SELECTIONS from the POETICAL WORKS & CORRESPONDENCE of the REV. EVAN EVANS, (IEUAN PRYDYDD HIR.)

A PARAPHRASE OF THE 137TH PSALM.

Alluding to the captivity and treatment of the Welsh Bards by King Edward I.

THE PENITENT SHEPHERD.

VERSES

On seeing the Ruins of Ivor Hael’s Palace.

A Letter from Mr. Thomas Carte to the Rev. Evan Evans.

Dear Sir,

I cannot sufficiently acknowledge Sir Thomas Mostyn’s kindness, in the trouble he has taken, of sending up the catalogue of his historical MSS. and in his obliging offer of communicating them to me. Those which I am desirous to see more than the rest, are these, viz.—

“The Annals of the Abbey of Chester, to a.d. 1297.

“Beda de Gestis Anglorum, if it be a different work from his Chronicon and Ecclesiastical History. It is the same.

“History of England, from William the Conqueror to the 6th of Edward the 6th.

“Annales Cambriæ ignoti autoris, et Chronica Cambriæ; both which seem to be in the same volume, which begins with a Welsh history of the Kings of the Britons and Saxons, and Princes of Wales, to the time of Edward 4th.

“A chronology from Vortigern downwards, supposed to be collected by Robert Vaughan, of Hengwrt, Esquire, which seems to be in the volume beginning with Sir John Wynne’s pedigree of the family of Gwydir.

“Treatises concerning the courts of wards and chancery.”

As Sir Thomas proposes to come to town soon, I hope he will be so good as to bring those MSS. with him (as Sir W. W. Wynne will several others, that he has found at Llanvorda) because they will be very useful to me as I conceive, for my first volume.

There are some others I should be glad to look over, but shall have more time for it. Were I on the spot, I should be very curious to consult the MS. of Froissart, though that author’s history, so favourable to the English, is printed. My edition of it is that of Paris, 1520, which I take to be the last of any: but there is a MS. finely wrote and illuminated of this author, in the monastery called Elizabeth, at Breslaw, in Silesia, which contains a third part more than any printed edition. Count Bicklar, a Silesian nobleman, who was at Paris, a.d. 1727, promised me to get a printed edition of Froissart collated with that MS. but he could find no monk in the monastery, or any about the place, capable of doing it. I desired him to buy a MS. that seemeth useless to the convent, at the price of 200 ducats, but my offer made them fancy it the more valuable, and they would not sell it. I have seen a MS. in the king’s library at Paris, and that of the capuchins at Rouen, but they contained no more than my edition: I should be glad to know if Sir Thomas’s does. I gave the Benedictine, who has the care of the new collections of French historians, notice of the MS. at Breslaw, that he might make use of it in his new edition of Froissart; but I have not heard whether he has got the MS. collated, and the supplement copied.

Adredus Rievallensis, Robert of Gloucester, Caradoc of Llancarvan, and Geoffry of Monmouth, are printed; and I have examined several MSS. of the case in the Cotton, Oxford and Cambridge libraries; so are the MSS. of Giraldus Cambrensis; but if Sir Thomas’s MSS. contain more than the printed editions, I shall be extremely glad to see them, as also Trussel’s original of cities, and antiquities of Westminster, as also the digression left out of Milton’s history. The tracts of state in the times of Elizabeth, James I., and Charles I. I shall be very glad to see: but they, as well as some others, I can the better stay for, because they relate to more modern times.

Pray make my humble service and acknowledgments acceptable to Sir Thomas; which will oblige me to be more, if possible, than I am,

Dear Sir,

Your affectionate, and obedient servant, Thos. Carte.

Gray’s Inn, Nov. 14, 1744.

Mr. Lewis Morris to the Rev. Evan Evans.

Dear Bard,

I received your’s last post, without date, with a Cowydd Merch, for which I am very much obliged to you. I cannot see why you should be afraid of that subject being the favourite of your Awen. It is the most copious subject under heaven, and takes in all others; and, for a fruitful fancy, is certainly the best field to play in, during the poet’s tender years. Descriptions of wars, strife, and the blustering part of man’s life, require the greatest ripeness of understanding, and knowledge of the world; and is not to be undertaken but by strong and solid heads, after all the experience they can come at.

Is it not odd, that you will find no mention made of Venus and Cupid amongst our Britons, though they were very well acquainted with the Roman and Greek writers? That god and his mother are implements that modern poets can hardly write a love-poem without them: but the Britons scorned such poor machines. They have their Essyllt, Nyf, Enid, Bronwen, Dwynwen, of their own nation, which excelled all the Roman and Greek goddesses.—I am now, at my leisure hours, collecting the names of these famous men and women, mentioned by our poets, (as Mr. Edward Llwyd once intended,) with a short history of them; as we have in our common Latin dictionaries, of those of the Romans and Grecians. And I find great pleasure in comparing the Triades, Beddau, Milwyr Ynys Prydain, and other old records, with the poets of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries; which is the time when our Britons wrote most and best.

Let me have a short Cowydd from you now and then; and I will send you my observations upon them, which may be of no disservice to you. That sent in your last letter, I here return to you; with a few corrections. It doth not want many: use them, or throw them in the fire, which you please. Do not swallow them without examination. The authority of good poets must determine all.

Y forwyn gynt, fawr iawn gais, Deg aruthr erioed a gerais.

The word Aruthr, though much used, in the sense you take it, seems not proper here; yet Dr. Davies translates it Mirus. I cannot think but the original import of the word is terrible; and they cannot say in English of a woman, she is terribly fair. Rhuthr, from whence Aruthr is compounded, I dare say had that sense, at least:—

“Y cythraul accw ruthrwas.”

W. Lleyn.

Deg wawr erioed a gerais,

may do as well, and sounds better.

A roist ofal i’m calon, A brâth o hiraeth i’m bron: Ni wyr un ar a anwyd A roist o gur, os teg wyd; Enwa anhunedd yn henaint A yr wyn fyth yr un faint.

The first line of the last couplet is too long, and I should write both thus:

Enwa’n hunedd yn henaint E yr wyn fyth yr un faint.

Again:

Cyrchaf, ac ni fynnaf au, I dir angov drwy angau.

The last couplet is a beautiful expression; but it hath too much sweet in it; what our poets call Eisiau Cyfnewid Bogail. Ang, ang, is a fault, which our musicians term too many concords; and therefore they mix discords in music, to make it more agreeable to the ear. So the rhetoricians call the same fault in their science, Caniad y gôg. Therefore, suppose you would turn it thus:

O dîr ing af drwy angau.

Again:

Lle bo dyfnaf yr afon, Ar fy hynt yr af i hon, Oni roi, Gwen eurog wedd, Drwy gariad ryw drugaredd.

Eurog wedd is no great compliment to a fair woman; for Gwen, a Flavia, loves to be called white; and the last line hath gar—gar, therefore I would write thus, or the like:

Oni roi, Gwen îr ei gwedd, Yn gywrain, ryw drugaredd.

But I do not like îr ei gwedd.

Af i graig fwyaf o grêd Y môr, i gael ymwared, Ag o’r graig fawr i’r eigion Dygaf gyrch i dyrch y dòn—

An excellent expression—

Ag o’r dòn egr hyd annwfn Af ar y dafl i fôr dwfn.

Here is a charming opening for you, to describe the country you go to, and the wonders of the deep; and something like the following lines might be inserted:

Lle mae’r morfil friwfil fron, A’r enwog fôrforwynian,

To proceed:

A fynno Gwen ysplennydd Yn ddiau o’m rhwymau ’n rhydd, Ni chaf gur, ni chaf garu Na phoen gwn, na hoffi ’n gu; Ni roddaf gam i dramwy, I gred i’th ymweled mwy: Dyna’r modd dan wir i mi, A dyr unwaith drueni.

The expression Dan wir, is too local, and is not understood all over Wales. Local expressions must be avoided as much as possible. Suppose you said then,

Oni chaf heb warafun Dy fodd fyth difeiwedd fun.

After all these corrections, which are not very material, you have this comfort, (and I mention it that you may not be discouraged,) that I do not know a man in our country who can write a poem which shall want as few corrections. So make poetry and antiquity (when you can come at materials) branches of your study; and, depend upon it, you will make a figure in the world. There are flights and turns in this poem, which even David ab Gwilym would not have been ashamed of.

I would have you write to my brother, and let him know the reason of your not going to London, and that you are alive. If you send him this poem, he will be pleased with it.

Is there any hopes of your seeing the Llyfr Coch o Hergest? Who is keeper, or under-keeper, of Jesus-College Library? And who is principal; and who are the fellows? perhaps I may know some of them; or can make interest some way or other for you to get the use of those MSS.

But it ought to be considered, that you are to mind the main chance of reading the classics, in order to come to a tolerable being, before you launch too far into any other studies; and you must only take a snatch by the bye, which will serve to whet your genius; oblegid mae newid gwaith cystal a gorphwyso.

When you can come at Llyfr Coch o Hergest, or any other ancient MSS., I will send you directions to read it, and understand it: the chief difficulty being in the orthography: the language of all Britain (even Scotland) was the same as it is now in Wales, 1200 years ago.

I wrote to you lately, which I suppose you had not received when you sent your dateless letter. I desire your answer when convenient.

