And then, besides, to our knowledge of the Celtic genius, Mr. Norris
has brought us from Cornwall, M. de la Villemarque from Brittany,
contributions, insignificant indeed in quantity, if one compares them
with the mass of the Irish materials extant, but far from
insignificant in value.

We want to know what all this mass of documents really tells us about
the Celt. But the mode of dealing with these documents, and with the
whole question of Celtic antiquity, has hitherto been most
unsatisfactory. Those who have dealt with them, have gone to work,
in general, either as warm Celt-lovers or as warm Celt-haters, and
not as disinterested students of an important matter of science. One
party seems to set out with the determination to find everything in
Celtism and its remains; the other, with the determination to find
nothing in them. A simple seeker for truth has a hard time between
the two. An illustration or so will make clear what I mean. First
let us take the Celt-lovers, who, though they engage one's sympathies
more than the Celt-haters, yet, inasmuch as assertion is more
dangerous than denial, show their weaknesses in a more signal way. A
very learned man, the Rev. Edward Davies, published in the early part
of this century two important books on Celtic antiquity. The second
of these books, The Mythology and Rites of the British Druids,
contains, with much other interesting matter, the charming story of
Taliesin. Bryant's book on mythology was then in vogue, and Bryant,
in the fantastical manner so common in those days, found in Greek
mythology what he called an arkite idolatry, pointing to Noah's
deluge and the ark. Davies, wishing to give dignity to his Celtic
mythology, determines to find the arkite idolatry there too, and the
style in which he proceeds to do this affords a good specimen of the
extravagance which has caused Celtic antiquity to be looked upon with