Welsh Journals

knack of turning round on their nation and become it» leaders for the rebels of to-day are the leaders of to-morrow. But until they are actually such, no sane person will have anything to do with them cer- tainly no ordinary Welsh M.P., the embodiment of sagacity and humble expectation, would. The future of Wales, however, depends upon the number of its rebels, — spiritual rebels roaming danger- ously free among its hills and mountains, men who would dare all for what they deem to be worth all, namely, faith in a certain sacred mission to be de- livered by them and by their fellows to mankind. The freest souls in Wales to-day are among the youngest generation of preachers and teachers and the earnest young men of the Socialist movement. The mass of the nation is still under the magic spell of the Pied Piper of Hamelin, making straight for the cave. At the last Social Service Conference at Llandrindod I enquired of a young Irishman who had lived for some years in Wales concerning the institution of Dail FJreann. "I I do not want to shock your loyalty as Welshmen for a moment," said he, but the Dail Eireann was for Ireland at first very much what the United School of Social Service is for Wales to-day, with the Black and Tans mounting guard thrown into the bargain to keep us in tune with the Empire. And talking of the genius of your nation, substitute Lleufer Thomas, Gwilym Davies, and Herbert Morgan, for De Valera, Arthur Griffith. and Michael Collins, and you have the nucleus of a Welsh Cabinet as truly represent ad ve of the genius of Wales as the the others are of the spirit of Ireland." And as I wended my way home to my lodgings pondering over what he had said to me, I met a number of old friends, male and female, not a few of them graduates and undergraduates of the Welsh University­the trained youth of Wales, — enjoying a well-deserved holiday. Some had been golfing, some playing tennis, others taking the waters few in comparison had been at that morning's session of the Social Service School, NEW LIFE FOR OUR VILLAGES. IN the summer of 1919 I was asked to deliver fifty lectures to the British troops then stationed in Ireland. Amongst the subjects that most keenly interested these men was that of Village Life." This was proved to the full by the eager discussions which followed that lecture, and the pertinent ques- tions and suggestions put to me by my listeners. At this time, whilst the greater number of those present had seen hard fighting in the Great War, a large proportion of them were raw recruits I had, therefore, the experience of men who knew the villages both before and after the war, and I found all agreed upon the conclusions we arrived at. The men from the trenches, owing to their enlarged outlook abroad, had been shaken out of their old sleepy-hollow ways of thinking, and were eager for a fresher and fuller life when they returned to their old haunts. They bargained for reasonable hours of work, not all-day- where some such subject as the present penal servitude code had been entered into with more or less detail- Dora's last sweet Jullaby, so to speak, a matter of no little significance as I then thought. But suddenly, on the breeze, I caught the strains of a military band somewhere, and forthwith — As I could follow with the eye That joyous crowd- I pictured vividly to myself the streets of Hamelin town, and that hapless, lame, little child who could not follow, and with a genuine touch of Pecksniffian righteousness I thanked God-for the first time in my life, I believe-for my lameness. Then I went on to think again as before. Wales, I said to myself, will draw its political inspiration for the future either from Ireland and the Italy of Mazzini or from Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress. The poets and the seers of the new school, riding on the viewless wings of ecstasy," seem to have as little patience with the pedestrian propagandist of the Labour movement as with the veering politician. The burning words of one of them came fresh to my memory:- Er maith sen Prometheus wyf Awdur pob deffro ydwyf, A'r oes well wrth wawrio sydd Ar dan o'm bri dihenydd." Hark I again heard the strains, and, behold, con- jured up to my mind's view once more the Pied Piper who rid us of the rats. The whole of Wales heard him, and followed him, too. Wales is charmed and is led blindly to the cave!" I screamed hysterically at the passers-by. A host of fiery eyes darted almost through me. A-A-Arthur's cave, I mean I ejaculated as by a flash of genius. Ths glare was instantly unfixed. The joyous crowd passed on, and I hobbled my way back home through a side street as quickly as I could, and kept very quiet for the rest of my holidays. By Alfred Perceval Graves. long agricultural drudgery. They pressed for small holdings of their own, not the now proverbial three acres and a cow," but substantial pieces of ground for those competent to work them. Allotments formed part of their plah, so that those employed on indoor work might be enabled to refresh themselves of an evening in a profitable way. They further asked for organised games for their women folk as well as for themselves. Above all, they insisted on suitable buildings, village halls, in fact, being put up for social recreation-concerts, plays, cinema shows, dances and whist drives. Well, I took all these just demands to heart, and so when I came back from Ireland I gladly accepted an invitation to take a practical part in the movement now known as The Village Clubs Association." For I found that it embraced all the objects so desired by those men from our villages who had saved our