Yours sincerely, Lewis Morris.

Galltvadog, July 14, 1751.

The same to the same.

Dear Evan,

Your letter of the second instant, I received this day; and I was very glad to hear that you had procured leave to go to the private library in Jesus College. It is charming to get into conversation with Llywarch Hen, Aneurin, Merddin, &c. They are most pleasing old companions.

I understand that my copy of Brut y Brenhinoedd is not the same with that in Llyfr Coch o Hergest. Mine was copied out of five MSS. three of them upon vellum, very ancient; but the transcriber, not understanding the occasion of the difference between the copies, stuffed all into this, that he could find in all the MSS. Had he known that some of those MSS. were from Walter the Archdeacon’s original translation of the history, out of the Armoric; and some again from his second translation from Galfrid’s Latin, he would have kept the copies separate. The transcriber of my copy mentions sometimes—“thus in such a MS. and thus in such a MS.,” but it is impossible to find which is which.

Brut y Tywysogion is only the history of Caradoc of Llancarvan, which was Englished by Humphrey Lloyd, and published by Dr. Powell; and afterwards a very bad edition by Mr. W. Wynne. I would not have you take the trouble upon you to transcribe that; for there are many copies of it. What is most worth your care is the works of the poets; especially that part of them that is historical, as some of Taliesin, Merddin, Llywarch Hen’s are. Merddin mentions the war in Scotland, between Rhydderch Hael, Aeddan ab Gafran, Gwenddolau ab Ceidio, &c., and Taliesin mentions several battles, that none of our historians ever so much as heard of. These are matters of great curiosity—Llywarch Hen in one of his Elegies, mentions Eglwysau Bassa, that was destroyed by the Saxons. Nennius says, that one of the twelve battles fought by Arthur against the Saxons, was upon the river Bassas. Who is that great Apollo among our historians who knows anything of these affairs?—Is there ever a MS. of Nennius, which you can come at? I wish that book was translated into English: it is but small. However, since you are now about the Llyfr Coch, I would have you first to write an index of the contents of it, and send it me, sheet by sheet, and I will give you my opinion what is best to transcribe, and is most uncommon or curious. I do not remember whether the book is paged; let it be as it will, you cannot be long in making such an index, with the first line of each piece. There are some other curious MSS. there; some Bucheddau (Lives) as far as I recollect. But the silly copy of Brut y Brenhinoedd, in a modern hand there, is not worth talking of.—How do you know it is the same with the Bodleian? I presume, that the Brut y Brenhinoedd, in Llyfr Coch, is not the original translation from the Bretonic copy; for I think it mentions Galfrid’s translation in the conclusion of it.—But it is many years since I saw it. I shall ask some questions about certain passages in it, when I have leisure to look into my own copy. I have written abundance of notes, in defence of mine, since you saw it; and the more I examine into it, the better I like it. I had at first but a poor opinion of it; being prepossessed with the character given if by English writers; but when I find the poets, and our genealogies, and ancient inscriptions and coins agree with it; and some foreign writers, I do not wonder that the inveteracy of the old Saxons should still remain against it, as long as Bede is in being. I shall only ask you now,—whether the son of Ascanius is called Silius or Silvius, in Llyfr Coch? It is in the beginning of my copy, which begins—Eneas gwedi ymladd Troya, &c. Mine is not divided into chapters or books. I have time to write no more, but that

I am, Yours sincerely, Lewis Morris.

Galltvadog, Oct. 13, 1751.

The same to the same.

Sir,

I happened to come upon business to this place; and being so near you, and having an hour’s leisure, I could not help sending this to remind you that there is such a one alive, who wishes you well, and who is really glad you have got into such a worthy family. I hope that you will make the best use of your time; you will not be able to see how precious it is till most part of it is gone. This world (or this age) is so full of people that take no time to think at all, that a young fellow is in the greatest danger as can be to launch out among them. The terrestrial part of men being predominant, is as apt as a monkey to imitate everything that is bad. So that the little good which is to be done, must be done in spite of nature.

I expected a line from you upon your being settled, and that you had time to look about you; and when you have leisure, I shall be glad to hear of your doing well. I make no doubt but you will follow your British studies, as well as other languages: for I suppose it will hardly leave you, whether you will or no. Therefore to whet your parts, and in order to improve yourself that way, I propose to you a correspondent, a friend of mine, an Anglesea man; who will be glad of your acquaintance, and I daresay you of his; especially when you have seen some of his performances. His name is Gronw Owen; and you may direct to him at Donnington, near Salop; he keeps a school there, and is curate of a place hard by. He is but lately commenced a Welsh poet; and the first ode he ever wrote, was an imitation of your ode on melancholy. His Cowydd y Farn is the best thing I ever read in Welsh. You will be more surprised with his language and poetry than with anything you ever saw. His ode is styled The Wish, or Gofuned Gronw Ddu o Fon; and is certainly equal, if not superior, to anything I ever read of the ancients.

I have shared the dominion of poetry in Wales among you. He shall have the north, and you the south. But he has more subjects, a hundred to one, than you have, unless Glamorgan affords some.

Mr. Gronw Owen has been for some years laying a foundation for a Welsh rational Grammar, not upon the Latin and Greek plan, but upon the plan that the language will bear. It would be unreasonable to expect an old archbishop to dance a jig and rigadoon with boys and girls; it is certain that the Greek and Latin are such when compared with the Celtic. He has desired of me to bring you acquainted together; and here I do it, unless it is your own faults. He does not know how to write to you, nor I neither; but direct this at a venture.

I am, Your assured friend, And servant, Lewis Morris.

Llandeilo Vawr, April 23, 1752.

The same to the same.

Dear Sir,

My brother gave me yours of the third, with an excellent ode to the King of Prussia. The faults in it I take to be owing to your careless writing of it; for they are such as cannot be from want of knowledge, as the ode itself shows. However, as you desire my corrections (which seems to be a sort of menial office, like a plaisterer, who daubs mortar on a grand piece of building, designed by a great architect) I give you my labour for nothing, and choose whether you follow my opinion or no; for I am no oracle. In my last alterations, in Cowydd Teifi, your line—

Dy lif y loywaf afon—

is certainly best. I only wrote something that came uppermost, to egg you on to do better. Your notion of Maelienydd is wrong. You have been imposed upon by Camden, Selden, or perhaps, by Girald. Cambrensis; or by some of those strangers that knew nothing of the matter. Maelienydd was the country to the south and east of those mountains. But this is besides my purpose. Well, as you think the unity of design, scene, and action of your poem was about Llyn Teifi, I shall not urge the description of Teifi as low as the sea (for there it goes.) And I could have wished you had done it; for nobody else in Cardiganshire is able to do poor Teifi that kindness. As for your sheltering under Horace’s adage, I mind it as nothing. He was a stranger to our methods, handed down to us by his masters, the druidical bards; who knew how to sing before Rome had a name. So never, hereafter, mention such moderns as Horace and Virgil, when you talk of British poetry. Llywarch Hen, Aneurin, and followers of the Druids, are our men; and nature our rule.

With respect to your borrowing Gronw’s manuscript, you may make yourself easy about it. I dare say he would sooner part with his wife, and, for aught I know, children too; but his wife I am sure. Your sentiments of Gronw’s capacity as a poet, are I believe just; for he has had greater opportunities than any poet since the Norman Conquest. But, if you take my word, you will not be behind him, if you stick to it. And, that you may not complain for want of the necessary requisites, as soon as ever I have any leisure, I will send you an ode or two of the ancients, which are not in Gronw’s book, to whet your Awen with. I have a fine collection of the eleventh and twelfth centuries, which I value more than their weight in fine gold.

Your most humble Servant, Lewis Morris.

London, Nov. 13, 1756.

The same to the same.

Dear Sir,

It is now almost an age since I heard from you. From an annual animal it would be a proper expression; and I am but little better, as I change for the worse every year, till I shall be no more.

I was glad to hear you had got to Llanrhychwyn; a place scarcely ever heard of by the inhabitants of the level countries; where you roll I suppose, in ancient MSS. and curiosities; and where the arms of the invaders hardly ever reached.

Mr. W. Wynne was with me one night lately; and it seems he hath as many ancient MSS. as other people have printed books: Gwyn ei fyd! I was very much out of order when he was here, which deprived me of the pleasure I should otherwise have had.

I had a visit paid me lately by John Bradford, of Glamorganshire (darn o brydydd &c.) It seems that country is entirely drained of it, valuable antiquities or else, their MSS. are buried among the rubbish of old libraries unheeded.

The more I look into Nennius the difficulties encrease: for he has been so mangled by ignorant or unskilful readers and transcribers, and by Gale the editor, that, without a body had a sight of all the manuscript copies of it in the public libraries, or elsewhere, there is no attempting to interpret it. Mr. R. Vaughan’s MS. at Hengwrt would be a vast help; but I see no likelihood to come at a sight of that. Any ancient copy of it on vellum, which has not been dabbled with, or compared with the Cambridge, the Oxford MSS. &c.; that is, one which we might call a virgin manuscript, which hath not been ravished by Camden, Markham, Sir S. D’Ewes, or Usher, would give great satisfaction; but where is that to be found? That which Sir J. Pryse had may possibly exist somewhere; and that which Humphrey Lloyd had, may likely be in the neighbourhood of Denbigh still.

