ABSTRACT
CHAP. I. In one of those beautiful and retired valleys which abound in the country once known by the general name of Snowdon, and which now forms a part of the country of Caernarvon, was seated the humble but hospitable dwelling of the reverend Evan Evans.2 e high mountain of Penmanmawr defended this little mansion from the chilling blasts of the north east; whilst a stream purer/ than crystal ran murmuring among the rocks which time and the winter’s torrents had separated from the neighbouring mountains, forming a series of successive water-falls before his windows, and clothing its banks with an eternal verdure. ousands of sheep, whose eeces might vie with snow in whiteness, were the happy tenants of this peaceful vale; whose innocent bleatings, being echoed by surrounding woods, and mixed with the songs of birds and the murmurs of the brook, formed a concert of natural and soothing music, which art can seldom equal, and never excel. Here Mr. Evans had resided for upwards of eighteen years, and exercised the pastoral o ce literally over his sheep, and guratively over a numerous parish in a manner that won him the hearts of all his congregation.
