prayers; and he gives this counter-translation of the poem:-

'They make harsh songs; they note eight numbers. On Monday they will
be prying about. On Tuesday they separate, angry with their
adversaries. On Wednesday they drink, enjoying themselves
ostentatiously. On Thursday they are in the choir; their poverty is
disagreeable. Friday is a day of abundance, the men are swimming in
pleasures. On Sunday, certainly, five legions and five hundreds of
them, they pray, they make exclamations: O Brithi, O Brithoi! Like
wood-cuckoos in noise they will be, every one of the idiots banging
on the ground.'

As one reads Mr. Nash's explanation and translation after Edward
Davies's, one feels that a flood of the broad daylight of common-
sense has been suddenly shed over the Panegyric on Lludd the Great,
and one is very grateful to Mr. Nash.

Or, again, when another Celt-lover, Mr. Herbert, has bewildered us
with his fancies, as uncritical as Edward Davies's; with his neo-
Druidism, his Mithriac heresy, his Crist-celi, or man-god of the
mysteries; and above all, his ape of the sanctuary, 'signifying the
mercurial principle, that strange and unexplained disgrace of
paganism,' Mr. Nash comes to our assistance, and is most refreshingly
rational. To confine ourselves to the ape of the sanctuary only.
Mr. Herbert constructs his monster,--to whom, he says, 'great
sanctity, together with foul crime, deception, and treachery,' is
ascribed,--out of four lines of old Welsh poetry, of which he adopts
the following translation:-

'Without the ape, without the stall of the cow, without the mundane