I have not had a week’s health since I saw you, and therefore have been in no good humour to read or write.

Have you, among Taliesin’s works, Ymddyddan rhwng Ugnach ab Mydno o Gaerleon a Thaliesin o Gaerdyganwy? If you have it not, I will send it you. It is from the Llyfr Du o Gaerfyrddin.

My chief business of late has been to put the names of men and places in an alphabetical order, and to prepare them for my Celtic remains, from Taliesin’s works, Sir J. Pryse’s Cambria, the Triades, the Gododin, Beddau Milwyr, Aera Cambr. Brit. L. G. Cothi, and extent of Anglesea.

Remember that you promised me the remainder of the Gododin, and never performed it. The last lines of the fragment which I have, are

Tymor tymhestyl Tymhestyl dymor Y beri rhestr rhac rhiallu.

I am now out of the way of all curious antiquities; and you who have an opportunity of seeing every body’s treasures, keep them all to yourself. I long to see the Legends of our Welsh Saints (Buchedd y seintiau). I forgot to tell you, that I am at this very time putting the names of all the parishes in Wales into alphabetical order, for the above purpose. But I find my catalogue of the parishes is not very correct; therefore I must desire the assistance of some that live near the places that are doubtful, and have their correction, or opinion of them. One of them is Llangynsarn. I never heard but of three Plwy’r Creuddyn. Is there a Llangedol near Bangor? Are there parishes called Llangedyrn, Bodfrenin, Llandydwen, Betwnog in Lleyn, or how otherwise called? Is there a parish called Llansilien, near Corwen in Edeyrnion? Or is it Llansilian, or Tyssilio? Are there parishes called Llanelidan, and Y Fynechdid, in Cantref Dyffryn Clwyd: and what is the etymology of them; and also of Llanhychen; and whence is Llanferrys yn Ial derived; and who is Trillo, and Trillo Caenog; and what is the common opinion of the derivation of the name of Gyffylliog?

I shall stop here at present; and leave Flintshire, Montgomeryshire, &c. to another time; and shall hint only what is come just now into my head.

I think you have a vote for a knight of the shire, in this county; if you have not made a positive promise to Mr. Vaughan, or that party, I would advise you to do yourself greater service than you expect at their hands; and I believe you know, that I would not advise to any thing but what would be of advantage to you. Let me hear from you about this point.

I am surprised Dewi Fardd does not come with his books, to deliver to the subscribers. I do not hear that they are come to Aberystwith. He has murdered a good book, by inserting in it the works of the greatest blockheads of the creation, and the most illiterate creatures that bear human shapes; such as Robert Humphrey, &c., &c.—Ffei ffei o honynt! Or were they put as beauty spots, to set you and others off? If it is otherwise, you are alive, and may defend yourself, for standing in such company; but I am heartily sorry for poor Hugh Morris. If he knows of this, that he must stand in spite of his teeth, in company with people that were not worthy to carry the feathers of his quill; and the room which his poem should have filled up, taken by persons as far below him as a Crythor Crwth Trithiant is below Corelli or Vivaldi.

Let me have your opinion upon the names of the parishes as soon as you can.

I am, Yours sincerely, Lewis Morris.

Penbryn, Dec. 20, 1759.

The same to the same.

Dear Sir,

I received your kind favour by Dewi, with the remainder of the Gododin, and some of the Gorchanau. Be so good as to let me know from whence these have been copied, and whether I can depend upon their being correct. I suppose it is your mistake in writing Breint mab Bleidgi, for Bleidig. It seems the Gododin was not one entire piece, but was written in distinct odes; or else what means the preface to the Gorchanau? But where are the distinctions in the copy? I wish we had a correct one: I can make little or nothing of this.

David Jones tells me of a Llanerch copy of Brut y Brenhinoedd, in folio on paper, written by Edward Kyffin, for John Trefor, of Trevalun. I wish I had the beginning and ending of it, as I took off the vellum book, that you brought here; and if you would do the same by the other copies there, I should be glad to see it. By this management we shall be able to distinguish between Galfrid’s, Walter’s translation, and Tyssilio’s original.

I thank you for the inscription at Llanfor, and that at Foel-las. I dare determine nothing about them as yet; only that Mr. Edward Llwyd’s reading is only the froth of a fertile brain. When you copy inscriptions, cut a bit of chalk into a pencil, and trace the letters. In old inscriptions there are often natural lines in the stone; and sometimes lines worn out, which must be supplied with chalk. I suspect you had no chalk at Llanfor; and that your ENIARCH may be Llywarch, or LYVARCH. I wish I could see it. Are you sure, there is not part of it covered still with lime?

I thank you also for John Owen’s Elegy—a good one—I had got it from the navy office; and also Mr. W. Wynne’s.

Mr. Pegge, in a letter lately to Dr. Phillips, says that he has borrowed a MS. of Mr. Davies of Llanerch, which Mr. Pegge has now in his study; and which he says will be of good use to him. Pray what can it be? I have converted Mr. Pegge from the Camdenian faction; and we shall by and by see whether he is an ally of consequence. He is perfectly satisfied with my defence of Tyssilio; and wishes to see a translation of his book. Mr. Davies knows something of him I suppose.

I am glad your spitting of blood is over; take care, your life is precious, whether you have a fat living or no. Dont despair; some men of sense may take notice of you; though, even among the ancient Britons, canonization went seldom out of great families, as appears by Bonedd y Saint, which I have at last completed, as far as my materials reached. I now plainly see that the Llanerch MS. of Bonedd is but a fragment; for there is not a syllable of the Brychan family in it; and but very little of the Caw family. I have reduced the whole into genealogical order; and they take but a very narrow compass. I shall have some difficulty in fixing the times of these saints; for there is some confusion among them, occasioned by the blunders of transcribers.

They have been all hunting after the Llanerch MS. of Bonedd, even Dr. Thomas Williams, and the Anglesea Man, as well as Thomas Wynne, and Thomas ab Llewelyn, &c., and have stumbled in the reading of it, as now plainly appears to me; and what, if I tell you, that you and I also have slipped in one place: I am sure we have.

I am tired now, and have no more to say, but I cough a little less than I did a week ago; and am likely to live till winter at least, unless some unforeseen accident happens. It will be a hard battle if I hold out all the winter. You are now in your bloom of body and spirit; do not lose a moment; you will be sorry if you do. God be with you, and keep you.

I am yours sincerely, Lewis Morris.

Penbryn, July 4, 1760.

The same to the same.

Dear Sir,

It is a long while since I heard from you, and really I don’t know when; for my long and dangerous illness has eradicated all former transactions out of my memory, so that I have but a very faint idea of my former letters sent or received. From the beginning of November to this time, I have been struggling with death at his door; and in the very height of my fever, an accident by fire had likely to have destroyed me and mine. Such shocks are terrible, and enough to deface all correspondence. I am now beginning to be able to sit down to write a little, and but very little; for I am severely troubled with an asthma, which I suppose will finish me one day or other. Chwilio, chwilio a ffaelio cael eich llythyr diwaethaf mewn modd yn y byd. At the time when a pleuretic fever knocked me down, I was fitting up a new closet for my books and papers, and ever since everything has been in confusion, so that I am as long finding out a book or paper, as if I was in Mostyn Library.

Now I think on it, my brother of the navy office tells me, that you have lately met with two or three copies of Brut y Brenhinoedd at Mostyn. I shall be very much obliged to you for an extract of the beginning of each, and of the conclusion, to see if we can come at a genuine copy, which hath not been mixed with Galfrid or Walter; and should be glad to know if you have met with any British books written in the old letter (called now the Saxon), besides a line or two, in the beginning of the Welsh Charter, in Liber Landavensis, which you sent me; and whether all that charter be not written in the same character, or any thing else in that book. This seems to me to be the case with respect to that character, that it was the one which the Druids used, and all Britain and its islands, before the Roman conquest. That the provincial Britains, immediately under the Roman power took the Roman letters; therefore we are not to look for the old character among the Loegrian Britains, nor the Armoricans, nor the Cornish. That the Druids taking their shelter in Wales, Ireland, and the highlands of the North, the British party there retained the old character; but the Roman party took to their new letter; and in process of time, both the Roman and British characters were mixed; as we find them upon some tombstones in Wales, (but not in England) soon after the Saxon conquest. The Irish still retain their old letter; but it seems the Britains laid it quite aside, about the time of the Norman conquest, or before. The North Britains retained it for some time, as appears by those ancient verses, which Mr. Edward Llwyd mentions, and which he takes to be the Pictish. The inscriptions on Pabo’s and Iestin’s tombs, are proofs of what I say; and that of Catamanus, in Llangadwaladyr, of the mixed letter. Mr. Thomas Carte, who had the loan of the Liber Landav. sent me word, that it was written in the Saxon character. It seems he only dipt into the beginning of it, and took all the rest to be the same, or perhaps there may be passages in it here and there, which are in that character. You told me that all the old grants were written in a good strong hand, like my Cnute’s grant, but better rather; and yet in the donation of Iudhail, which you sent me, I find some of the old characters. I also observe that if all the book is written in the same strong good hand, it is not an original; for it is impossible to find persons to write the same hand for hundreds of years successively; and if I remember well, Sir John Pryse, in his defence of British History, mentions some grants, which were scarcely legible in the Liber Landav. in his time; and yet you say, that there are donations therein down to bishop Herwaldus, about 1104. Doth not that shew that the book is only a copy, taken after the Norman conquest, with some notes of later date?

