The first stratum being thus laid, you have now to fill the pit up level with the surrounding ground with a compost, consisting of equal quantities of wood, or forest soil, and of oak leaves gathered after the fall of the leaf, adding to this about a fourth part of pure unmixed cow-dung, mixing up the whole well together, and stirring it frequently until the different ingredients become completely amalgamated. The bed thus formed must then be completely strewed to the thickness of six inches with oak leaves, and the whole covered with branches of the oak tree, to prevent the leaves from being blown away by the high winds. These leaves will produce the decided effect, by impregnating the compost underneath, by their decomposition during the winter, with those peculiar elements necessary to the production of truffles; therefore, they must be renewed every autumn at the fall of the leaf.

In one of the first fine days in the following spring, it will be necessary to take off the upper superficies of oak leaves, which will be absolutely dried and withered, and then to mix up the under ones, which will be found moist and humid, by means of a rake, with the compost underneath.

The truffle-bed being thus carefully prepared, you may be sure. it is in a fit condition to receive the young tubers, which are now to be sought for.

The truffle is infinitely more delicate than the mushroom, and therefore requires much greater care and attention; but it is satisfactory to learn, that if proper precautions are taken, it may be transplanted and propagated; and, moreover, that when once fixed, it becomes so tenaciously attached to the soil, as to adhere and continue in it for a great number of years, without any artificial renewal, so as to furnish not only an abundant harvest for the planter's own supply, but to produce him a very considerable annual revenue, to reward him for the trouble he has taken.

Dead truffles are incapable of reproduction. It is the living truffle alone that can operate this miracle, and that only in a soil congenial to it, for surely the difficulty is not little thus to force nature in spots where truffles never grew before.

If, indeed, truffles can be found any where near the artificial truffle, there will be little difficulty, but, if they are to be brought from a distance, very great precautions must be taken to prevent their dying in the carriage. They may always be procured in France. The selections of roots for transplanting should not be made from the full-grown truffles, but from those which have not yet reached their maturity, as less likely to perish in the transport. A want of attention to this has caused many failures. We should be careful, therefore, to select the middle-sized roots, not too young nor too old, but in full health and vigour; and it will be very easy to procure a sufficient quantity of these from the spots where they grow naturally, either in England or in France. They

should be taken up out of their native soil on a rainy day, or at least when the ground is moist, with a small portion of their earth round their roots, and, exposing them as little as possible to the action of the air, you immediately place them in the box or case prepared for their reception, filling up the interstices, and covering the whole with a portion of the same earth from out which they were taken. They must now be transported as expeditiously as possible to the truffle-bed where they are to be planted, taking care, however, to open the box every two or three days to give them air, and to moisten them with river water. In this manner they may safely be conveyed to a considerable distance.

The cases, when they reach the place of their destination, must be opened in the shade, and, taking care to moisten the bed, if found at all dry, you plant the truffle roots in it as quickly as possible, about three inches under the soil, and in clusters together, that they may the more strongly impregnate the prepared compost with their re-productive elements, as the planting of isolated roots at a distance from each other has been often known to fail.

The spring and the beginning of autumn are the most favorable seasons for the transplantation of truffles, because it is at these periods of the year that the best roots for transplanting are to be found in the places of their natural growth.

In the first year after their transplantation their re-production will not be considerable. If planted in the spring, there will be found, however, the following autumn, some young truffles about the size of a nut or walnut, with a yellow skin, and a spongy consistency, which must be left another year, to complete their growth, but their appearance will afford a satisfactory proof of the success of the plantation, and present the gratifying assurance of abundant future crops for years to come.

Our limited space will not allow us to enter into a more ample detail, but we have said enough to indicate the assured means of raising truffles by artificial culture. The principal point, it will have been perceived, is to saturate the prepared soil as completely as possible with the peculiar properties of the oak, and which we have therefore called quercine matter.

The calcareous and ferruginous nature of the soil in a great part of Wales, the genial moisture of her climate, and the felicitous position of her Llwyns and Cwms, which abound with oak, seem to render the Principality a country peculiarly appropriate for the culture of this new article of home production, and it was principally from these considerations that this horticultural dissertation has been deemed not unsuitable to the pages of the Cambrian Quarterly Magazine.

W.

THE WHISTLERS.

[THERE is a belief, prevalent among the inhabitants of North Wales, that the cry of the golden plovers, or (as the peasants term them) "the whistlers," foretells the death of some near friend or relative of the person who hears it.]

THERE comes a fearful sound at eve, o'er many a sleeping vale,

It thrills the strong man's heart with dread, and woman's cheek grows pale;
The bolt of heaven, the tempest's wrath, the torrent sweeping by,
Wake less of awe in Gwynedd's breast, than doth that plaintive cry.
The youthful peasant bounding on, along his mountain way,
And cheering still the lonely path with some wild ancient lay,
Hushes his song, and stays his step, and prisons in his breath,
Too well his heart that warning knows-the whistlers' note of death.
He strains his gaze, to mark the spot where his lone mother dwells,
And deems that e'en yon curling smoke a tale of comfort tells;
Yet sighs to think how soon those eyes, alas! already dim,
May cease to tend the fire, and watch thro' the long night for him.
And now, around an ancient hall, the gloomy wand'rer flits,
Where, circled by a fairy group, a widowed mother sits;
She hears, and o'er her children flings a glance of shudd 'ring dread,
Trembling to see some fair bud droop, some flow'ret hang its head.
Yon orphan maid the cry has heard, and oh! what terrors press
Around the pale girl's sinking heart, in its still loneliness;

The work has left those quiv'ring hands, now wildly clasp'd to pray;
She has a lover in the wars,-a brother far away.

