Wit and Wisdom
of
Lord Tredegar

western mall, ltd.
cardiff

WIT AND WISDOM
OF
LORD TREDEGAR

1911.
WESTERN MAIL, LIMITED.
CARDIFF, NEWPORT, SWANSEA.
MERTHYR, BRECON AND
176, FLEET STREET, LONDON

Table of Contents

[FOREWORD.]
[WIT AND WISDOM OF LORD TREDEGAR.]
[EPIGRAMMATIC ELOQUENCE.]
[MEMORIES OF BALACLAVA.]
[QUIPS AT THE SERVANTS' BALL.]
[ON ARCHBISHOPS AND BISHOPS.]
[THE TRIALS OF THE CLERGY.]
[SERMONS AND SINNERS.]
[THE OLD PARISH CHURCH.]
[RELIGIOUS TOLERANCE.]
[THE CRICKETER CURATE.]
[THE BROTHERHOOD OF MAN.]
[THE USES OF THE PARISH ROOM.]
[GENTLE MANNERS.]
[REVERENCE FOR RELIGION.]
[THE TEACHING OF REFINEMENT.]
[IN PRAISE OF HOSPITALS.]
[WHEN IS A HOSPITAL A SUCCESS.]
[RECLAIM THE STREET URCHIN.]
[THE INFLUENCE OF WOMEN.]
[A FRIEND FOR THE FRIENDLESS.]
[THE BRAVERY OF THE WORKERS.]
[A TRIBUTE TO THE ENGINE DRIVER.]
[TEMPERANCE "IN ALL THINGS."]
[TOTAL ABSTINENCE.]
[AN ANGELIC VISION.]
[CHATS TO AND ABOUT CABBIES.]
[TALKS TO LICENSED VICTUALLERS.]
[CAKES AND ALE.]
[THE GREAT LAND TYRANT.]
[TWO LORD TREDEGARS.]
[THE TRIALS OF BENEFACTORS.]
[WHAT IS A PHILANTHROPIST?]
[NATURALLY A CONSERVATIVE.]
[POLITICS ON THE BRAIN.]
[THE UNRULY HOUND.]
[THE WHOO WHOOPS.]
[M.P.'S AS BADGERS.]
[THE HONOUR OF BEING M.P.]
[NELSON'S SAYING.]
[THE DISADVANTAGES OF THE PEERAGE.]
[SWEEPS AS PEERS.]
[YOU CANNOT PLEASE EVERYBODY.]
[KEEP US STILL OUR SHORTHORNS.]
[INTEREST IN DAIRYING.]
[WHERE ALL CLASSES MEET.]
[WHERE THE AGRICULTURIST SHOULD STUDY.]
[A BLUE BOTTLE AND A BIRD.]
[A LIMIT EVEN TO SCIENCE.]
[AN EYE FOR A GOOD PAIR OF HORSES.]
[AS CATTLE DEALER.]
[THE BEST FARMER.]
[FOX-HUNTING AND DIPLOMACY.]
[AT AN ATHLETIC CLUB DINNER.]
[HUNTING.]
[TWO UNPROFITABLE HONOURS.]
[THE HAPPY FARMER.]
[EQUINE EXPRESSIONS.]
[KINDNESS TO ANIMALS.]
[TALKS ON EDUCATION.]
[THE ARCHÆOLOGY OF MONMOUTHSHIRE.]
[MONMOUTHSHIRE STILL WELSH.]
[FREEDOM OF MORGAN BROTHERHOOD.]
[A HYBRID COUNTY.]
[INTEREST IN EXPLORATION.]
[OLIVER CROMWELL AND NEWPORT.]
[WELSH PEOPLE EVEN IN CARDIFF.]
[THE SIEGE OF CAERPHILLY CASTLE.]
[GWERN-Y-CLEPPA.]
[IN PRAISE OF EISTEDDFODAU.]
[TREDEGAR HOUSE.]
[A LITTLE FAMILY HISTORY.]
[THE LATE COLONEL MORGAN.]
[THE MONMOUTHSHIRE TRIBUTE.]
[THE JUBILEE OF QUEEN VICTORIA.]
[THE LATE QUEEN VICTORIA.]
[THE LATE KING EDWARD.]
[THE PENNY WHISTLE OF REPUBLICANISM.]
[ON PRETORIA DAY.]
[ADMIRATION FOR AMERICAN SAILORS.]
[IMPROVEMENTS IN THE ARMY.]
[THE BOY SCOUT MOVEMENT.]
[NOT KNOWN HERE.]
[LIFE'S TRAGEDY AND COMEDY.]
[NEWPORT A SECOND LIVERPOOL]
[OXFORD AND CAMBRIDGE.]
[DOCTORS-OLD STYLE AND NEW.]
[ALL SORTS AND CONDITIONS.]
[A CONTRAST IN CORRESPONDENCE.]
[DREAMS AND TEARS.]
[THE PRECIPICE OF MATRIMONY.]
[HOW TO LIVE FOR EVER.]
[PUNCTUALITY "THE THIEF OF TIME."]
[NO KNOWLEDGE OF KISSES.]
[A SMART RETORT.]
[THE BUSHRANGER'S METHOD.]
[MAKING THE WAIST PLACES GLAD.]
[AS OTHERS SEE US.]
[THE MIGHTY LORD MAYOR.]
[A DAY OF GREAT JOY.]
[THE GOOD OLD ENGLISH OATH.]
[PRAISE IN BUCKETSFUL.]
[AN EASY SOLUTION.]
[A READY ANSWER.]
[WELCOME.]
[THE SEVEN AGES.]
[A DELICATE POINT.]
[THE HISTORIC HOUSE OF LORDS.]

[FOREWORD.]

There are a few observations which may be deemed appropriate in presenting to the public this collection of extracts from the speeches of Godfrey Charles Morgan, first Viscount Tredegar; but it is inconceivable that any should be necessary by way of apology. During the course of an active and a well-spent life, happily extended beyond the allotted span, Lord Tredegar has made hundreds of public utterances. Innumerable are the functions he has attended during half-a-century and over; and at most of them he has been the central figure. But while his high station would always have secured attention and respect for his words, this volume may serve to prove to future generations what this generation well knows, that Lord Tredegar has held his listeners by his humour or by his earnestness, according to the occasion, and that, in the homely phrase, he has always had "something to say." It is my hope, however, that this little book may have a still worthier mission. For I think it will be found to reveal a noble mind. The simple words of Lord Tredegar have time and again struck deep to the hearts of his audience. Collected here, they reveal the gentleness of his disposition and the purity of his motives. They show the consistency of his life. But they do much more. They appear to constitute a great moral force. Not that his lordship ever posed as preacher, or constituted himself a Court of Judgment on any class of his fellows. There is no trace of a superior tone in his speeches. His words show sympathetic insight into the trials and difficulties that beset the path of every one of us, and his desire was never to censure, but ever to encourage and assist with kindly suggestion and cheering thought.