Set me right in these things; for I am at an entire loss about them. This is all I have leisure to write at present, and should be glad to hear from you—who am,

Yours sincerely, Lewis Morris.

Penbryn, February 4, 1761.

The same to the same.

Dear Sir,

A person told me lately, that he had seen you at Hengwrt, in your way home from me; and that you were permitted to look over what MSS. you pleased; and that you translated them offhand into English, as if they had been the common text of the Welsh Bible.

I was very glad of this, and I hope you have met there with the so much desired copy of Nennius, which has had the benefit of Mr. Robert Vaughan’s hand, and which must be the test to all others; and then we shall see a genuine Nennius come out in English, as far as the nature of the thing will bear.

If I can be of any service to you in this arduous task, nothing of my endeavours shall be wanting; and for God’s sake begin to translate into English, as fast as you can, and let me see it as you go on, perhaps I may help you to some notes, or some illustrations or other. I have Nennius and Tyssilio much at heart, and I cannot be long on this side the grave.

Inclosed I send you the old papers, you talked of when here. I never looked into them till now; and cannot guess at the authors quoted therein, except G. for Galfrid; T. W. Thomas Williams, and H. Lh. Humphry Llwyd. What is Scr. Sc., and H. C.?

Be sure to keep up your correspondence with that very curious and valuable man, Mr. Percy. I am afraid that there are not many such learned critics in the kingdom.

I was heartily sorry to see you in those foolish difficulties, when you were here last. For heaven’s sake, for your own sake, and for the sake of us all, do not run yourself into those excesses; but shew the world that you have not only learning and knowledge, far above the common herd; but that you have also discretion and prudence, without which no man will ever arrive at greatness. Nennius will set you up out of the reach of little folks, if you stick to him.

I am yours sincerely, Lewis Morris.

Penbryn, June 26, 1763.

Rev. W. Wynn to the Rev. Evan Evans.

Iolo Goch, o Goed Pantwn, yn Mhlwy Llan Nefydd yn Sir Ddinbych; y mae yno glwt o dir a elwir, y dydd heddyw, Gardd Iolo.—The tradition is fresh in the neighbourhood. I have read in the little book many good C. of D. ap Gwilym since I saw you, tho’ there are some very poor ones amongst them. What I had then read were looked over in haste, and it is impossible to form a right judgment of such things, without a careful perusal, especially when there are uncommon words or various readings to disturb the attention, as there are many in this book. I desire you’ll dash out of my Cywydd y Farn—Tawdd y mellt greigiau gelltydd, and insert these two in their stead—Rhed filfil rhawd ufelfellt, Rhua drwy’r main rheieider mellt—See Edm. Pr. and Wm. Cynwal, Cyw. 29. I have had access to Llannerch library for three days successively, where there are a great many MSS., though few to your taste or mine.—English history, exploded philosophy, monkish theology, and such trash in abundance, written on fine vellum, in a most curious manner. Three good pedigree books, six or seven volumes of Welsh poetry, but for the most part very incorrect. Some of them are most shamefully mangled by the transcribers. I have borrowed one large quarto, transcribed about the conclusion of Queen Elizabeth’s reign, by an ignorant, slovenly fellow, who has murdered the orthography in a most barbarous manner. Yet I think it valuable, because, upon collating some parts of it with other copies, I found it in the general more genuine than the common run, notwithstanding the barbarity of the orthography. Where tarw garw occur, this scribbler always robs the line of a syllable, which is the greatest injury he commits. I have transcribed Duchan Gwyddelyn, o waith Iolo. Marwnad Mad. ap Gr. Mailor, 1236, by Ein. Wan, Mar. Tywysog Llew. ap Gr. by Gwgon, Mar. Ow. Goch; a gânt Bleddyn Fardd; Cyw. merch da, o waith G. O.; Cyw. da i ofyn Cledd, o waith G. O.; Mar. Lleucu Llwyd, o waith I. Ll. G. M. H. Mar. Ll. G. M. H., o waith Iolo.

There is at Llannerch a little old rag, consisting of about 20 pages accurately written, out of which I have transcribed a curious ode if not two. It begins thus: Nid wyf ddihynwyf hoen. Kreirwy hoywdec am hudawdd mal Garwy. After eight Englyns, there is a blank, without the author’s name, and below that begins either another ode of the same person’s, or a remainder of the foregoing, beginning thus: Mireinwawr drefawr dra vo brad ymddwyn, and subscribed Howel ap Eignion ai cant i Vevanwy vechan o Gastell Dinas Bran. After the last stanza is written Mireinwawr drefawr, with a dash, which makes me suppose they are two poems, though on the same subject; because it is common to conclude an ode with a repetition of the first stanza.—Quere, Whether the first of these is not the same with your Awdl Myfanwy? I cannot recollect, but I think it is longer than yours; it ends thus:

Lliw eiry cynnar pen Aran— Lloer bryd lwys fryd o lys Vran.

I lately borrowed a quarto, fairly written by a man of learning and great knowledge in antiquities, but ignorant of the Welsh prosody, for which reason it is not very correct. There are many of D. G. in it, Owdl Fair, by I. R. I. Ll. of Gogerddan; one quarter of which is Latin. I have seen the same in another book given to D. N---, Mawl Edw. 3 ryw bryd gwedi Aerfa Cressi, o waith Iolo.—That battle was fought in the year 1346.—Edw IIId. died 1377.—This is demonstration that Iolo ought to have been placed much higher in chronology than the year 1400; and by his own testimony we find he was a mere Cleirirach before the commencement of the 15th century, though he lived about ten years after. This, though in Iolo’s usual style, I think the most ancient Cywydd I ever saw, excepting one of D. Ddu, Digam gwnaeth Duw oi gymwyd; and even this is, by some, fathered upon Iolo. Mar. Tywysog Llewelyn—Gwaith Bleddyn Fardd—Iolo Goch was of the family of the Pantons, of Coed Panton, and Plas Panton, in the parish of Llan Nefydd, Denbighshire. The Latin version in Saphics of Taliesin’s ode Ef a wnaeth Panton, and some good Cywydds of Iolo’s, that I never saw before, M.D. ap Gr. ap Llew—a lâs yn y Mwythig, a gant Bleddyn Fardd, Dadolwch Rhys, ap Gr. ap Rhys ap Tewdwr, Gwelygorddiau Powys, Breiniau Powys: those three by Cynddelw Br. Mawr.

A small volume was lately given me collected by Mr. Ellis Wynne, of Lasynys, it contains a great many fragments of British prophecies; by Rys Fardd eight; by Ithel Bardd y Bendro one; by Merddin (wyllt I presume) nineteen; by Robin Ddu two; by Ieu. Drwch y Daran one; by Bercam one; by Adda Fras; by Gronwy Ddu; by Jonas Mynyw one; Proffwydoliaeth Dewi St. Bardd Cwsc nine; by Taliesin, on various subjects, fifteen. The matter of those that bear the name of Merddin, may be his, but I judge they are not his compositions by the style, though it is not modern. Some called Taliesin’s, I believe were forged by the Monks, others I think genuine. The prophecies are worth reading, on account of the style and names of places.

I have the constitutions of the Cymmrodorion, and am highly pleased with their scheme. I will contribute something in money, tho I have children, towards promoting it, and with pleasure do all in my power as a corresponding member. Gronwy’s ode is an excellent thing; but what he calls Cadwyn fyr is erroneous, because it is in reality Cadwyn gyflawn. I do not blame him for this, because Dr. IDR’s imperfect rule and false examples led him into this error. Some, perhaps, may be offended because the ode part is not unirythm, which it is supposed to be by the very name; but I do not like the poem the worse for that. I shewed you the true Cadwyn fyr in W. Ll’s grammar, and likewise in S. F’s.—I have since had the same in a book of Gr. Hirs, who was the chief professor of the age, and a perfect master of the faculty, though, in my opinion he had no extraordinary genius. His tutor was Tudur Aled, who was nephew and pupil to D. Edm., yr hwn a ddychymygawdd y mesur Cadwyn fyr.

It were false concord to call it Cadwyn fyr. D. ap Edmund’s tutor was Mered. ap Rhys, of Rhiwabon, witness G. Gl.—Y mae genyf bedwar pedwar ar hugain cerdd Dant Crwth.—Ar 24 cerdd dant telyn, a hanes yr eisteddfod gyntaf yn Nghaerwys.—To-day I saw an account of Merddin a’ Mhorfryn’s being buried in Ynys Enlli. Here patience and paper end together. Remember me to my old neighbours.

Yours affectionately, Wm. Wynn.

Ll. Gynhafal, Dec. 13, 1755.

Dr. Percy, late Bishop Dromore, to the Rev. Evan Evans.

