He was the
first person I had ever met of the fraternity to which he belonged,
who did not endeavour to make a parade of his abstinence and self-
denial.
After drinking some tolerably good ale in the public house I again
started. As I left the village a clock struck eight. The evening
was delightfully cool; but it soon became nearly dark. I passed
under high rocks, by houses and by groves, in which nightingales
were singing, to listen to whose entrancing melody I more than once
stopped. On coming to a town, lighted up and thronged with people,
I asked one of a group of young fellows its name.
"Bethesda," he replied.
"A scriptural name," said I.
"Is it?" said he; "well, if its name is scriptural the manners of
its people are by no means so."
A little way beyond the town a man came out of a cottage and walked
beside me. He had a basket in his hand. I quickened my pace; but
he was a tremendous walker, and kept up with me. On we went side
by side for more than a mile without speaking a word. At length,
putting out my legs in genuine Barclay fashion, I got before him
about ten yards, then turning round laughed and spoke to him in
English. He too laughed and spoke, but in Welsh. We now went on
like brothers, conversing, but always walking at great speed.
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