No aspect of these extracts is so interesting as that which enables us to observe how faithfully and well Lord Tredegar has discharged his promises. Long before he could describe himself as a landowner, he said that if ever he came into that position he would give any assistance he could to his tenants in the way of improving his land. He hoped he would never become "such a ruffian as some people would make landlords out to be." Reading later speeches we find Lord Tredegar undertaking in his turn conscientiously the public duties previously discharged by his father. We find him making the acquaintance of the farmers and studying their difficulties. We find him raising the Tredegar Show to its present pre-eminence in the world of agriculture. It is a noble record of honesty of purpose. And agriculture, as well we know in Wales and Monmouthshire, is but one of Lord Tredegar's many interests. He has spoken wise words on education; he has urged the claims of charity. He has led the way in historical research, and inspired among many whose interest might not otherwise have been aroused a love of our ancient castles and our dear old parish churches. He has spoken eloquently of our Welsh heroes and bards. Upon the value of Eisteddfodau he loves to expound. But it is not these higher interests of his that have made him so beloved. His appeals for the ragged urchin of the streets, his appreciation of the bravery of the worker, his jokes at bazaars, his quips at the cabmen's annual dinners, his love of old customs, his pleasantries at the servants' balls, by these and by his transparent sincerity he has won the affections of all classes of the people, who have found in him a leader who can share sorrows as well as joys. His brave words have been the consolation of the widow of the humble soldier slain in battle, as they have been the encouragement of the boy or girl scholar shyly taking from his hand a prize. He has told the boys they will be all the better for total abstinence, and he has dined and joked with licensed publicans. "Here, at least, is inconsistency," may exclaim the stranger into whose hand this book may fall. But Lord Tredegar justifies himself by the fact that having licensed houses on his estate it is his duty to take an interest in those who conduct them.

Lord Tredegar has never sought to adorn his speeches with rhetoric. He has always spoken so that he who heard could understand. And yet he is reputed justly to be among the best of after-dinner speakers. If it be necessary to delve into the possible secret of his success, one might hazard a guess that it is because in his speeches it is the unexpected that always happens. The transition from grave to gay or from gay to grave is so swift that the mind of the listener is held as it were by a spell, and all is over e'er yet one thought it had begun.

Much of this, however, is in passing. Quite a multitude, at one time or another, has listened to the words of Godfrey Charles Morgan. Quite a multitude has been influenced by them. That multitude, I am sure, will be glad to have those words in permanent form. There may be but a sentence chosen from a speech that has been heard, but that sentence will be remembered or recollected. And to that greater multitude who by the natural force of circumstances cannot have listened to the words of Viscount Tredegar, this little collection may serve to show forth a figure that, though simple, is great in simplicity, and it were strange indeed if some sentences were not found which may help to make a crooked way straight.

The Editor.

[WIT AND WISDOM OF LORD TREDEGAR.]

[EPIGRAMMATIC ELOQUENCE.]

I would rather trust and be deceived, than be found to have suspected falsely.

Reduction of Armaments Meeting, Newport,
March 17th, 1899.

Some people will not go across a street to hear an oratorio, though they would go many miles to listen to that very entertaining melody, "Whoa, Emma!"—and I'm not sure that I shouldn't be one of them.—

Tredegar Show.
November 26th, 1879.

The other day I was doing a little bit of horse-cropping—I'm fond of that sort of thing—and went into an Irish dealer's yard, where I saw a horse which grunted very much. Looking at the dealer, I said, "The horse is a roarer," and the Irishman replied: "Ah, no, me lord, not a bit of it. I've 'ad 'im from two years ould, an' e' 'ad wunce a most desprit froight, an' 'e's 'ad the hiccups ever since!"

Tredegar Show,
November 26th, 1879.

"'E's 'ad the hiccups ever since!"

I do not think there is a man in England who has more at heart than myself the religious education of children. In 1839 the Chartist Riots took place at Newport. In the following year National Schools were opened, and I believe that had the men who took part in these riots received the education imparted at the National Schools they would never have decided upon such a misguided course of action.

Jubilee of Newport National Schools,
May 16th, 1890.

"You need not wear anything."

I was rather alarmed when I received the notice, "Peach Blossom Fancy Dress Fair," and I telegraphed at once to a lady who I thought knew what was going on and asked, "Am I obliged to come in fancy dress?" The answer I got was, "You need not wear anything."

Llangibby Church Fete,
August, 1910.

I generally pay great attention to what a clergyman says, but you cannot always take the advice of a clergyman. A certain man had a dog, and his minister told him that he had better sell the dog and get a pig, to which the man replied, "A pretty fool I should look going rat-catching with a pig."

St. Paul's Garden Fete, Newport,
June 23rd, 1910.

Without some sort of religion no man can be happy.

St. Paul's Garden Fete, Newport,
June 23rd, 1910.

I am not accustomed to begging, being more accustomed to being begged of. That is one of the hereditary privileges of members of the House of Lords.

Meeting in connection with the new Infirmary for Newport,
March 17th, 1897.

It appears to me that my good qualities increase in proportion as the hair comes off the top of my head, and it is well that in proportion as we grow less ornamental we should grow more useful.

Tredegar Show,
November 29th, 1876.

I really think I must be out of place here. You know I am one of the hereditary nonentities. I cannot help the hereditary part of the business, and I have tried all my life to avoid the other.

South Monmouthshire Conservative Association,
December 22nd, 1909.

You ought, of course, to learn something about ancient art, or you will be like a certain Lord Mayor of whom I have heard. One day he received a telegram from some people who were carrying on excavations in Greece, and who had discovered a statue by Phidias. They thought, in common with most foreigners, that the Lord Mayor was the most powerful person in the kingdom—abroad he is supposed to rule the country. Anyway, they sent him a telegram saying "Phidias is recovered." The Lord Mayor wired back that he was pleased to hear it, but that he did not know that Phidias had been unwell.

Art School Prize Distribution, Newport,
December 12th, 1899.

"You can do a man to death
with a piano."

A noted musician, when asked whether he thought it was right to carry out capital punishment, replied: "No; because you can do a man to death with a piano."

At Llandaff,
June 26th, 1900.

I believe I have laid more foundation stones than any other man in England. I have mallets and trowels sufficient to supply, I believe, every Parish Church in the country. They are very handsome and ornamental, and I hope I shall have more of them.

Foundation Stone Laying, St. John's Church, Cardiff,
March 12th, 1889.

"I believe I have laid more foundation stones than any other man in England."

We (agriculturists) are looked upon as a long-suffering and patient race, and some of the manufacturing class think we are fit subjects for bleeding. In fact, it has been said that agriculturists are like their own sheep, inasmuch as they can bear a close shaving without a bleat; whereas the manufacturers are like pigs; only touch their bristles and they will "holler like the devil."

Tredegar Show,
December 17th, 1867.

Lord Rosebery is alternately a menace and a sigh.

Conservative Dinner, Newport,
November 15th, 1895.

We have had an old-fashioned winter, and I do not care if I never see another. The only people, I fancy, who have enjoyed the winter are the doctors and the Press.

Servants' Ball,
January 16th, 1891.