Sir,

By my friend Mr. Williams, rector of Weston, Staffordshire, I have been informed of the great attention you have bestowed on British Literature, and the pains you have taken to rescue the productions of your ancient Bards from oblivion. Though I have not the happiness to understand, yet I have a great veneration for, the ancient language of this Island, and have always had a great desire to see some of the most early and most original productions in it. I could never yet obtain a proper gratification of this desire; for, to their shame be it spoken, most of your countrymen, instead of vindicating their ancient and truly venerable mother tongue from that contempt, which is only the result of ignorance, rather encourage it by endeavouring to forget it themselves. Besides my friend Mr. Williams, whose constant residence in England has deprived him of the means of cultivating his native language so much as he would have done, I never met with one native of Wales, who could give me any satisfactory account of the literary productions of his own country, or seemed to have bestowed any attention on its language and antiquities. Not so the Scots:—they are everywhere recommending the antiquity of their own country to public notice, vindicating its history, and setting off its poetry, and, by dint of constant attention to their grand national concern, have prevailed so far, as to have the broken jargon they speak to be considered as the most proper language for our pastoral poetry. Our most polite ladies affect to lisp out Scottish airs; and in the Senate itself whatever relates to the Scottish Nation is always mentioned with peculiar respect. Far from blaming this attention in the Scotch I think it much to their credit, and am sorry, that a large class of our fellow-subjects with whom we were united in the most intimate union for many ages, before Scotland ceased to be our most inveterate enemy, have not shewn the same respect to the peculiarities of their own country. But, by their supineness and neglect, have suffered a foolish and inveterate prejudice to root itself in the minds of their compatriots, the English,—a prejudice which might have been in a good measure prevented, had the Welsh gentlemen occasionally given them specimens of the treasures contained in their native language, which may even yet be in part removed by the same means.

You have translated, I am informed, some of the Odes of your ancient Bards. I wish you would proceed and make a select collection of the best of them, and so give them to the world. You have probably heard what a favourable reception the public has given to an English version of some Erse Fragments imported from the Highlands of Scotland, and, if you have never seen them, I will send them to you. I am verily persuaded, an elegant translation of some curious pieces of ancient British Poetry would be as well received, if executed in the same manner. I may modestly pretend to have some credit with the booksellers, and with Mr. Dodsley in particular, who is my intimate friend. I shall be very happy to do you any good office with him, and shall be glad to make such an attempt as profitable to you as, I am persuaded, it will be reputable both to you and your country.

I have prevailed on a friend to attempt a Translation of some ancient Runic Odes, composed among the snows of Norway, which will make their appearance at Mr. Dodsley’s shop next winter. My very learned friend and neighbour, the Rev. Mr. Lye, editor of Junius’s Etymologicon, and of Ulphila’s Gothic Gospels, (whose skill in the northern languages has rendered him famous all over Europe,) is now rescuing some valuable remains of Saxon Poetry from oblivion, and I can perhaps obtain leave of him to let you see one of these odes by way of specimen, accompanied with his version. I have not been altogether idle myself; but my attention has been chiefly bestowed on the languages spoken in the southern parts of Europe. I have collected some curious pieces of ancient Spanish Poetry, and when I have translated a select collection of them, may perhaps give them to the public. Amidst the general attention of ancient and foreign poetry it would be a pity to leave that of the Ancient Britons forgotten and neglected, and therefore, when I heard that a person so capable was employed in collecting and translating those valuable remains, it gave me a very sensible pleasure, and I could not help expressing in a volunteer letter to you, the sense I entertain of the obligation, which you will undoubtedly confer on all real lovers of literature and the productions of antiquity.

If you will favour me with a line containing a more particular account of what has been the object of your labours, I shall be able to form a more exact idea of the success, that may be expected from them than I can at present. I will also communicate them to several eminent Literati of my acquaintance, and to mention one in particular, Mr Johnson, the author of the Dictionary, Rambler, &c., who will, I am sure, be glad to recommend your work, and to give you any advice for the most advantageous disposal of it. If you take these voluntary offers of service in good part, you will please to favour me with a line, and I would wish also a specimen of your labours, together with a full direction where to write to you. I am a Clergyman, and shall receive any favour of this kind, that is enclosed under a cover to the Right Honourable Henry Earl of Sussex, at Easton Maudit Castle, by the Ashby Bag, Northamptonshire.

I am Sir, though unknown, Your very faithful obedient servant, Thomas Percy.

Easton Maudit, July 21, 1761.

P.S. I am told you are acquainted with Mr. Gray, the poet. Pray has he any foundation for what he has asserted in his Ode on the British Bards, viz. that there is a tradition among the inhabitants of Wales, that our Edward the First destroyed all the British Bards that fell into his hands? The existence of such a tradition has been doubted.

The same to the same.

Dear Sir,

That I have so long defer’d answering your very obliging letter has been altogether owing to the following cause. I proposed sending you a Saxon ode, accompanied with a Latin literal and an English free version; the former done by my very learned friend Mr. Lye, from out of whose curious collections I transcribed both it and the original. But, having left it with him to give it a revise, he has unfortunately mislaid both the original and copy, so that, although he has for this month past occasionally endeavour’d to recover them, he has not been able to succeed. As soon as they emerge from the immense ocean of his papers, you may depend upon receiving this curious specimen of Saxon poetry. In the mean time I would not defer any longer returning you thanks for the curious and valuable contents of your letter. I admire your Welsh ode very much; it contains a large portion of the sublime. The images are very bold and animated, and poured forth with such rapidity, as argues an uncommon warmth of imagination in the bard, whose mind seems to have been so filled with his subject, and the several scenes of the war appear to have so crowded in upon him, that he has not leisure to mark the transitions with that cool accuracy, which a feebler genius would have been careful to have done. It is one continued fiery torrent of poetic flame, which, like the eruptions of Etna, bears down all opposition.

You must pardon me if I think your critical friend quite mistaken in his remarks on this ode. He confounds two species of poetry as distinct and different as black and white. Epic poetry delights in circumstance, and it is only in proportion as it is circumstantial that it has merit; the very essence of it (as its name implies) is narration. So a narrative, devoid of all circumstances, must be very jejune, confused, and unsatisfactory. But here lies the great art of the epic poet,—that he can be minute and circumstantial without descending from the sublime, or exciting other than grand and noble ideas. Thus, when Homer describes the stone, which Diomede threw at Æneas, had be only told us in general terms, that it was a large one,

— Ο δε χερμαδιον λαθε χειρι Τυδειδης, μεyα ερyον,—

had he stopped here, as many an inferior poet would have done, should we have had so great an idea of the hero’s strength or vigour, as when he adds the following particular and striking circumstances?

— Ο ου δυω y' ανδρε φεροιεν, Οιοι νυν Βροτοι εισ, ο δε μιν ρεα παλλε και οιος.

Iliad E. 1.304.

On the other hand, it is the essence of ode to neglect circumstance, being more confin’d in its plan, and having the sublime equally for its object. In order to attain this, it is obliged to deal in general terms, to give only such hints as will forcibly strike the imagination, from which we may infer the particulars ourselves. It is no demerit or disparagement in your bard to have neglected the minute circumstances of the battle, because it would have been impossible for him to have described them within the narrow limits of his ode. Here lies his great merit, that he hints, he drops, and the images he throws out, supply the absence of a more minute detail, and excite as grand ideas as the best description could have done. And so far I agree with your critical friend, that no poet ever hit upon a grander image than that of “A Menai heb drai o drallanw,” &c., nor could take a nobler method to excite our admiration at the prodigious cause of so amazing an effect. So much for criticism.

Soon after I received your letter I was down at Cambridge, where I had the good fortune to meet with Mr. Gray, the poet, and spent an afternoon with him at his chambers. Our discourse turned on you and the Welsh poetry: I shewed him your letter, and he desired leave to transcribe the passage relating to King Edward’s massacre of the Welsh bards. All the authority he had before, it seems, was only a short hint in Carte’s history: he seemed very glad of this authentic extract. We both join’d in wishing a speedy conclusion to your historical labours, that you might be at leisure to enter upon this far more noble field of ancient British poetry. Excuse me if I think the recovery of particular facts from oblivion, any further than as they contribute to throw light upon compositions, not half of so much consequence to the world, as to recover the compositions themselves.

Your nation and ours are now happily consolidated in one firm indissoluble mass, and it is of very little importance, whether Llewelyn or Edward had the advantage in such a particular encounter. At least very few (even learned and inquisitive readers) will interest themselves in such an enquiry,—whereas the productions of genius, let them come from what quarter they will, are sure to attract the attention of all. Every reader of taste, of whatever country or faction, listens with pleasure, and forms a higher or meaner opinion of any people, in proportion as they are affected by this exertion of their intellectual powers. To give an instance, that is parallel to your own case, the Danes and Swedes have, for this century past, been rescuing their ancient writings from oblivion; they have printed off their Icelandic Histories, and collected what they could of their ancient Runic Poems. The latter have attracted the attention of all Europe; while the former are no otherwise regarded, than as they contribute to throw light on the latter. A very celebrated Frenchman has lately translated some curious specimens of them into his own language; and Mr. Dodsley will soon print a curious Spicilegium of the same kind in English, of which I will procure a copy and send you when printed off. But who will be at the pains (except a few northern antiquaries) to give a careful perusal to the other? I have this moment a voluminous corpus of them (lately borrowed) before me. Even curious and inquisitive, as you are yourself, into historical facts, let me ask you if you would be willing to read 800 pages folio, in a barbarous literal Latin version, concerning the exploits of King Haquin Sarli; the mighty achievements of Ghorfinne Harlecefni, and of twenty other valiant barbarians? Yet, when you come to read the native undenied poetic descriptions of the ancient Runic Bards, their forcible images, their strong paintings, their curious display of ancient manners, I defy the most torpid reader not to be animated and affected; and then we are content to make some enquiry after the history of these savage heroes, that we may understand the songs of which they are the subjects. In like manner, with regard to your own Owain Gwynedd, without intending the least disrespect to so valiant a prince, I believe few readers will desire to know any further of his history, than as it will serve for a comment to Gwalchmai’s very sublime and animated Ode. After all, I would not have any historical monuments perish, or be totally neglected. They may come into use upon a thousand occasions, that we cannot at present foresee, and therefore I am glad, that the northern nations have been careful to secure even the above (to us uninteresting) narratives from destruction. And I should be very glad to have the same care taken of those of the ancient Britons. But I think the first care is due to these noble remains of ancient genius, which are in so much greater danger or perishing, because so much harder to be understood.

