To a stranger and bystander, this occupation appeared more dangerous than it really was; in persons habituated to bodily difficulty, the nervous system became gradually braced, and the solids attained that state of rigidity which banished irritability; while the mind, accustomed to scenes of danger, lost that timidity which frequently led to the dreadful disaster. To the person whose heart palpitates at the near approach to such heights, it must appear a presumptuous venture, and daily instances of its fatality might be expected; but facts demonstrate the contrary, and serve to prove how much we are the creatures of habit, and to what an extent difficulty and danger may be made subordinate to art and perseverance. A sight of this perilous employment would remind the beholder of that fine description— — How fearful And dizzy ’tis to cast one’s eyes so low! The crows and choughs, that wing the midnight air, Shew scarce so gross as beetles. Half-way down Hangs one who gathers samphire;—dreadful trade. SHALL I GET MARRIED THIS MONTH? During the last century a singular custom was observed at _Capel Lochwyd_, on the celebration of the annual wakes at Holyhead. This joyous festival then continued a fortnight and a day,—commencing the Sunday before the 25th of July, and ending the second Sunday after. On each of the three Sundays of the wakes, all the inhabitants of the town and neighbourhood, old and young, repaired to the chapel, which is situated on a very high part of the mountain, on the west side, close to a cleft, or ravine, that leads down, or rather led down, to the sea shore, (as the pass is now partly obstructed by loose stones); the old to be spectators, and the young, of both sexes that were or thought that they were marriageable, to be actors. On the shore, just above high water-mark, there is a well of most delicious water, called Ffynon (well) of Lochwyd,—having fine gravel at the bottom; and the custom was, for the lasses and lads to take a mouthful of the water, and fill both their hands with the gravel from the bottom of the well, and then endeavour to ascend the ravine (which must at all times have been very difficult,) to the chapel. Whoever succeeded, without spilling a drop of the water or dropping a single pebble, in arriving at the chapel, and casting the water and gravel on the altar, was esteemed certain of being married before the moon had attained its greatest age. The distance between the well and the chapel is about a quarter of a mile; and those who had been unfortunate in either spilling the water or dropping the gravel, were obliged to return; and, to defeat the endeavour of others to ascend, they used all their wit, resorting to grimace and buffoonery to excite laughter in those they met; by which means, very few ever reached the desired goal with the freight they started with from the well. And even,