[MEMORIES OF BALACLAVA.]

I consider myself one of the most fortunate men in England to have been one of those spared out of the 600 about whom so much has been said and sung. Although my military career has been brief, I have seen a great deal. I have seen war in all its horrors. It is said to be "an ill wind that blows nobody good"; so it has been with me. I have learned to doubly appreciate home and all its comforts. Before going out to the Crimea I was accustomed to see, on these occasions, farmers looking happy and contented, and I was in the habit of thinking what a great nation England was, and how she flourished in all things; but since the war commenced I have seen the other side of the picture. I have seen an army march into an hostile country, and in the midst of farms flowing with milk and honey, and teeming with corn and every luxury—and there, in a few hours, all was desolation, one stone not being left on another, and the people made slaves to the invaders. How thankful we ought to be that we are not suffering at the hand of an invading army. Now that my military career is at an end I am sure that a great many of you will sympathise with my father, whose anxiety has been very great. We were out during the most dreadful period of the war, and it need not be wondered at that I yielded to the most earnest entreaties of my father to relinquish my connection with the army lest I should bring his grey hairs with sorrow to the grave. My father thought that one such action as I have been in was sufficient to prove the mettle of his son. I will not further enlarge on the horrors and miseries of war. May you never see them as I have done, and may we all meet at this festive board next year.

Newport Agricultural Show,
December 18th, 1855.

I do not intend to say much about Balaclava to-day because you have heard the old story over and over again, and I am too old now to invent stories of Balaclava. On my way down here I stopped to receive a telegram worded in these terms:—"Fifteen survivors of the Balaclava Charge send your lordship hearty congratulations and affectionate remembrances on this day, the 54th anniversary." Well, recollections of a sad event are at any time, of course, unpleasant, but it is particularly sad to think that there are now only 15 survivors remaining out of the Light Brigade of 600. That attenuated number does not include myself, and there are three other officers still alive. You may be pretty confident that of these few survivors there were at least two or three with whom I conversed within a few hours of the Balaclava Charge. You can imagine those conversations. They were not very lively ones. They referred probably to some comrade who had been killed or to the difficulty of filling the place of some officer who had fallen; because when we drew up after the Balaclava Charge I was the officer in command of the decimated regiment. All my superior officers had been either killed or wounded, and I was placed in the difficult position to find men suddenly to fill the vacancies. So you can imagine the recollections of those survivors. Since that time there have been a number of gallant deeds on the part of the British army, and I hope that those gallant deeds will be remembered, just as the Balaclava Charge is remembered here. I hope the British nation will never forget such events as Trafalgar and Waterloo, but will always hoist a flag or do something else to commemorate them.

Balaclava Dinner, Bassaleg,
October 25th, 1908.

My own courage in the memorable charge was small, but the deed of daring conferred everlasting credit on the Senior Officers who took part in it. I trust that you will keep your offspring fully acquainted with the heroic deeds of the British Army, and induce them to display similar courage in the hour of their country's danger.

Balaclava Dinner, Castleton,
October 25th, 1890.

When a person gets beyond the allotted age of man there must, I think, be in his mind a melancholy thought regarding the possibility of his being present on a similar occasion twelve months hence. I am afraid that some men of my age would have to limp into a room, probably assisted by a crutch. Fortunately, however, I was able to walk into the room without a crutch and without assistance, and I am thankful for that to the Power above. The term "hero" is a term with which many soldiers do not agree. The mention of the word recalls to my mind the well-known lines of Rudyard Kipling:

"We aren't no thin red 'eroes,
An' we aren't no blackguards, too,
But single men in barracks,
Most remarkable like you."

I am sure the soldiers who fought with the Light Cavalry at Balaclava did not think themselves greater heroes than others in the Crimea who did their duty. Quite recently I read an article in a military magazine, it dealt with the question of the advance of cavalry and the arms which should be given them—the lance, the sword, and the rifle. The article commenced with the statement that it was the business of every soldier to go into action with the determination to try and kill someone. I suppose that is right in its way, but it was hardly the sentiment we went into action with. We went into action to try to defeat the enemy, but the fewer we killed the better. I have to confess that I tried to kill someone, but to this day I congratulate myself on the fact that I do not know whether I succeeded or no. In these days of long range guns our consciences are saved a great deal, and so far as killing anyone goes I always give myself the benefit of the doubt, so that the charge of murder cannot be brought against me.

Balaclava Dinner, Bassaleg,
October 29th, 1910.

[QUIPS AT THE SERVANTS' BALL.]

I have arrived at the age when to clasp the waist of one of the opposite sex for three hours is not considered the height of human happiness. I remember, however, with pleasure, a time in my younger days when I thought it was so, and perhaps some of those who can indulge in a valse without feeling giddy, or a polka without being "blown," think so now.

Servants' Ball,
January 14th, 1889.

"I remember, however,
with pleasure,
a time in my younger days."

I am happy to be able truly and honestly to say that I have not a word of difference with any servant of my establishment. Each year as it rolls onward finds me stiffer in the joints, shorter in the breath, and less able than formerly to perform the double shuffle, but there are others coming on—the younger members of the family—who will be able to kick up their heels as lightly as once I was able to do. As each year rolls round, too, there are always saddening memories, but on an occasion of this sort I will make no allusions to them, ... I hope you will stick to old fashions and old ways. You may be told of new-fangled ways, and be advised to get rid of the old, but I think it will be well if you do not pay too much attention to those advisers. England is like old Tredegar House, and you will find that the customs now prevailing have been in vogue for over 500 years. You will probably be told that the best way to make people happy is to make the poor rich and the rich poor; but, in truth, the richer people are, the better able they are to help the poor.

Servants' Ball,
January 7th, 1910.

Many of you waited last night for the old year to go out and the new year to come in. I did for one. I listened at the window and I heard bells ringing, and noises which I can only describe as hideous. There is an invention in this part of the world, which I believe comes from America (where they have a great many disagreeable things) called a "hooter." When I listened last night it seemed to me that it was deliberately hooting out the old year which to so many of us had painful recollections; and it occurred to me that it was a most appropriate thing to do. It was the wettest spring, the coldest summer, the windiest autumn that I have ever known.

Servants' Ball,
January 1st, 1892.

I can imagine the Bassaleg Parish Council rejoicing in a license for dancing in the hall, and the teetotallers passing a resolution in favour of total abstinence, in which case we should have to obtain our refreshments from the village pump.

Servants' Ball,
January 9th, 1894.

Railways are springing up all round, and, reading the signs of the times as I do, I think there will be increased prosperity. If all the railways now proposed are constructed, we shall be able to paraphrase the poet's lines:—

Railways to right of them,
Railways to left of them,
Railways behind them,
Most of them silly 'uns.
Into the lawyer's jaw,
And the Contractor's paw,
Go the eight millions.

"I shall be able
to convert Tredegar House
into the 'Railway Hotel.'"