How strongly is our curiosity excited by the mention you make (in your letter to Mr. Williams), of the Epic Poem, written in a.d. 578, and the other works of Aneurin Gwawdrydd. What a noble field for literary application to rescue such a fine monument of antiquity from oblivion: to which every revolving year of delay will most certainly consign it, till it is lost for ever! Hic Labor, hoc opus. I hope, dear Sir, you will take in good part the freedom, with which I have ventured to advise you on a subject, of which you are so much a better judge than myself; but my zeal, though it may be blind, is well meant. I would fain excite you to direct that application, which you so laudably bestow on your ancient language, in such a manner as may be most profitable to yourself, and most reputable to your country.

Macpherson goes on furiously in picking up subscriptions for his proposed Translation of the ancient Epic Poem in the Erse Language; though hardly one reader in ten believes the specimens produced to be genuine. Much greater attention would be due to an editor, who rescues the original itself from oblivion, and fixes its meaning by an accurate version. I entirely agree with you, that a Latin version, as literal as possible, should accompany such ancient pieces, but then I would also have you subjoin at the same time a liberal English translation. By this means your book will take in all readers, both the learned and the superficial. This method of publication has been attended with great success among the northern nations, where all their Runic Pieces have been confronted both with a literal version in Latin, and a more spirited one in the modern languages either of Sweden or Denmark. Were you to endeavour to collect into a corpus all the remains of your ancient poetry, and print it by subscription begun among your own countrymen, and warmly recommended by them to us, it would certainly pay well, and be a very valuable present to the public; but then you ought to send forth a few select pieces into the world, previous to such an undertaking, to bespeak the good opinion of mankind, and this, whenever you please to execute it, shall be attended with my warmest services. In the mean time I hope you will continue to favour me with specimens of your ancient poetry as often as your leisure will permit; and, if any thing else that is curious should occur in the course of your studies, you will confer a great pleasure by imparting it to,

Dear Sir, your very faithful and obedient servant, Thomas Percy.

Easton Maudit, Oct. 15, 1761.

N.B. I shall defer sending a specimen of Runic Poetry till I send you the whole collection printed, which you may depend on. May I hope to see your Latin Essay on British Poetry?

The same to the same.

Dear Sir,

I know not whether the favour you have done me, in having wrote to me once or twice, entitles me to address you with the familiarity of a near acquaintance; but I have ventured to trouble you with a voluntary letter. I presume you have received a very long one from me through the medium of Mr. Williams. In that I requested to know if you had any good old popular ballads in the Welsh language on historical and romantic subjects. This was not a random question. I have in my possession a very ancient MS. collection of such pieces in our own language, some of which will throw great light on our old poets. I have selected two for your inspection, which, when perused, do me the favour to return, and inform me whether you can remember any on the same subjects in the Cambrian tongue. I have reason to believe both the inclosed pieces are of great antiquity. The fragment is certainly more ancient than the time of Chaucer, who took his Old Wife Bath’s tale from it, as any one upon perusal will be convinced, and consequently that the song was not taken from Chaucer. I cannot help thinking many of these pieces, about King Arthur, translations from the ancient British tongue; and it is in order to receive information on this subject, that I now apply to you. I am going to print a select collection of these old pieces, not only on account of the merit of the poetry which they contain, (and even these display proofs of great invention,) but also as conducing to illustrate our best old poets who frequently allude to these compositions. As the press waits, I would intreat the favour of a speedy answer. I shall soon be able to send you a specimen of some Runic poetry; which, you will find, bears a surprising similitude to your own Welsh songs, more specimens of which, at your leisure, will oblige,

Dear Sir, your most faithful servant, Thomas Percy.

Easton Maudit, Nov. 22, 1761.

The same to the same.

Dear Sir,

I received the favour of your obliging letter and the valuable present of the two British Odes translated into English. They have afforded me great pleasure, and they display a rich vein of poetry. I think a select collection of such pieces, thrown into a shilling pamphlet, would not fail to prove as acceptable to the public as the Erse Fragments, and would be far more satisfactory, because you could remove all suspicions of their genuineness, which, I am afraid, Mr. Macpherson is not able to do. I observe with you a remarkable similarity between our Runic and your British pieces. As our Runic Poetry will be fit for publication towards Michaelmas, I wish you could get ready such another Collection of British Poetry to follow it in due time, while the curiosity of the public is fixed on these subjects. And, when all these pamphlets have had their day, then throw them into a volume under some such title as this, “Specimens of the Ancient Poetry of different Nations.” I have for some time had a project of this kind, and, with a view to it, I am exciting several of my friends to contribute their share. Such a work might fill up two neat pocket volumes. Besides the Erse Poetry, the Rune Poetry, and some Chinese Poetry, that was published last winter, at the end of a book called “Han Kirn Choaan,” or the Pleasing History, 4 vols.,—besides these, I have procured a MS. translation of the “Tagrai Carmen,” from the Arabic; and have set a friend to translate Solomon’s Song afresh from the Hebrew, with a view to the Poetry. This also is printing off, and will soon be published in a shilling pamphlet. Then I have myself gleaned up specimens of East Indian Poetry, Peruvian Poetry, Lapland Poetry, Greenland Poetry; and inclosed I send you a specimen of Saxon Poetry. The subject is a victory gained by the Anglo-Saxon, Athelstan, over the Dane Anlafe and his confederate Constantius King of Scotland. If you compare it with the Runic Ode of Regner Lodbrog, you will see a remarkable affinity between them, some of the phrases and imagery being common to both, as the play of arms, &c., &c. The Latin version falls from the pen of my very learned friend Mr. Lye, who has made many important emendations in the original. The English was a slight attempt of my own, to see if one could not throw a little spirit into a literal interlineary version, but I have no reason to boast of my success. I believe the best way would be to publish the English by itself, like the Runic Odes, and throw the two columns of Latin and Saxon to the end. Give me your opinion of my proposal, with regard to the various specimens mentioned above, and the share I would recommend to yourself in particular. Be pleased also to return my Saxon Ode, when perused, for I have kept no copy.

I suppose you have no British Poetry extant, that was written before the conversion to Christianity, as we have of the Runic, and as they affect to have of the Erse; if not, then the most ancient you have is to be chosen. Could not you give some of the Poetry of Taliesin and Merddin? I must observe one thing, that your Odes will require a few explanatory Notes, chiefly with regard to the proper names; and, if you would not think it too great an innovation, I could wish you would accommodate some of your ancient British names somewhat more to our English pronunciation. This is what the Erse translator has done, and, I think, with great judgment. The word might be a little smoothed and liquidated in the text, and the original spelling retained in the margin. Thus Macpherson has converted Lambhdearg into Lamderg, Geolchopack (a woman’s name) into the soft word Gealcossa, &c. This is a liberty assumed in all languages; and indeed, without it, it would not be possible for the inhabitants of one nation to pronounce the proper names of another.

You tell me you have read Bartholinus’s book of Danish Antiquities; it is a most excellent performance. There is a celebrated Frenchman, the Chevalier Mallet, historiographer to the present King of Denmark, who has lately published a work in French on the same subject, at the end of which he has given a French translation of the famous Edda or Alcoran (if you suffer me to use the word) of the ancient Teutonic nations. If I have health and leisure, I intend to translate this book into English, though it is a formidable undertaking, being a quarto of no small size. I have got the book, which is a capital performance.

I should have one advantage over most others for such an attempt, which is, that my learned neighbour, Mr. Lye, has got the Islandic original of the Edda, and would compare my version with it. I have one thing still to mention, and then I have done. I have lately been employed in a small literary controversy with a learned friend, about the original and antiquity of the popular notion concerning Fairies and Goblins. My friend is for fetching that whimsical opinion from the East, so late as the time of the Crusades, and derives the words Elf and Goblin from the Guelfe and Gibbeline factions in Italy. But I think it would be impossible for notions so arbitrary to have obtained so universally, so uniformly, and so early (see Chaucer’s Wife of Bath’s Tale), if they had not got possession of the minds of men many ages before. Nay, I make no doubt but Fairies are derived from the Daergar or Dwarfs, whose existence was so generally believed among all the northern nations. Can you, from any of your ancient British writers, enable me to ascertain any of these disputed points, or any resemblance to the name of Fairy, Elf, Goblin, in your language? I should think, that these popular superstitions are aboriginal in the island, and are remains of the ancient Pagan creed. Favour me with your opinion on this subject when you write next, which, as your letters are so extremely curious and fraught with entertainment, I beg may be soon.

