emblem of "the pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious warfare."

Bid las lluarth!

Let the spot grow green again whereon the stood
army

The concise expression of a most humane and benevolent wish: for certainly he who makes two blades of grass grow where only one grew before, is a greater benefactor to his country than the most renowned conqueror that ever lived, from Alexander to Napoleon. If the Society of Friends could be induced to adopt the vanities of armorial bearings, "Bid las lluarth" would form an excellent motto for them; and may the potentates of Europe never forget its humane principles!

From bid, let it be, we have the derivation of the two English words bide, and be.

Lluarth, seems to be a compound word formed of llu, an army, and arth, a hilly place.

Syn ar dyhún.

Take care of thyself.

The motto of the Wilkins' family.

Rhin tridyn cannyn a'i clyw.

The secret of three men a hundred will hear.

Haws llosgi ty n'ai adeilad.

A house is easier burnt than built.

A prudent caution against fire, which cannot be too often repeated, and would form a good inscription over every chimneypiece and on every candlestick.

From haws, we have ease, aise in the French; and from adeilad, changing the first d into b, abeilad, we may perhaps have derived the English verb to build.

Haws toliaw na huriau.

It is easier to save or put by, than to hire at a price.
Facilius parcere quam mercede conducere.

From "huriau" we have "hire."

Eilfam modryb dda.

A good aunt is another mother.

From modyrb, "moder," or "mother," has probably been taken; "modryb" being used as a term of respect to aged ladies. Eil, in "Eilfani," is the radix of the Latin alius, and the English else.

Golwg Dduw ar adyn.

The eye of God is on the poor idiot.

How expressive of the tender mercies of Divine Providence, in ever extending the wings of its special protection over those helpless and unhappy beings, who, having lost the use of their reason, are continually exposed to a thousand accidents! and how forcible is the term adyn, not a man, to signify an idiot, formed of the privative particle a, and dyn a man!

Drych i bawb ei gymmydog.

Speculum cuique suus proximus.

Every man's neighbour is his looking-glass.

Learn to be wise by others' harm,

And you shall do full well.

Cryd ar hen angeu ys dir.
Febris in sene mors certa.

A fever is certain death to the old.

The art of medicine has been much improved since the date of this old Welsh proverb. But though a fever is not now considered absolutely as certain death to those far advanced in years, yet to such it is never unaccompanied with some degree of danger.

From angeu, or as it is sometimes spelled angau, we have the word anguish, as signifying mortal anguish, though Johnson deduces it from the French angiosse, but it must be remembered that the language of the Gauls (the old French,) and the Welsh, have the same common origin, the Celtic.

The

yes

A fo da gan Dduw ys dir.

Quod visum est Deo, certum.
What seems good to God is certain.

ys, in these two last proverbs, gives us the etymology of
and is, in modern English.

Dos y Fynyw (Mynyw) ddwywaith, ac Rhufuin unwaith,
Ar un elw cryno y gai di yma ac yno.

Meneviam si bis, et Romam si semel ibis,
Merces æqua tibi, redditur hic et ibi.

This proverb is a little obscure, unless is means that two visits to St. David's are as good as one to Rome. It does not appear in Dr. Davies's Collection of Welsh Proverbs; but it is cited by Charles Edwards, in his " Hanes y Fydd."

Chwyl gan nos.

The wheel at night.

This recommendation of the spinning-wheel at the close of day conveys an excellent precept of rural industry; and suggests to us the Welsh origin of the English word which designates this domestic rotatory machine.

Gwell hir weddwdod, no drwg briod.

Better a long widowhood thau a bad spouse

From "weddwdod," which is literally "widowhood," we have "widow" and "wed;" briod, "bride;" and from drwg," drug," that is bad stuff, any thing without worth or value, according to Johnson's definition of the word.

Moch dysg Nawf mab hwyad.

The duck's son soon learns to swim.

The children of persons skilled in any art or science, soon acquire their father's attainments.

This is a proverb rich in etymologies.

Moch, quickly, soon, with much speed, gives us the parentage of much; at least, with as much probability as the mucho of the Spaniards. Nawf, swimming, is the original of the old French nef; a ship of the English nave, navigation, and perhaps of the Latin navis. Dysg, to learn, the Romans lengthened into disco; and the English into discretion, disciple, discernment, &c. Mab, in the diminutive, maban, or baban, gives us babe and baby; and hwyad, a duck, is composed of hwy, (whence the English high;) and yad, or iad, the " sinciput," or head; quasi, longhead. So that the English word head, seems to be derived, through the Saxon, from the ancient British iad, having the same sense. The pronunciation of this word, at this day, by the illiterate vulgar in the marshes of Wales, particularly in Herefordshire, strengthens the conjecture, where we have often heard a clown drawl out, " Hold up thy yiad, mon." Pronunciation is ever more durable than orthography.