I shall be able to convert Tredegar House into the "Railway Hotel," join the Licensed Victuallers' Association, and do a good trade—if I can get a license. We have progressed a good deal lately, even in dancing. I can remember the minuet being the fashion. It was danced with a great deal of bowing and scraping. Then the waltz, quadrille, and lancers came. We next had a kitchen lancers, and this year we have a barn dance. Next year, perhaps, we shall have a pigstye polka, which will no doubt be very amusing.

Servants' Ball,
January 8th, 1896.

There have been many changes in the manners and customs of the country during late years. I am very fond of old customs, and I hope this old-fashioned Servants' Ball will be kept up by those who come after me. I am sure there is no gentleman in England who is blessed with a better lot of servants than I have. If sometimes by my manner I do not appear pleased, I hope you will make allowance for the business anxieties constantly hanging over my head, and which do not always conduce to a pleasant expression. I will relate an incident. An individual who apparently takes a great deal of interest in me wrote to me not so long ago and asked, "Why did you look so proud and haughty when you met me the other day?" I have no recollection of having been proud and haughty, but I have a very distinct recollection of a very tight boot and a very bad corn.

Servants' Ball,
January 8th, 1896.

"When your toe begins
to take a fantastic shape
it is pretty nearly time
to give up dancing."

I always sympathise with you in your sorrows and try to join you in your pleasures. In this life, unfortunately, for a good many, there are more sorrows than pleasures, but I think it is the duty of all who have it in their power to try to make those around them have, if possible, more pleasures in their lives than sorrows. I congratulate myself that I have still a kick left in me. You know that Milton, the poet, has said in two lines:

"Come and trip it as you go
On the light fantastic toe."

but when your toe begins to take a fantastic shape it is pretty nearly time to give up dancing. As my toes are beginning to take that shape, I am afraid I shall not have a kick left much longer. I have always spoken a few words to you on these occasions—sometimes of sentiment, sometimes of politics, and sometimes of fun. I usually prefer fun, because there is generally enough of the other phases around us. I will therefore content myself with giving the establishment a little bit of advice, or rather a hint. I have found that what I say on these occasions has somehow or other found its way into the papers. I do not know exactly how that is. However, I think it will be more impressive in print, because if you forget what I say before the end of the evening, you will be able to read it in the Press next day. My hint is about fires. There are large fireplaces in Tredegar House, which is an old one, full of old oak which is liable to catch fire. During the last few weeks some fine old country houses have been destroyed by fire. I do not think this has occurred through carelessness. I know my servants are not careless. What I want you to understand is the difference between a fire and a furnace. Old Welsh families—and my family is really an old Welsh family—all believe that they have very long pedigrees. There are in the strong room at Tredegar House a great many old records—some of which I have read out of curiosity. Many of them, no doubt, are mythical, and some are accurate, but in all my study of them I have not been able to discover that I bear any relationship to Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego. I therefore fail to see why the household staff should pile up furnaces, especially now that I assure them I am not quite impervious to fire. I always like to entertain you a little on these occasions. I will therefore just sing to you a few lines, and ask Young Charley (the huntsman) to come in at the end. I notice that Old Charley (the former huntsman) is also present, and he, perhaps, will join in as well. His Lordship then sang the following verses to the tune of "Ben Bolt":—

There are soul-stirring sounds in the fiddle and flute
When music begins in the hall,
And a goddess in muslin that's likely to suit
As the mate of your choice for the ball.
But the player may strain every finger in vain
And the fiddler may resin his bow,
Nor fiddle nor string such rapture shall bring
As the sound of the sweet "Tally-ho."

Servants' Ball,
January 11th, 1898.

Times have changed, and fashions change very quickly—so much so that I was half afraid you would have petitioned me to allow you to have a ping-pong tournament. I am glad to see that you still prefer to stick to the old custom of a ball. Of all entertainments a ball is, in my opinion, the most harmless. It will always follow that there will be some who perhaps on the morrow will think that their affections had not been quite under control, and that they had spoken words of endearment that perhaps they regretted, and the lady might not. And perhaps there will always be those whose control over their thirst at a ball is not quite so strong as that of others.

Servants' Ball,
January 3rd, 1902.

"Perhaps there will always be those whose control over their thirst at a ball is not quite so strong as that of others."

I have no doubt that much of what Mr. Perrott has just told you about the revels that have taken place in the hall during the last 200 or 300 years is perfectly true. There may perhaps have been more fun in the old days—that is a matter of history. I very much doubt it myself, and I have a sort of idea, and I hope and trust that at the Servants' Ball which still takes place here annually—unless there is some misfortune to prevent it—there is as much fun and revelry as has ever before taken place in this hall. The old lamp hung over your heads belonged to a former Lord Mayor of London—Sir Edward Clark—from whom I inherited some property and plate. That lamp probably hung in the Mansion House in London some two or three hundred years ago, and I have no doubt it has seen some peculiar scenes.

Servants' Ball,
January 8th, 1903.

I also have my little anxieties. I have been hoping and praying that the enemy will not come up the Bristol Channel and land somewhere near here before I have got my Territorial Army into position. At the present moment the Territorial Army in Monmouthshire consists exactly of 17 men, all of whom are officers. So that unless the enemy give us due notice that they are coming here, I am afraid that we shall have to depend principally upon the Tredegar House establishment. I am quite certain that you will all answer my call, the ladies more particularly. I don't care so much about the enemy, whenever he comes, so long as I have the ladies with me.

Servants' Ball,
Jan. 8th, 1908.

"I don't care so much about the enemy,
whenever he comes,
so long as I have the ladies with me."

I take this opportunity of thanking you, and all those in my service who have spent this year together with me, for the happy way in which we have been enabled to pass the whole year together in our mutual admiration for each other. I was going to say affection for each other, and I should like to think so. We are—I propose using a silly phrase to express our relations at Tredegar House—a brotherhood of men. We are here as a brotherhood of men, and a sisterhood of women, and I should like you to look upon me as one of yourselves. It may be, before this time next year, if things go on as they are, that I shall be calling you Comrade Perrot, and you will be calling me Comrade Morgan. Things are going very fast just now, but I think there is a right feeling throughout the country that we are going too fast. It may be that next year, instead of being summoned to the ball here you will be asked to

"Come and trip as you go
To the light fantastic veto,"

and we shall be invited to dance the Referendum Lancers.

Servants' Ball,
January 17th, 1911.

"I shall be calling you Comrade Perrot, and you will be calling me Comrade Morgan."

[ON ARCHBISHOPS AND BISHOPS.]

It is customary among certain classes to look upon Bishops as men living in beautiful palaces, faring sumptuously, and rolling about in carriages; but there is no ploughman who does a harder day's work than does our Bishop. As to the clergy, many of them labour amongst us for a stipend which many an artizan would despise.

Bassaleg Farmers' Dinner,
October 13th, 1881.

There is a certain class of advanced politicians who never lose an opportunity of serving their own ends by impressing upon their hearers their particular notions of what a Bishop of the Church of England is like. That dignitary is generally pictured as a gentleman who receives a large salary, is clothed in purple and fine linen, fares sumptuously every day, and lives in luxurious idleness.

