Caerphilly, in this county, and of Soberton, in the county of Southampton-one of the ancestors of the present Lady Harriet Clive, the lady of Robert Henry Clive, who owns considerable estates in this county. The interior of the house is curiously constructed, and, like the exterior, bespeaks antiquity. All the flooring is of split oak fastened with oak pins. Till the alterations were made by the present proprietor, there was not a nail in the whole building. It was the opinion of Mr. Taliesin Williams, that as Morlais Castle was never finished as a residence, but only used as a watch-tower, and as the Court-house belonged to the same owner, that it was the residence of Ivor Bach, the petty Prince who reigned at that time-he was killed at Pant Cadivor.

There is something very antique and picturesque in this house, with its gabled end, curious entrance, and porches covered with foliage. The mind is filled with poetic associations, and we are carried back to the time when nature reigned here in all her primitive grandeur.