Ffol pob tlawd.

Stolidus quisque pauper.

Every poor man is a fool.

What variety of condensed reflection is compressed in these three short monosyllables!

The proverb admits of a double interpretation. In the first place, it intimates that every poor man is a fool, inasmuch as every one being the architect of his own fortune, it is in some measure his own fault, or his own folly, if he does not succeed in life, but remains or becomes poor.

XVII.

C

Again, in another sense, it proclaims the melancholy truth, that all the poor man does is ridiculous; all he says is answered with petulant contradiction, or stifled with the listless indifference of cold neglect, and inattention; whilst the stale joke, the thrice-told tale, the vapid inanity of the rich, are ever listened to with riveted attention, and received with rapturous applause. But " Ffôl pob tlawd." Every poor man is a blockhead!

Fool, and folly, are undoubtedly the offspring of this ancient British word ffôl; and there is no reason for adjudging either of them a French filiation, with Johnson.

Gwell crefft na golud.

Better a mechanical trade than riches.

A handicraft, or trade, is better than gold.

Here we have the derivation of craft, from crefft;* and of gold, from golud.

Caledach glew na maen.

A valiant man is harder than a stone.

Camden tells us that Scotland obtained its honourable title of Caledonia, or the country of strong men, from this Celtic caled, hard or hardy.

The English word glue, a strong viscous cement, by which things are made to adhere strongly together, is derived from the Welsh glew, strong, that which makes strong and solid; so glud signifies glue, and paste in the Welsh, Cornish, and Armoric.

Dyweddi o wng, galanas o bell.

Conjugium è propinquo, inimicitia è longinquo.

Marry near, but quarrel far.

That is, choose your wife from among the circle of your near acquaintance; but carry your wrath to a distance, against the enemies of your country.

From dyweddi, as before observed, we have wed and wedding. The root is gwedd, a yoke; quasi, the yoke of matrimony. May we venture to suggest the possibility that the English word bell may be derived from the Welsh pell, or bell, afar off; the bell being an instrument used to call or summon those who are at a distance. If so, it is the radix of the Latin ap-pell-o, to call, &c.

* We differ from our ingenious correspondent in the etymology of the word "craft," craft is evidently formed from the verb "crave" to be in need of, whence the usage and meaning of "craft" is, by an obvious analogy, deduced.

Goreu meddyg meddyg enaid.

The best physician is the physician of the soul.

Meddyg is evidently the etymon of the Latin medicus, a physician, and consequently of the English words medicine and medical; and we are induced to ascribe the prior origin to the Welsh word, because meddyg can be resolved satisfactorily into its primary component elements, sufficiently explanatory of its sense and meaning; whereas from medicus we can extract nothing, but that it was an arbitrary term of convention among the Romans to signify a physician, or medical man. Meddig is formed of medd, mead, and ig, a sob or groan. That is, mead to those who groaned in the agony of acute bodily pain or disease. Mead, we know, was the favorite potation of our ancestors. Νο wonder then that, in the simplicity of ancient times, they should have considered it an universal panacea for every ig, i. e. for every complaint; so that to give the mead again, to remede the patient, was held so certain a cure as to obtain the name of remedy, or, with a fine sonorous Roman termination, remedium. Doctor Mead was considered the best physician. A more appropriate or more honourable title, therefore, could not be given to a doctor of physic than meddyg. Thus metheglin is formed of " meddyg," a physician; and "llyn," liquor; quasi, the medical liquor. We find Hippocrates prescribed hydromel as a common beverage to patients labouring under a fever, when there was no tendency to delirium. The English word meed, in the sense of a reward, recompense, gift, or present, seems to be derived from the same source; for what more acceptable gratuity could be offered than a draught of mead, which Ossian esteemed so highly, as to term it "the pride and strength of shells."

From the following line, in a very ancient Caledonian manuscript of the eighth century, cited by Llwyd, it appears that this liquor was called med in the old Gaelic.

Cet iben med nouel.*

Let the nobles, or the men of renown, drink mead together.

As mead was the only intoxicating liquor known to our early ancestors, meddwi signified to be drunk, to be intoxicated, literally to be meady, to be in mead, as we say now to be "in liquor."

* Cet, let; nouel, the nobles; iben, drink, (literally put into their head, i ben ;) med, mead. It is singular that every word of this ancient Celtic line should so nearly resemble the modern Welsh or modern English.