The Opening of the Seamen's Mission Church, Newport,
January 18th, 1887.

We should remember the duties and responsibilities which rest on an Archbishop. He has a vast correspondence, in which there is not a single letter that he can write without weighing every word. He is not like ordinary people, who are able to scribble off their correspondence; for if a word in a letter from an Archbishop is in the wrong place, it may upset a college or cause a revolution. If you study the history of the Archbishopric of Canterbury, beginning with St. Augustine, then going on to Lanfranc, to Anselm, to Theodore, and down to Benson and Temple, you will, I believe, come to the conclusion that I have reached—that whilst many of the men who have gone before him have filled great parts in making the history of the nation, there is not one whose character, whose powers of speech, and whose earnestness in carrying out his duties, exceeded those of the present Archbishop (Dr. Temple).

Seventy-fifth Anniversary of St. David's College, Lampeter
October 9th, 1902.

"There is not one whose character, and whose powers of speech exceeded those of the present Archbishop (Dr. Temple)."

[THE TRIALS OF THE CLERGY.]

Bishops and Clergy have to deal with all sorts of communications from parishioners. I remember one case where a clergyman received a letter telling him he would never do for St. Phillip's because he was altogether too quiet in his preaching, and not half sensational enough, but that if he would preach in a red coat in the morning, and with no coat at all at night, he would be just the man for the job. As to the Bishops, they have so much to do that one of them—Bishop Magee, of Peterborough, I believe—summed up the situation by saying that people seemed to have an idea that a Bishop had nothing to do but sit in his library with the windows open, so that every jackass might put in his head and bray.

Church Luncheon, Newport,
May 16th, 1900.

[SERMONS AND SINNERS.]

If the clergy only preached as well as they might, there ought not to be a single sinner in their parishes.

Licensed Victuallers' Dinner, Newport,
February 7th, 1889.

[THE OLD PARISH CHURCH.]

"Godfrey Charles Morgan
was baptised here
on May 4th, 1828."

I believe that all classes, including the Nonconformists, have a real love for the old Parish Church and its grey tower, beneath the shade of which so many of their ancestors are laid. Here at Michaelston-y-Vedw we have a fine historic building, erected about 1130. I may tell you that one of its old parish registers contains an interesting entry. It is that "Godfrey Charles Morgan was baptised here on May 4th, 1828."

Eisteddfod, Cefn-Mably,
September 15th, 1897.

I always take more interest in these historical little rural parish churches than I do in a brand new Church erected in some populous district. Of course, the Church is really more necessary there than among the small Communities; still, there is the sentiment, the old association of the old Parish Church and the churchyard in which "the rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep." Those lines of the poet Gray:

"The cock's shrill clarion, nor the echoing horn,
No more shall raise him from his lonely bed,"

often strike me, because the little Church is so closely connected with the Llangibby family. The Llangibby and Morgan families have been associated very often before in the long vista of history, but you have amongst you now a relation of mine, come to live amongst you, and who will look after this little Church.

[RELIGIOUS TOLERANCE.]

It is possible that I am very tolerant in my religious opinions. But seeing that we are now living under perfect tolerance, and that the religious wants of the people must be supplied, I think it is the duty of those who own property to see that there is accommodation for the religious needs of all who live thereon. As science advances there must be considerable differences of opinion on religion in a large and important town like Cardiff. A great man once said that tolerance was simply indifference; I do not agree with him. I think it is possible to be tolerant without being indifferent to one's own opinions. There is a great leaning nowadays towards scientific religion. Education is advancing very rapidly, and philosophical men are trying to make reasons for every line in Scripture and every line in the Prayer Book. That may be useful in a way, but I cannot help thinking that many books written lately by men who are very learned, and with very good intent, will, if circulated among the young of the country, do a great deal of harm. I look forward to an increase of religious feeling throughout the country, and I shall be always ready to assist, as far as I can, in erecting chapels and other places for religious instruction and religious worship.

Chapel, Cardiff,
September 14th, 1894.

"But I am afraid that
some of us would rather
be seen with our hands in
somebody else's pocket
than kneel down
and say our prayers
in the Club-room."

I have never posed as one made of that stuff of which martyrs are made—and perhaps my remarks may offend some, or scandalize others. But I would rather see any place of worship in the town than none at all, I will go so far as to say I would rather see a Mohammedan mosque in the town than no place of worship at all. I have the greatest possible admiration for faith of any sort. Early in my life I had occasion to look with admiration upon the faith even of a Mohammedan. I have listened to the minister of the mosque calling the faithful to prayers two, three or more times a day, and I have seen the Mohammedans in the street go down on their knees and say their prayers in front of everybody. I have seen a regiment of Mohammedans on the march, and at the hour of sunset every man in the regiment would kneel on his carpet and say his prayers. Those were soldiers who were not afraid of their faith, though it might have been the wrong one. I have watched a poor Italian peasant kneel on the roadside and offer his small tribute to the shrine. He was not afraid of praying before anybody; but I am afraid that some of us would rather be seen with our hands in somebody else's pocket than kneel down and say our prayers in the Club-room.

Foundation-stone Laying at Baptist Church, Cardiff,
June 14th, 1894.

[THE CRICKETER CURATE.]

"We don't care much about the preaching
but what we want in the Curate
is a good break to the off."

Cricket is the nicest, best and most gentlemanly exercise in Great Britain. How general is the love of cricket is shown by the story of some parishioners who, when asked by their Vicar what sort of a Curate they would like, said:—"We don't care much about the preaching, but what we want in the Curate is a good break to the off."

[THE BROTHERHOOD OF MAN.]

I think you are quite right in commencing with a religious service a ceremony such as I am about to perform. These institutions are established for the welfare of the inhabitants, and we begin with a religious service in order to impress on those who are going to use the Hall hereafter that, whatever is done inside the Hall should be done in a way which is really a Christian way. It will not affect in any way the feelings of those who attend for amusement or instruction, except to prompt a religious feeling which we all wish to have some time or other in our lives. I was very pleased to be able to come to-day and perform the opening ceremony. A little pressure was put on me because at my time of life you don't recover from any extra exertion.

I do like this term of Brotherhood. Those who have arrived at my time of life know what it is to have and to value a really sympathising brother. I am referring to my own dear brother, who has recently left us. Throughout our lives we did not have a single word of difference or a thought of difference, and the word "Brother" will draw me out at any time. It is the idea of universal feeling that everybody is trying his or her best in this world in whatever he or she may be trying to do—it is the feeling of Brotherhood which helps us to get that feeling.

Speech at the Victoria Brotherhood, Newport,
March 4th, 1910.

[THE USES OF THE PARISH ROOM.]

"The Ploughman returning
from his weary work
may just scrape
his boots outside."

