triumph over such adversaries as these. Perhaps I ought to ask
pardon of Mr. Nash, whose Taliesin it is impossible to read without
profit and instruction, for classing him among the Celt-haters; his
determined scepticism about Welsh antiquity seems to me, however, to
betray a preconceived hostility, a bias taken beforehand, as
unmistakable as Mr. Davies's prepossessions. But Mr. Nash is often
very happy in demolishing, for really the Celt-lovers seem often to
try to lay themselves open, and to invite demolition. Full of his
notions about an arkite idolatry and a Helio-daemonic worship, Edward
Davies gives this translation of an old Welsh poem, entitled The
Panegyric of Lludd the Great:-

'A song of dark import was composed by the distinguished Ogdoad, who
assembled on the day of the moon, and went in open procession. On
the day of Mars they allotted wrath to their adversaries; and on the
day of Mercury they enjoyed their full pomp; on the day of Jove they
were delivered from the detested usurpers; on the day of Venus, the
day of the great influx, they swam in the blood of men; {29} on the
day of the Sun there truly assemble five ships and five hundred of
those who make supplication: O Brithi, O Brithoi! O son of the
compacted wood, the shock overtakes me; we all attend on Adonai, on
the area of Pwmpai.'

That looks Helio-daemonic enough, undoubtedly; especially when Davies
prints O Brithi, O Brithoi! in Hebrew characters, as being 'vestiges
of sacred hymns in the Phoenician language.' But then comes Mr.
Nash, and says that the poem is a middle-age composition, with
nothing Helio-daemonic about it; that it is meant to ridicule the
monks; and that O Brithi, O Brithoi! is a mere piece of
unintelligible jargon in mockery of the chants used by the monks at