I remain, Sir, your very faithful servant, Thomas Percy.

The same to the same.

Dear Sir,

I received your obliging letter, which is so curious, that I cannot but request the repetition of such valuable favours. I am going to draw up a short Essay on the origin and progress of our English poetry, in which I shall have occasion to be very particular in my account of our metrical Romances; and, as I believe many of these are drawn from old British fables, if not downright translations from the ancient British language, I should be extremely obliged to you, if you would give the titles, and, if possible, a short account of the subjects, of all such Romances, as are contained in the vellum manuscript, which you mention, or any other, which you may remember to have seen. I have a notion, that we have many of them translated into English and thence into French and other southern languages.

Inclosed I send you a little Essay on the origin &c. of the English drama. Bishop Warburton has handled the subject before me in the 5th vol. of his Shakespeare; but, as he derives all his information from the French critics, and his instances from the French stage, you will conclude, that he is often wide of the mark and generally superficial. Yet he has one extract from Carew’s Survey of Cornwall, relating to the old Cornish plays, which I recommend to your notice; because I could wish to know, (not now, but at any future leisure,) whether you have any thing similar in Wales. The passage from Carew is this. “The Guary Miracle, in English, Miracle-Play, is a kind of interlude compiled, in Cornish, out of some scripture history. For representing this they raise an earthen amphitheatre, in some open field, having the diameter of this inclosed plain some 40 or 50 feet. The country people flock from all sides to see and hear it: for they have therein devils and devices to delight as well the eye as the ear. The players conne not their parts without books, but are more prompted by one called the Ordinary, who followeth at their heels, with the book in his hand.” In an act of Parliament, 4th Hen. IV., mention is made of certain Wastours, Master Rimours (Rimers) and Minstrels, who infested the land of Wales, to make commorths or gatherings upon the people there. Query the meaning of this? I am afraid, lest I should be too troublesome with my queries, and, therefore, reserve what you please to answer at any future hour; only send me an account of your romances now, which will oblige, dear Sir, your affectionate and faithful servant,

Thomas Percy.

Easton Maudit, March, 20, 1763.

The same to the same.

Dear Sir,

I have been many months indebted to you for a very obliging letter. I delayed to answer it, in expectation of seeing your curious Specimens of the Ancient British Poetry, advertised, from the press before this time. Permit me to enquire, what forwardness that intended publication (which you gave me hopes in your last of seeing speedily printed) is in? From the translations, you have already favoured me with a sight of, I conceive a very favourable idea of the merits of your ancient bards, and should be sorry to have their precious relics swallowed up and lost, in the gulph of time; a danger which they will incur, if you, that are so well acquainted with their beauties, and so capable of making them understood by others, neglect this opportunity of preserving them. I can readily conceive that many of their most beautiful peculiarities cannot possibly be translated into another language, but even through the medium of a prose translation one can discern a rich vein of poetry, and even classical correctness, infinitely superior to any other compositions of that age, that we are acquainted with. Certain I am, that our own nation, at that time, produced nothing that wears the most distant resemblance to their merit.

I have lately been collecting specimens of English poetry, through every age, from the time of the Saxons, down to that of Elizabeth, and am ashamed to show you what wretched stuff our rhimers produced at the same time that your bards were celebrating the praise of Llewelyn with a spirit scarce inferior to Pindar. Inclosed I send you a specimen of an Elegy on the death of Edward I.—that cruel Edward, who made such havoc among the Cambrian poets. I know not whether you will be able to decipher these foul scrawls or distinguish them from the marginal explications, with which I have accompanied them. But you will see enough to be convinced of the infinite superiority of your own bards; nor do I know, that any of the nations of the continent (unless perchance Italy, which now about began to be honoured by Dante) were able at that time to write better than the English. The French, I am well assured, were not. One thing is observable in the Elegy on Edward the First, which is, that the poet, in order to do the more honour to his hero, puts his eulogium in the mouth of the Pope, with the same kind of fiction as a modern bard would have raised up Britannia or the genius of Europe, sounding forth his praises. Considering the destruction which our merciless monarch made among the last sons of ancient genius, it may be looked upon as a just judgment upon him, that he had no better than these miserable rhimes to disgrace his memory.

With regard to your Specimens, should they not yet be put to the press, I should take it for a great favour if you would indulge me with a sight of them in MS., or at least the Dissertation to be prefixed to them; an indulgence that would not be abused, and which, under whatever restrictions you please, would oblige, dear Sir,

Your very affectionate and faithful servant, Thomas Percy.

Eastern Maudit, Dec. 31, 1763.

The same to the same.

Dear Sir,

It is with pleasure I perform all your requests: inclosed you have the transcript from Wormius which you desired. As his book relates only to the Runic letters and ancient manner of writing, it did not fall within his subject professedly to treat of the Islandic prosody; he has, therefore, only described one species of verse out of innumerable others, and this, as it were, by the bye and by way of specimen. He refers to the Edda, or old Islandic book of prosody, for the rest; this book I have not seen.—There is another Edda, which I have, that explains the Islandic mythology, and of this I shall publish, ere long, a translation, with some curious notes and dissertations of M. Mallet, the present historiographer to the King of Denmark, as you may remember I have hinted in the preface to my specimens of Runic Poetry.

When may one hope to see your Dissertatio de Bardis? I am fond of the subject, and have great expectations of your manner of handling it. I thank you for your friend’s preface; though he is not much master of English style, the particulars he produces are curious. I have turned to my learned friend Mr. Lye’s edition of Junii Etymologicon Anglicanum for the etymology of such words as your friend mentions, and I find nothing, that does not confirm his derivations; I have not time now to descend to particulars, but shall be glad to hear from you as soon as agreeable. One so much master, as you are, of British antiquities, whether historic or poetical, can never want means of entertaining,

Dear Sir, your very affectionate servant, Thomas Percy.

Easton Maudit, April 10, 1764.

P.S. Pray, are the Welsh romances, you have described, in prose or verse? If they are in prose, then let me ask if you have ever seen any in verse? I take it, these subjects were treated in verse before they came to plain prose in most nations. This, at least, I find to be the case in the old Erse and Islandic languages, as well as in the more modern Italian, French, Spanish, and English tongues. I have got curious specimens in the last I mentioned. Pray is the word St. Great, or St. Greal, in the first article of your curious letter?

WELSH PROVERBS.

It appears that the Rev. E. Evans (Ieuan Prydydd Hir), had prepared for publication a Collection of our Ancient Welsh Proverbs; for a writer in the second volume of the “Cambro Briton,” gives the following translation of the Latin Preface preffixed to the MSS., which we here reprint.

Having discovered Dr. Davies of Mallwyd’s Latin Translation of our Welsh Proverbs among many other ancient MSS. in the library at Llanvorda, and soon after having found, also the original, from which his was transcribed, among the same valuable collection, I thought I could not undertake a more useful work to my country, than to publish the same, and dedicate it, as the first fruits of my labours, to my munificent patron, Sir W. W. Wynn. The exact time when that ancient bard and philosopher, called by the Welsh Hen Gyrys o Iâl, flourished, cannot be accurately ascertained. Two collections of Proverbs, made by him, and written on parchment, are now extant in the above library, and, at the end of the said book, a fair copy of Hywel Dda’s laws; and from the best judgment, which can be formed from the appearance of the said MSS. and the mode of writing, or form of the hand, it may with safety be pronounced to be about five hundred years old. To the former of these two collections is annexed the following note respecting the author: “Mabieith Hen Gyrys o Iâl, yr hwn a elwit Bach Buddugre a Gado Gyfarwydd, a Gwynfarch Gyfarwydd, a’r hen wyrda a ddyvawt y Diarhebion o Ddoethineb, hyd pan veint gadwedig, gwedy hwynt, i roddi dysg i’r neb a synio arnynt; canys crynodeb parablan llawer a synwyreu y cynghoreu doethbrud a ddangosir ar vyrder, i’r neb a’u dyallo yn y diarhebion.” Iâl, where this celebrated old Cyrys resided, is a mountainous district, containing five parishes, situated towards the north-east corner of the county of Denbigh; and Buddigre, where he lived, is near, if not within, the limits of the parish of Bryn Eglwys. It is evident, that this collection of Proverbs was made from various works of a great number of old bards, living in different ages; for many of them are taken from the compositions of Llywarch Hen (Llywarch the Aged), and from the poems of Aneurin and Taliesin, and several from those of other bards much more ancient, whose effusions have unfortunately perished.