In olden days the ordinary village school was the only place available for meetings or for general gatherings of the parishioners, and a long time ago that did very well. But the advance of education is tending to interfere a good deal with our old ideas and places, and it is now almost necessary that every Church, or every parish, should have a clubroom—a room where all classes can mix together and improve the knowledge they have gained at the various county schools—intermediate or otherwise. We want the Parish Room to be open to everyone. The ploughman returning from his weary work may just scrape his boots outside, and he will be perfectly welcome any time he likes to come in. I am sure there is a great deal of learning to be acquired, a great deal of good to be done, a great deal of instruction to be gathered, in a Church Room of this description, when it is managed in the way it ought to be. As you know, there are certain superior people who like essays and that sort of thing, and who, are inclined to sneer at the village concerts and penny readings and little dances which are likely to take place here. But we do not all possess the wisdom of Socrates, the dignity of Pliny, or the wit of Horace. Perhaps I shall put it more plainly if I say we do not possess the wisdom of Shakespeare, the dignity of Wordsworth, or the wit of Byron. But there is quite likely to be as much good sense in a humble gathering of an evening here as amongst those superior people who always try to teach us by telling us what we ought to do, what to think about, and what we ought to remember. Those are the people who advertise the simple life. I fancy most of you are living fairly simple lives, whilst those gentlemen who advocate it so much do not know what the simple life means. Not very far from us is where "the rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep," and in Gray's beautiful Elegy we are told:

"Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid
Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire;
Hands that the rod of Empire might have sway'd,
Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre."

Might not some of those who are laid in the Churchyard close by, if they had enjoyed the advantages we have, have "wakened to ecstasy the living lyre," or been great members of either parish councils or county councils, or even Members of Parliament! I think that before this room has been in existence many years we shall find that some of those attending the gatherings which I hope will take place here, have done their best to make themselves prominent in life, especially in trying to keep before the world the truths of that religion which we have thought so much of and heard so much of to-day.

Opening of Church-room at Llanvaches,
February, 1909.

[GENTLE MANNERS.]

There is one great thing that will carry you comfortably through life, and that is a nice, gentle manner. I see you all have nice, gentle manners, and what I ask you to do is to carry them outside the school, and retain them when you are on the roads or in the fields, or in your own homes. I ask the boys to cultivate the same language outside as inside the school, and the girls the same manners.

School Prize Distribution, Rhiwderin,
April 24th, 1891.

Bad language is unnecessary. Bad words are used by some people in every other sentence, without any necessity at all, and they mean nothing. If you can only learn to drop those disagreeable words you will be much more pleasant members of society. I like to see boys lively, spirited, and anxious to amuse themselves whenever they can. But they should be kind and gentle to their mothers and sisters. It is the nature of boys to be tyrannical to the other sex, but they will lose nothing by being as kind and gentle as they can be.

Boys' Brigade Inspection, Newport,
April 19th, 1894.

"It is the nature of boys to be tyrannical to the other sex."

It has been well said that good manners are something to everybody, and everything to somebody. Some people will not take anyone into employment unless they have good manners. As an old soldier, I know the value of esprit de corps. A hundred soldiers with the spirit of their corps are worth two hundred who do not care a straw about the regiment.

Pontywain School,
December 15th, 1909.

Mr. Labouchere has said he would rather have a gentleman of bad morals who voted right, than a gentleman whose morals were right but who voted wrong. Well, I would rather have a gentleman whose manners are good, even though he votes wrong, than one who votes right and whose manners are bad.

Licensed Victuallers' Dinner,
July 13th, 1891.

[REVERENCE FOR RELIGION.]

As I grow older I find that the younger people are the less they like advice, and the less likely they are to take it. But I hope you will henceforth be good citizens of this great country. In your Brigade you are taught to have reverence for religion and respect for authority, which are great principles to get on with.

Boys' Brigade Inspection,
April 4th, 1895.

[THE TEACHING OF REFINEMENT.]

There has been a great deal of talk lately about education. We have had board schools and national schools, and we are now going to have technical schools. But there is one point we have not yet arrived at—the teaching of refinement. I look upon the Eisteddfod as encouraging literature and music and art, as one of the great institutions for the encouragement of refinement in general life. We may become very well educated and very scientific, but unless there is refinement among us in general life, we will naturally tend towards roughness of manners.

Brecon Eisteddfod,
August 18th, 1889.

[IN PRAISE OF HOSPITALS.]

We are met to endeavour to raise sufficient money to erect a hospital or infirmary worthy of the town of Newport. There are two statements nobody can dispute: Newport is a large and yearly increasing seaport, and a town of this magnitude ought not to be without a large and splendid hospital. I am afraid that with many people the idea of a hospital or infirmary does not go further than a small subscription and a few admission tickets to give away. But I wish to explain to the public generally the enormous advantages and the necessity of a good and well-organized hospital in the town. Whatever subscription you give you may be pretty nearly certain that the money will be spent in the right way. All other charities are more or less liable to some sort of imposture, but that is almost impossible with a hospital. I remember, as a soldier in the old days, that there was a certain sort of complaint we used to call malingering. If a man wanted to shirk any duty he pretended to be ill, but was very soon found out by the regimental doctor. So in the same way hospital doctors will soon find out the malingerer. A hospital is a high school of medicine for young doctors, who not only mix with scientific people at the institution, but gain a high moral feeling, so that there is no room for small petty jealousies amongst the medical practitioners. Then look at the injured people carried to the hospital. They have the best of care, and in most cases are turned out cured, sound and strong. If it were not for the hospital, they would probably be cripples or invalids for life. In that way hospitals save the rates. I am sure that hundreds are yearly turned out of the infirmary sound in mind and body, able to support their families and keep them off the rates.

Then, again, a hospital makes an excellent school for nurses. That is one of the greatest benefits possible, because the authorities of the hospital are always strictly careful that nurses, before they are sent out, are thoroughly proficient. I am sure no building ground or house, or any other little present I may have given in the course of my life, will be more useful than the land I have given for this site. I hope, in addition to the land, to be able to give a good sum of money if I see it is required.

Meeting in connection with a new Infirmary for Newport,
March 11th, 1896.

[WHEN IS A HOSPITAL A SUCCESS.]

This toast has always appeared to me very difficult to word. I do not know whether success to the Infirmary means a full Infirmary with all the wards engaged. It reminds me of a celebrated American who, when asked what sort of a town he had just left, remarked that it was very flourishing, for every hospital was crammed, every workhouse was too full, and they were about to build another wing to the gaol.

Cardiff Infirmary,
January 25th, 1911.

[RECLAIM THE STREET URCHIN.]

"The stone that is fit
for the wall should not
be allowed to lay
in the way."

The Arabians have a proverb to the effect that "The stone that is fit for the wall should not be allowed to lay in the way." Amongst the children who wander about the streets there are many who are, so to speak, quite "fit for the wall"—that is to say, they may, through being brought under drill and other conditions found in the Brigade, be turned into respectable members of Society.

Bazaar at Cardiff,
April 13th, 1898.

[THE INFLUENCE OF WOMEN.]

"Broke the engagement off
because the young man said
he had never heard
of Browning."

