The hall, which was handsomely decorated, now shone with the presence of a vast number of well-dressed ladies and gentlemen; in fact, it was a bright assemblage of the beauty and fashion of the town, and surrounding country, sitting in anxious expectation of the commencement. At length the business of the meeting was begun by a speech from the president, who occupied a central seat on the raised platform. He dwelt emphatically on the laudable object of the Eisteddvod; “to preserve from annihilation one of the most ancient languages spoken by mankind, remarkable for its copiousness, energy, and expression; that, like a perpetual living miracle, kept its firm stand in this solitary nook of country, the principal vestige of our national characteristics;—to revive and preserve the beautiful melodies which had been the delight of our gallant and patriotic forefathers;—and lastly, by emulation, to keep alive the brilliant blaze of the native Awen, the darling poesy of the land, which yielded their fragrant and refreshing blossoms, lovely sacrifices on the altar of Taste; that with their incense appeased the rugged Genius of the cold and stern realities of life.” Penillion singing succeeded; in which the minstrels of Merionethshire excelled. The rest went on in rotation, minutely according with the description given by the ever-faithful Michael Drayton. {245a} —“Some there were bards, that in their sacred rage Recorded the descents, and acts of every age; Some with nimble joints that struck the warbling string; In fing’ring some unskill’d, but used right well to sing To other’s harp; of which you both might find Great plenty, and of each excelling in their kind, That at the Stethva {245b} oft obtain’d a victor’s praise, Had won the silver harp, and worn Apollo’s bays; Whose verses they deduced from those first golden times, In sundry forms of feet, and sundry suits of rhymes. In Englyns {245c} some there were that in their subject strain; Some makers that again affect a loftier vein, Rehearse their high conceits in Cowyths; {245d} other some In Owdels {245e} theirs express, as matter haps to come. So varying still their moods, observing yet in all, Their quantities, their rests, their measures metrical; For to that sacred art they most themselves apply, Addicted from their birth to so much poesy, That in the mountains those who scarce have seen a book, Most skilfully will make, as though from art they took.”