This sect is by no means confined to the town of Caernarvon; but in many villages, and several market towns, both in North and South Wales, they have established regular chapels. “They have (says a correspondent to the Gentleman’s Magazine) {197} periodical meetings in many of the larger towns, to which they come from thirty to forty miles round. At one held at Denbigh, about last April, there were, I believe, upwards of four thousand people, from different parts. At another, held at Bala, soon afterwards, nearly double that number were supposed to be present.” The last number appears rather to be exaggerated, though the letter, being dated from Denbigh, should be considered as authoritative. Another correspondent to the Gentleman’s Magazine gives the following information respecting the sect: “That they are not a distinct sect, but Methodists, of the same persuasion as the late Mr. Whitfield; for though there are several congregations of the Wesleyan Methodists in this country, there is no such custom amongst them. But jumping during religious worship is no new thing amongst the other party, having (by what I can learn) been practised by them for many years past. I have seen some of their pamphlets in the Welsh language, in which this custom is justified by the example of David, who danced before the ark; and of the lame man, restored by our blessed Saviour, at the gate of the temple, who leaped for joy.” How far this gentleman’s account may be accurate, I leave for others to decide: it is certainly to be lamented, in a country where the Christian religion is preached in a style of the greatest purity and simplicity, that these poor ignorant deluded wretches should be led to a form of worship so dissonant to the established church of England, by a poor ignorant fellow, devoid of education and common sense. The same road we had so much admired the preceding Saturday, soon brought us to BANGOR, the oldest Episcopal see in Wales; being founded in 516. The situation is deeply secluded, “far from the bustle of a jarring world,” and must have accorded well with monastic melancholy; for the Monks, emerging from their retired cells, might here indulge in that luxurious gloominess, which the prospect inspires, and which would soothe the asperities inflicted upon them by the severe discipline of superstition. The situation of Bangor appears more like a scene of airy enchantment than reality; and the residences of the Canons are endeared to the votaries of landscape by the prospect they command. On the opposite shore, the town of Beaumaris was seen straggling up the deep declivity, with its quay crowded with vessels, and all appeared bustle and confusion; the contrast, which the nearer prospect inspired, was too evident to escape our notice, where the “Oak, whose boughs were moss’d with age, And high top bald with dry antiquity,”