Welsh Journals

are many signs that we are not yet quite willing to face up to that ultimate issue, and I notice that many people, both inside and outside the Churches, are taking refuge from it in a vague kind of mysticism which can only be a base sub- stitute for Christianity whether you give the Barthian or modernist meaning to it. I think I am right in interpreting this as a subconscious shirking of the problem to be solved. Perhaps one ought to say a word or two about the fortunes and misfortunes of church unity in Wales before bringing these fragmentary observ- ations to an end. We are, it is true, dealing with this problem, but only in a superficial way. It is probable that the relations between the different denominations are much healthier and cleaner than they have ever been. I do not myself think that there can be in Wales any question of ecclesias- tical uniformity. There is no desire for it. There is no need for it, and it would not be a good thing, either for Wales or for Christianity, if it came. There is no guarantee that the bigger the YESTERDAY AND TO-DAY IN A BORDER VILLAGE CHANGE comes creeping slow up our valley, imperceptibly slow. Not infrequently in- deed is it met half-way and resisted. This is the case with the English language and it is in- teresting to reflect that Glyn Dwr's insignificant Cynllaith still quite definitely defines the march be- tween English and Welsh. Not that there are not a few outposts on either side of this line. To the- east of the famous brook religious ticularly stretches out its tentacles right on to the Shropshire Plain. A little to the west of the Cyn- llaith on the other hand, English has established itself in one of the border villages, but that is en- tirely due to the influence of the big house. On either side of the valley the Welsh language is as virile as ever among those "highlands" which is the significant name of one of the upland farms that crown the hills which stand sentinel over the Anglicised village. The contrast is significant in many respects. Hard by the Hall is the Parish Church where the Welsh language finds it difficult to survive. It is the church of the squire and the big farmers, with a sprinkling of workmen who find employment on the estate. In the uplands on the other hand we have the smallholders and the squatters, with their Nonconformist chapels and all organisation and the more uniform, therefore the more efficient and more effective for human pur- poses. It is rather the other way round. The real problem is that of effective co-operation for all Christian purposes. For that purpose there are interdenominational committees in existence which ought to be doing much more work than they are in fact doing. My own view, however, is that the work of preparing for genuine and spontaneous co-operation can be and is gradually much more effectively done, not by meetings of the official representatives of the denominations, nor by spasmodic intercommunion, but by the Schools and the Colleges, by the grouping of Theological Col- leges, by the Missionary Societies, by movements like Urdd y Deyrnas and Urdd Gobaith Cymru and by the increasing habit of co-operative theolo- gical thinking and activity. By these means, mainly, we shall one day arrive at that happy stage when we shall naturally be able to appreciate one another's point of view and recognize naturally one another's claims to be real Christian churches, each with its contribution to make to the nation's full life. by Robert Richards the social and cultural activities which have come to be associated with these places. Here we have the literary and dramatic societies, and both ham- lets are noted for their carol singing. In signi- ficant contrast with the upland hamlets the village has been well endowed with a Memorial Hall, a hall which is never used except for whist drives --and dances, save when the hill folk secure it for an occasional concert or dramatic performance. Nor do we confine our resistance to the merely immaterial things. Some years ago a grandiose railway scheme, that had been planned to make its way up our valley and burrow through the hills that separate us from the neighbouring county on its way to distant Porthdinlleyn, lost its way among the meanderings of the lime works at the lower end of the valley. An antiquated assortment of trucks and coaches, incongruously yoked to a con- verted Ford engine, making its way once or twice a day across that No Man's Land that lies between the Welsh border and Salop, is all that remains of that projected scheme. As a result of our resistance to this material change we were one of the last places in Britain to enjoy the benefit of a railway system. This kind of resistance, as a modern poet once said, still goes