About three miles from here, in the north-west part of the valley, is an old edifice.

It is now a farm-house, but was once a splendid abbey, and was called--" "The abbey of the vale of the cross," said I, "I have read a deal about it.

Iolo Goch, the bard of your celebrated hero, Owen Glendower, was buried somewhere in its precincts." We went on: my companion took me over a stile behind the house which he had pointed out, and along a path through hazel coppices.

After a little time I inquired whether there were any Papists in Llangollen.
"No," said he, "there is not one of that family at Llangollen, but I believe there are some in Flintshire, at a place called Holywell, where there is a pool or fountain, the waters of which it is said they worship." "And so they do," said I, "true to the old Indian superstition, of which their religion is nothing but a modification.

The Indians and sepoys worship stocks and stones, and the river Ganges, and our Papists worship stocks and stones, holy wells and fountains." He put some questions to me about the origin of nuns and friars.