Women exercise a great deal of influence upon the affairs of the country, even without taking part in business, politics, or anything of that sort. For all I know, there may be some girls here who will affect political and many other movements in connection with the welfare of the nation. Girls ought to be made to think that they will have great power in the future, and to realise that they may be able to influence some one for good, not by their great learning so much as by the power that a good girl or a good woman exercises over men. I heard the other day of a young lady who was engaged to be married, but who broke off the engagement because the young man said he had never heard of Browning. I am glad to be able to tell you that she thought better of it afterwards.... It was said of the great Queen Cleopatra that when the Roman Emperor fell in love with her she was the means of altering the history of the world. Some say that if Cleopatra's nose had been shorter, the face of the world would have been different. The fate of some young men may depend upon the noses, as well as upon the learning, of some of the girls present.

Re-opening of Howell's School, Llandaff,
June 26th, 1900.

[A FRIEND FOR THE FRIENDLESS.]

There cannot possibly be an object in the wide world more worthy of sympathy than a girl without a friend. All over the world this Society has its habitations, and it has already befriended 4,000 girls. It renders assistance when they are penniless, provides friends when they are friendless, and religious consolation when they require it.

Girls' Friendly Society Bazaar, Newport,
April 24th, 1895.

[THE BRAVERY OF THE WORKERS.]

I think it is my duty to allude to the dreadful accident which took place in July at the dock extension works. The facts stated in the report should be printed and go, not only to the Shareholders, but to the country generally, as a record of the heroism and endurance that our workers, from the highest engineer to the lowliest navvy, were capable of under distressing and dreadful circumstances. We hear so much of the decadence of the English race nowadays, that I think the report of the disaster at the docks is well worthy of being printed.

Half-yearly Meeting Alexandra (Newport and South Wales)
Docks and Railway Coy., London,
August 5th, 1909.

I have always admired the working collier, and if British records could be printed thousands of colliers would be found as much entitled to the Victoria Cross as those soldiers who have performed doughty deeds on the battlefield.

Workmen's Outing at Tredegar Park,
August 8th, 1885.

In the old Town Hall of Newport many great celebrities have received testimonials, compliments and honours—warriors, church dignitaries, financiers and great politicians; but I do not think any circumstance like the present one has arisen before, and there could not be a more interesting ceremony than that which we are about to perform. It is necessary to make a slight excuse for the time which has expired since the great disaster on July 2nd, 1909. Those who remember the incidents know perfectly well that the whole of the dock premises and the town were in a state of excitement for some considerable period, and a large number of unfortunate men were overwhelmed by the disaster, while others fortunately escaped. I think the officials have done their very best to try and select those who really performed heroic efforts. Those who have not received recognition, but think they deserve it, will, I feel sure, make all due allowance, and give those responsible the credit for having done their best. It is satisfactory to the directors to know that they have a body of men around them who are ready to do their duty. It is a trait of the educated British workman of to-day that, when given something useful to do, he will perform his task heroically—heroism is characteristic of him.

Presentation of Certificates for Bravery on the occasion
of the Dock disaster, Newport Town Hall,
March 14th, 1911.

[A TRIBUTE TO THE ENGINE DRIVER.]

"The feeling of a Newport cabman when his horse runs away."

I have the greatest admiration for engine drivers, particularly those on the Great Western Railway, on which line I travel most. I have often wondered at the admirable manner in which they stop and start their trains. Mr. Gladstone once said that he could understand the mind of a great historian like Gibbon, or of a great poet, like Milton, Byron, or Wordsworth, but that he could not understand the formation of the mind of a man who wrote poems and plays like Shakespeare. Personally, I cannot understand the mind of an engine driver on an express train. I have been myself, in some very disagreeable positions, and have had some very nasty half minutes. Not very long ago I found myself underneath my horse in a muddy ditch and the half minutes I spent in waiting for a friendly hand to drag me out, and in wondering whether assistance would come before I was suffocated, were very unpleasant ones. Only a fortnight ago, too, a gentleman was driving me in a light vehicle down a narrow roadway when we saw a runaway horse attached to a lorry galloping towards us. It seemed as if there was nothing for it but for us to be knocked into the proverbial cocked-hat. However, our vehicle was drawn very close to the side and the runaway just cleared us. I can understand, too, the feeling of a man driving four horses when they run away with him, because that has happened to myself; or the feeling of a Newport cabman when his horse runs away. But I cannot understand the feeling of sustained courage on the part of a driver of an express engine with his train going at 60 miles an hour through the darkness of the night, perhaps in a storm of snow or sleet. To use a pretty strong expression, it must be like "hell with the lid off." Those who travel on railways ought to think more of the responsibilities which rest on railway employees.

Railwaymen's Dinner,
April 21st, 1908.

[TEMPERANCE "IN ALL THINGS."]

"There are many Radicals
who take a great deal
more than they can carry."

When I talk of temperance I mean temperance not only in drink, but in all things. There is temperance in eating, and temperance in life. In the present case there are three sections—the temperance people, the Sunday closing people, and the total abstinence people. I cannot see how the question of religion can enter into party politics. I have known many Tories who were habitual drunkards, and there are many Radicals who take a great deal more than they can carry. There is always a difficulty in drawing the line between the enthusiast and the fanatic. Enthusiastic gentlemen generally get what they require. Fanatics, on the other hand, by the way they advocate their principles, turn people away.

Opening of the new Temperance Hall, Newport,
May 2nd, 1889.

I believe that if the medical men of the country published their opinions concerning the cases which come under their notice, it would be a revelation to the general public how great a proportion of illness is due in one way or another to alcoholic drink. I cannot, however, help noticing that a great improvement and advance has taken place in the cause of temperance. A good many years ago, when there was going to be a great family festival—a wedding or something of that sort—one of the family retainers was asked if he was going to be there. "Of course," was his reply, "and won't I just get drunk." That seemed to be the prevailing idea of enjoyment—to get drunk. But that attitude has been changed.

Band of Hope Festival, Newport,
May 3rd, 1900.

"Coming out and making themselves
disagreeable to their neighbours."

I have no doubt there are several in the hall who, like myself, are not total abstainers, but we are all one in our endeavour to promote temperance generally. To those who cannot be temperate, we advise total abstinence. There is nothing, I am sure, so fruitful of good as the advocacy of temperance amongst children. When children are taught to advocate a particular cause they do it more effectively than older people. But we are sometimes apt to become too much imbued with one particular idea, and it is never well to be too much of a bore to those around us. A little child was asked not long ago what she knew about King John and Runnymede. She had evidently been a worker in the temperance cause, and replied, "Oh, yes; he's the man they got down to Runnymede and made him swear to take the pledge." She had forgotten about Magna Charta, and thought of only one kind of pledge. There is nothing that disturbs the general happiness and comfort so much as the action of those who persist in going into a public house when they need not do so, and coming out and making themselves disagreeable to their neighbours. I only hope that some of the younger portion of you will live to enjoy a Bank Holiday without seeing a single drunken person.

Band of Hope Union, Newport,
May 29th, 1901.

[TOTAL ABSTINENCE.]

There is a rule in the Boys' Brigade according to which you are supposed to be abstainers from drink. I need not say what a good thing that is. You will all be very much better for being abstainers. You will save a great deal of money, and probably keep your health up better. I wish I had been a total abstainer in my youth. I should have saved a great deal of money.