It is more than probable, that many of these pithy sentences and proverbial sayings, these aphorisms of wisdom and axioms of prudence, were the productions of the venerable Druids; and they exhibit, in the present imperfect form, in which they have been delivered to us, no despicable specimens of those verses mentioned by Cæsar, in the seemingly enigmatical mysteries of which their pupils were initiated, and spent many years in acquiring and committing them to memory. And he farther informs us, that, notwithstanding these learned sages made use of Greek characters in transacting both their public and private affairs, yet their disciples were not permitted to write these verses, principally, (as it appeared to him,) for two reasons; in the first place, because, if they were allowed to do so, the mysteries of their profession would soon be divulged: and, secondly, if these aphorisms were committed to writing, the noviciates, confiding in such artificial aids, would no longer be at the pains of sufficiently exercising their memories. Many of these poetical proverbs are composed in that peculiar kind of metre, which is distinguished by the name of Englyn Milwr, and these verses are possessed of such strong internal marks of antiquity, that I may with safety pronounce them to be the genuine productions of the Druids. And, as they are by no means unworthy of being considered as the real effusions of those learned sages and philosophers, it will not, I hope, be deemed a digression, or by any means irrelevant to the object of this introduction, to gratify the reader with a specimen of one of these oracular compositions, together with a close literal Latin version. The first two lines of these poetical triplets seem to contain some of the privileges of the Druids, and the third generally exhibits some maxim of wisdom or axiom of prudence. The following were transcribed from the Red Book of Hergest, in the library of Jesus College, Oxford:—

1. 1.

Marchwiail bedw briglas, A dyn fy nhroed o wanas; Nac addef dy rin i wàs. Virgulta betulæ viridis Meum pedem e compede solvent; Secretum tuum juveni ne reveles.

2. 2.

Marchwiail derw mewn llwyn, A dyn fy nhroed o gadwyn: Nac addef dy rin i forwyn. Virgulta quercûs de luco Solvent pedem meum e catenâ: Ne reveles secretum tuum virgini.

3. 3.

Marchwiail derw deiliar, A dyn fy nhroed o garchar: Nac addef dy rin i lafar. Virgulta quercûs frondosæ Pedem meum e carcere liberabunt: Ne reveles secretum tuum homini loquaci.

The foregoing stanzas, as well as many others of the same description, are still extant is the above mentioned book, called Llyfr Coch o Hergest, and likewise in several MSS. in the libraries of Llanvorda near Oswestry, and Hengwrt near Dolgellau; and, on account of their having accidentally been discovered among the compositions of that ancient bard Llywarch Hen, Dr. Davies and Edw. Llwyd have hastily and inconsiderately pronounced them to be some of his productions; but the frequent recurrence of the oak, their favourite tree, and the dark allusions to the druidical rites and privileges, most evidently and convincingly, (in my opinion,) denote their origin to be from that source. But here it may be objected, that the Druids could not, (as Cæsar declares it was not their usual practice,) have committed these verses to writing. Granted it was so in his time; yet it is manifest from the poems of our celebrated bard Taliesin, that, in subsequent times, they did not strictly adhere to this resolution; for many of their pretended mysteries are divulged in his compositions. It is also evident, that, in these early ages, the Druids were not the only persons, who were thus cautious of revealing their secrets to the vulgar; but the Bards also endeavoured to conceal their poetical rules and metres, from the public; for their book of prosody, containing the intricacies of the art, is distinguished by the name of Cyfrinach y Beirdd, (i.e. The Secret of the Bards,) and they were strictly prohibited from explaining these, except to their own noviciate disciples, which continued to be their practice nearly to our own times. But, notwithstanding these strict prohibitions, it is well known, that the poetical compositions of the bards were publicly recited; and it is evident that, after the commencement of the Christian æra, the Druids were not so scrupulously cautious with respect to these rules of secrecy, which may be proved from some stanzas, which I have seen in an ancient MS., denominated Englynion Duad, probably from a bard or druid of that name. Some few of the lines I shall here subjoin, for the inspection of the reader.

Bid gogor gan iâr, Bid gan lew drydar, Bid oval ar a’i câr; Bid tòn calon gan alar.

These lines have been introduced into our Welsh proverbs; and the following remark is made on them at the end of Dr. Davies’s MS. copy.

“Gwyl y rhagor y sydd rhwng y rhai hyn ar rhai sydd yn Llyfr Coch, a hen gopiau eraill; a gwybydd fod y gerdd hon yn hen iawn; gan fod cymmaint o ymrafael rhwng yr hen gopiau.” i.e. Advertat lector quàm variant inter se exemplar Hergestianum et alia exemplaria in hoc cantico, et sciat, hoc carmen ob differentias prædictas esse vetustissimum.

Those learned men are, therefore, mistaken, who suppose, that the Druids never committed any of their compositions to writing; when it is evident, that these and others of their productions have been conveyed down to us. Taliesin, as I have before hinted, informs us, that he was instructed by them in many of their mysteries, particularly in that of the μετεμψυχωσις, and in many other rudiments of their philosophy. And hence it is, that his works are more obscure than those of any other of the ancient bards.

There is also a certain degree of obscurity in the very words and language of Taliesin; and the same may be observed of the compositions of Aneurin Gwawdrydd and other bards of the same age, a catalogue of whose works may be found in the learned Edward Llwyd’s Archæology, collected from the notes of William Maurice, Esq., of Cefn y Braich. But Mr. E. Llwyd never saw any of the poetical compositions of Taliesin, Aneurin, and other early bards, except those of Llywarch Hen, which he found in Llyfr Coch o Hergest: and the works of these ancient authors will afford us very material assistance, not only in the investigation of our ancient British language, but also in examining historical facts, and in tracing the origin of the various tribes, who inhabited this island during that early period. Taliesin, in a poem, of which the following is the title, “Cerdd am Feibion Llyr ap Brychwel Powys,” mentions three separate nations, who had taken possession of different parts of Britain, previous to his time, viz., Gwyddyl (Celts or Gauls,) Brython, and Romani, (Romans.)

Gwyddyl, a Brython, a Romani, A wna hon dyhedd, a dyfysci; Ac am derfyn Prydein, cain ei threfi.

And they are represented as exciting war and tumult on the borders of this fair isle, and its beautiful towns and cities; and it appears evidently from this poem, that the first inhabitants were Gwyddyl or Celts, which circumstance Mr. Llwyd and others have proved most satisfactorily, from the names of mountains, rivers, &c. But by the word Gwyddyl Taliesin must, by no means, be understood to mean the modern Irish; for their language at present contains a very considerable mixture of Cantabrian and Spanish, and differs very materially from the ancient genuine Celtic and British, which clearly appears from the writings of the old bards, and the ancient British Proverbs. For, if any person were vain enough to suppose, that he could discover the meaning of some of our obsolete British words, by consulting an Irish Dictionary, he would soon find himself woefully disappointed, and I am clearly of opinion, that the ancient genuine Celtic dialect had a very near affinity to the old Welsh or British. I believe, that the persons, denominated Gwyddyl by Taliesin, were genuine Celtæ, and inhabited this island previous to the arrival of the Britons, and probably soon after the general deluge, and that these Celtæ were the progeny of the Titans; for the Curetes and Corybantes, who were their princes and nobles, are clearly identified with the Cowri of the British history, written by Tyssilio (the bishop), which Geoffrey of Monmouth has very improperly translated Giants. And this blunder of his has been the source of endless mistakes; for the word Cowri evidently means princes, generals, nobles, or persons of great eminence. The Curetes are therefore our Cowri; and the Corybantes (i.e. Cowri-Bann) were princes or persons of great eminence, as the expression denotes; and, what is still more to our purpose, the word gwyddyl also implies any thing conspicuous, and is nearly synonymous with Cowri, which is the usual term, even to the present day, to designate persons of uncommon stature or great bodily strength. The Curetes, therefore, were evidently our Cowri, and the Corybantes (i.e. Cowri-Bann) imply princes or leaders, or persons of the most eminent rank and consequence: and, in order to corroborate this assertion, it may be observed here, that there is a very high mountain near Towyn, in the county of Merioneth, which, to this day, bears the name of Gwyddyl Fynydd; and the highest peak or summit of Snowdon, is denominated Yr Wyddfa, (i.e. the highest eminence or the most conspicuous,) and by the common people, even at this time, is known by no other name. And Gwydd Grug means a high hill, or eminence; Gwydd Fryniau, high banks; and Trum Gwydd, the ridge of a mountain; and many others, which it would be tedious and useless to enumerate. And it may also be observed here, that the Κελται and Γαλαται of the Greeks, and the Celtæ and Galli, of the Latins, appear to me to bear no other import. For Gallt and Allt are clearly synonymous with Gwyddel, and denote any thing high or eminent, though the word Gallt is, at present, restricted to designate the steep ascent of a hill, or a declivity; but, that the word Gallt was anciently used to denominate high mountains may be justly inferred from the word Alps, which is evidently composed of two Celtic words, Gallt-ban, or pen, i.e. Allt-ban, Al-pen, or Alpine, which commutation or change of initial letters will appear easy to any person acquainted with the British language, and perfectly justified by the rules of grammar, as the mutations of radical letters in Welsh are well known to be nearly endless. It would not be difficult to prove, that the ancient Britons are descendants of the Celtæ, and a close connection and affinity may be traced between their language not with the ancient Celtic only but also with the Greek; and, it is at the same time very evident, that their dialect differed materially from that of the aboriginal inhabitants of this island, and whom on that account they denominated Gaillt and Gwyddyl. The British language retains to this day many words purely Greek, such as Haul, Ηλιος, the sun, Dwfr, Υδωρ, water, and many others, which have been pointed out some time by the learned Pezron. But, that the Britons had other words of the same import purely Celtic may be proved from the works of the ancient bards; for huan is made use of by Iorwerth Vychan, and many other bards, to signify the sun,—