Oh! bear thou hence thy boding cry, thou evil omened bird;

There's woe, deep woe, for human love, where that thrill wail is heard;
Some dear one's knell it seems to ring, in every startled ear,—

Is there, on earth, one lot so dark, that nought is left to fear?

E.

WELSH MOTTO AND TRANSLATION.

By the late EDWARD WILLIAMS, of Glamorgan.

NODDAIS i'mryd yn addwyn

Er yn fab yr awen fwyn,

Yn iâs îr ei naws eirian
Fy myd i gyd oedd y Gân;
I'mhoen fyth! am hyn o fai
Un o'm ceraint ni' m carai.

WARM from a child I lov'd the bardic muse,
My worlds of bliss all center'd in her views;
Sweet fancy revell'd in my thrilling heart;
But this warm passion for the tuneful art

Was deem'd a crime, was mark'd with bitter blame,
Till every friend a ruthless foe became,

NO. XVI.

In the article on Irish Mythology, in your last number, by Sir S. R. Meyrick, a description is given of a Druidical Monument, in the county of Kilkenny, bearing the inscription BELI DIUOSE; and which is adduced by Sir S., as it has been by numbers before him, in support of an hypothesis respecting the worship of Bel, and its concomitant superstitions among the Irish. And, as this alleged ancient inscription, according to the above interpretation, is calculated to mislead, not only as it regards the mythology of the Irish, but the alphabetical characters in use among that people, it may not be unserviceable to state that the whole affair is one of the veriest deceptions in existence, and, even unintentional as it must originally have been, may now be placed upon an equality with the best and most successful antiquarian hoax ever practised. For this sacred and so highly venerated inscription of BELI DIUOSE, is nothing more or less than the name of E. CONID 1731, read upside down, who was a cutter of millstones, and a few years ago well remembered in the neighbourhood. And from the nature of the stone," siliceous brescia," or millstone grit, there can be no doubt that, in thus cutting his name upon it, he intended to appropriate it to himself, for the purpose of converting it into a millstone.

It is true that, in reading the name E. CONID 1731 upside down, which it appears was the method adopted by the Irish antiquaries, in order to make Beli Diuose of it, some of the letters will appear reversed, i. e. upside down, which in the uninitiated might have excited some degree of suspicion, and induced them to try how the words would read from the opposite side; but with the more erudite, this was a circumstance calculated more firmly to establish a character of antiquity, as being in accordance with the Etruscan and Phoenician alphabet.

do.

When old NED CONID cut his name upon this stone, he little dreamed that his apotheosis was so near, and that in half a century he was to be numbered among the gods: and if some other antiquarian subjects were examined with greater attention, they might possibly exhibit very different features to what they now And if Sir S. Meyrick would engage in the personal examination of the Round Towers which he refers to, and bring to the undertaking the same tact and discernment which he has evinced in other branches of antiquarian research, I doubt not he would be able to set at rest this so long agitated question respecting these extraordinary buildings, by determining their era and style of architecture, and possibly also the purpose of their

erection

Besides those towers mentioned in Ireland and Scotland, there is one in the centre of Peel Castle, in the Isle of Man, which, as far as I could perceive, differs from the generality of the others only in having a flight of stone steps on the outside, leading to the entrance, and projecting battlements on the top.

There is likewise another at Carriggeen, in the county of Limerick, which is not noticed in Ledwich's catalogue; and in which, although the key-stone of the entrance has slipped a little down out of its place, there is enough to mark an arch of regular masonry, though not perfectly circular: while the windows exhibit curious specimens of a grotesque pointed top on the outside of the ogée character, formed of only two inclining stones, and of the square, tapering, or Egyptian style within. Yours, &c.

August 27, 1832.

WITHES USED INSTEAD OF CORDS OR HARNESS.

WE find withes were used as substitutes for hempen cords in yoking cattle to the plough and to the wain in very ancient times in Wales. The word withe is taken from the Welsh wydd, (pronounced wyth,) which signified trees. This is also very probably the derivation of weeds, since before this country was cleared of its immense forests, trees were only a larger species of weeds, so that wydd and weed were synonymous.

EPITAPH ON A TOMBSTONE, IN TOWYN CHURCH-YARD.

THE person whose virtues it records, was for half a century a gardener, attached to the Ynys-y-maengwyn family.

If honest labour, industry, and truth,

Can claim from righteous heaven a just reward-
Learn, learn, ye Welshmen all, both age and youth,
How poor and patient merit claims regard.
Here lies a man who never swerv'd at all,
His honest heart was only known to few,

His daily labour furnish'd means but small,

His worth too little known-his name IонN HUGH.