Boys' Brigade Inspection, Newport,
April 19th, 1894.

[AN ANGELIC VISION.]

"He's retired, he's living the life of a hangel."

There is a phrase about "the happiness of the greatest number." It is an expressive phrase, but different people have different opinions of happiness. I was hunting in the Midland Counties and I asked, "Where is Tom?" The answer was, "He's retired, he's living the life of a hangel; he's a-heating, and a-drinking and a-cussing, and a-swearing all day long." That may not be your idea of the life of an angel, if it was my friend's idea.

The Tredegar Show,
December 18th, 1872.

[CHATS TO AND ABOUT CABBIES.]

"Prepared to go the pace according to the fare they expected at the end of the journey."

I have had many rides in the cabs of Newport, and have always found the cabbies very good drivers, prepared to go the pace according to the fare they expected at the end of the journey.

Cabmen's Dinner, Newport,
November 8th, 1889.

"You try to blow me up
on my way to Tredegar House."

I wish you had chosen some other Patron Saint than Guy Fawkes, for Guy Fawkes tried to blow up the House of Lords, and on each anniversary you try to blow me up on my way to Tredegar House. Some persons may think that one Conservative Peer more or less does not matter, but I prefer that the experiment of blowing up should be tried upon the body of a Radical Peer.

Cabmen's Dinner, Newport,
Nov 5th, 1896.

"Look here, cut it short guv'nor!
I've got the cab by the hour."

There are very odd traditions about cabmen, and I am certain that sometimes they are not deserved. I have been told it is something of a tradition that it is the pride of a cabman to be able to whistle louder, to hit his horse harder, and to tell a bigger lie than anybody else. I believe that to be absolutely untrue, though some of you may know better than I do. One of you is supposed to have nearly upset a wedding. That was a dreadful thing to do. The bride and bridegroom were both at the Altar and just about to have the knot tied nicely. The clergyman began to deliver his address, but the bridegroom appeared to be in a great hurry, and said to the clergyman, "Look here, cut it short, guv'nor! I've got the cab by the hour." That was rather natural on the part of the bridegroom but the clergyman became very angry, and very nearly threw up the case....

"Look here, Mr. Huddleston, I call you a thief, a blackguard, a scoundrel, and a villain."

Cabmen are limited in the language they may use. Judge Huddleston, when a barrister, was defending a client against a cabman, who had been using very bad language. The advocacy of Huddleston won the case. The next day the cabman called upon him and said: "Look here, Mr. Huddleston, you told me yesterday that I must not call people so and so. What are your charges for telling me what I can call anyone without getting into trouble?" Mr. Huddleston named his fee, cabby paid the money, and inquired what names he might call a man with impunity. Mr. Huddleston referred to his law books, and replied: "This is what you may call a man without being had up for libel or defamation of character. You may call him a villain, a scoundrel, a blackguard, and a thief, always supposing you don't accuse him of having stolen anything." The cabby took up his hat and said: "Look here, Mr. Huddleston, I call you a thief, a blackguard, a scoundrel and a villain; not that I mean to say you ever stole anything. Good morning." So you know now exactly what you can call a man if you do not like the fare he gives you. At the same time, I do not believe you would say such things.

"That's where Lord Tredegar buried his charger; he made that mound himself."

Then, again, a cabman is always supposed to be a driving encyclopedia. When Newport cabmen are driving along Caerleon Road or Chepstow Road, credulous individuals ask them the name of every house and place they pass, what it means and what it is. Strangers want to know, and you must tell them something. There is an extraordinary tradition about a cabman driving along a road, when a lady fare asked him what "that mountain was with the tump on the top." "But what is the tump for?" persisted the lady. "Oh, that's where Lord Tredegar buried his charger; he made that mound himself," was the reply. Such stories are very interesting and amusing, but they spoil history, and that is why I think we are indebted to cabmen for the extraordinary traditions that go about the country.

Cabmen's Dinner, Newport,
November 5th, 1898.

Cabmen have traditionally bad characters, and are supposed to possess a vocabulary which is not taught in the Intermediate Schools. They are also supposed to have a special method of calculating distances and coin. All those ideas are exploded like nursery rhymes, such as "Whittington and his Cat." Cabmen are well looked after. There is the Excise Officer and the Cruelty to Animals Society, and, if these are not enough, there is the Watch Committee.

Cabmen's Dinner, Newport,
November 6th, 1899.

But the top of a 'bus
Is the place for us
To see the coves go by."

You have to compete with tramcars, motor cars, and all kinds of horrible conveyances. Having been interested in nursery rhymes since I was very young, I have been looking through some children's books during the last few days to see what is provided for the children of these days, and I came across the following lines in a book for children:—

The hansom takes you quickest,
The growler keeps you dry,
But the top of the 'bus
Is the place for us
To see the coves go by.

I advise you not to give that little book to your children, as it will induce them to ride on the top of a 'bus instead of taking a cab.

Cabmen's Dinner, Newport,
November 8th, 1902.

"Fast women and slow horses."

I have never been able to find out exactly why the cabmen's dinner is fixed for Guy Fawkes' Day. I have looked up Guy Fawkes' pedigree, and I cannot find that he ever drove a growler or even a hansom cab. Then I thought it might have something to do with Inkerman Day, which is all upset nowadays, as you know. Inkerman was always called a soldiers' battle, because it was so foggy that the generals could not see what they were doing. I have an idea that it must have been a cabmen's battle, and that it was cabmen who fought at Inkerman or commanded at Inkerman. Speaking of cabmen, I think that they are like Lord Rosebery's Dukes—poor, but honest. This is not an epoch-making dinner; it is not even a record dinner. "Epoch-making" and "record-making" are terms which are frequently used now-a-days, and I wish people would give them a rest for a time. I remember a young gentleman who came into a fortune and very soon got through it because his company was very indifferent, he being very fond of racecourses and other iniquities of that sort. He went through the Bankruptcy Court, and when asked how he accounted for getting rid of his fortune so quickly, he replied, "Fast women and slow horses." Now I think cabmen would probably make a profit out of fast women and slow horses. One of you will take a very fine lady to Caerleon Racecourse next week, and, having a slow horse, will take two hours to do the journey, and charge a two hours' price. But I always like this society for one particular reason, namely, it has no small societies belonging to it. There is no Cabmen's Football Club to write and ask you for a subscription. So far as I know, there is no cabmen's band, or other small institutions of which we have so many in every other circle of society. There is no cabmen's congress, and no cabmen's conferences and that is a great merit in the society, because I know that when I have done one thing, I have done all that I shall be required to do.

Cabmen's Dinner,
November 5th, 1909.

[TALKS TO LICENSED VICTUALLERS.]

Although the devil is not as black as he is painted, I hope neither I nor any other gentleman present bears any resemblance to his Satanic Majesty. The Scythians, it is reported, first debated things when drunk, and then whilst sober, and perhaps at the end of this gathering I may be able to form a better opinion of the members of the Newport Corporation.