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and the historic associations of that border land wherein our Ladies’ Day was 
spent. But to what purpose? Those who were present are not likely to have so 
soon forgotten its charms, and to those who were absent no words of mine could 
reproduce the scene or compensate them for what they lost. Some slight sketch of 
the past history of Skenfrith and Grosmont—the two old castles within whose 
ruined walls we stood—I attempted to give when on the spot, and this—in perhaps 
a revised form—will duly appear in the Transactions of the year, and I trust may 
stimulate others to “‘ramble beyond railways,” and search for themselves among 
the nooks and corners of neglected history. 
On the 10th of August our Club, like the witches in Macbeth, “met again in 
thunder, lightning, and in rain” at Brecon. Thisis our usual fate there; and, rendered 
prudent by past experiences, we confined ourselves on this occasion wholly to the 
town. There is certainly enough there to afford very pleasant occupation for a 
day, and I am sure that many others besides your President were glad to renew and 
extend their acquaintance with a place so full of interest. The grand old Priory 
Church, which, at our last visit, was in the hands of workmen and choked with 
scaffolding and ladders, could now be seen to the best advantage, and in the survey 
made of it we had the benefit of Mr. Garnons Williams’ able guidance. The 
beauty and grace of the Early English presbytery are almost without parallel in 
South Wales, and contrasts in a very marked way with the vast octagonal piers 
and broad arches of the nave. The Norman font with its quaint carvings, the 
curious sculptured slab with figures in bold relief adorning the Holy Rood, the 
numerous monumental slabs which meet one’s eye at every turn combine to render 
the Priory Church a fabric of unusual interest, and well fitted to become—as I 
hope some day it may be—the seat of a new Bishopric. I can but allude to the 
College Church—a chancel of which has been lately restored—it forms an elegant 
example of the First Pointed style, within the walls of which many of the Bishops 
of St. David lie, and chief among them Dr. George Bull, the most learned of 
Bishop Thirlwall’s predecessors. 
But I must pass on to what has now become the great event of the Wool- 
hopean year, viz., the Fungus Foray. And here I must humbly confess that the 
subject is one to which I can do but scanty justice. My ignorance prevents me 
from discussing its scientific side as well as from enjoying many of those delicacies 
which mycologists are thought to have added to our national cuisine. Yet if Iam 
to speak on the subject, aad to speak the truth, I would dare to hint—even before 
such an audience—that the economic value of funguses has been a little over-rated. 
I speak without prejudice, for I am always ready, in faith, hope, and charity, to 
partake of any mushrooms which come before me with a good character. But 
hitherto I have tasted nothing equal to the common mushroom (Agaricus cam 
pestries), and it is scarcely fair to say that that species meets with any neglect in 
this country. Most of the other esculent fungi are either very local, very short 
lived, or occur in insufficient quantities to make them important as articles of 
food. Of course there is something very attractive in the belief that mycology will 
teach us how to gather in the woods and fields beefstakes, omelettes, oysters, and 
sweetbreads a discretion. The great meat difficulty seems to be solved at once; our 
