Since the visit of Mr. Pennant to the demesne of Welsh Pool, the castle has not only been put into a habitable condition, but even revived with all that reverence for antiquity which the amiable nationality of that elegant scholar and antiquary could desire. The park, now furnished with many and full grown forest trees, sweeps down the verdant brow of the fine hill below the castle, to the very suburbs of the town; and from the highest apex of the hill, at a spot marked out by an index, that is screened by embowering woods in the approach, a scene commensurate to the greatness of the whole is unfolded to the eye, comprehending distant views of Snowdon, Cader-Idris, and the huge Plinlimmon. CUSTOMS AND MANNERS OF THE WELSH. ANCIENT manners are less obliterated by time and the varying modes of life in North Wales, than in most of the other provinces of Britain. In this age of communication and intelligence, few will be credulously eager to imagine that the inhabitants of any one part of our island are materially distinguished in their characters from those of another: yet none can immerge themselves in this romantic country, without being struck by the superior modesty and simplicity of its inhabitants. Removed from active scenes of commercial life, and from corrupting examples of selfish splendour, their minds seem sufficiently occupied in the limited transactions of their own little world, without experiencing interruption from any envious feeling at the triumphs of the greater or more wealthy. It is from the peasantry, the national character of an agricultural district is naturally to be deduced; and those of Cambria undoubtedly present an illustration of the happiest description. The poverty of the soil, scantiness of population, and great distance from populous towns, render Wales a residence unsuited to the agricultural capitalist. The land is subdivided into small portions, and amongst a considerable number of yeomen. Hence it arises, that the children of poverty are not frowned on by contempt, and the humbler classes do not acquire those envious and disreputable habits, by which, in other countries, they are too often tempted to resist the ostentations of the rich. Their manners are obliging without servility, and plain without rusticity; their familiarity springs from kindness, not from disrespect; and they exhibit an independence the more to be admired in proportion to its obviously natural growth. Our earliest annals inform us that the Cambrians “were a people light and active, and more fierce than strong:” all classes, from the prince to the peasant, were devoted to arms, and prepared to give a ready service at the first summons of the trumpet. Their military spirit was unconfined, and love of their country boundless. The profession of arms was held in so much estimation, that to die in one’s bed was deemed disgraceful, and the field of battle held to be the only honourable grave.