I have read in a book an account of an incident which tradition alleges took place near the spot on which we are standing. This was a contest between Dafydd and his rival bard, Rhys Meigan. Dafydd's shafts of satire overwhelmed his opponent, who fell dead--the victim of ridicule. _Cardiff Naturalists' Visit to Gwern-y-Cleppa, May 10th, 1893._ IN PRAISE OF EISTEDDFODAU. As long ago as the 15th century an ancestor whom I have been reading about lately--Ivor Hael--appears to have been celebrated particularly for his support of the Eisteddfodau of that period and of music in general. Later on, my grandfather and father always did their best to promote the idea of the Eisteddfod, and on several occasions presided at those gatherings. I, personally, consider the Eisteddfod a great institution. One of the reasons why many of our English friends do not support Eisteddfodau, and are inclined to speak slightingly of them, is because of the religious side which commences with the Gorsedd; but I think if our friends paid a little more attention to it, and attended oftener, they would not be inclined to ridicule the institution. An Eisteddfod, anywhere, is a very interesting event, but one at Pontypridd seems to be of all others the most interesting. Pontypridd itself is full of reminiscences of old and modern Wales. On that very stone--the Rocking Stone--on the hill where some of us have been to-day, some very earnest bards, no doubt, at different times had their seats, and it does not require a very vivid imagination to picture on that stone one of those unfortunate bards that were left after the Massacre of the Bards of Edward. Then we have not far away the remains of the old monastery of Pen Rhys, where tradition says rested Ap Tudor, or at all events to whom the monastery was erected. At that very place, that great terror of England and of the Normans--Owen Glendower--who was at that time residing at Llantrisant, was stated to have presided at an Eisteddfod soon after his incursion into Wales. Great bardic addresses were delivered there, and one, written to Sir John Morgan of Tredegar, is now in the archives of Tredegar. Coming to later times, we have Cadwgan of the Battleaxe, who was supposed to have been sharpening his battleaxe at the time he was going down the Rhondda, so that it must have been pretty sharp by the time he arrived at his destination. [Illustration: "_There is at the present moment a wave of music-hall melodies passing over the country._"] There is at the present moment a wave of music-hall melodies passing over the country, and I think it is one of the duties of the Eisteddfodau to try to counteract the music-hall fancy, now so prevalent. Not many days ago, I was reminded of an incident in which a lady asked a friend whether he was fond of music, and he replied "Yes, if it is not too good." Unfortunately, that is the opinion of about one-half of the civilized world.