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insinuate thereby the plausibility, the absolute necessity of Cimmerian freebooting-subjugations, if not of Cimbric extermination, to prove thy then superior state of moral culture, as of thy humanising appliances of life, as a sort of posthumous excuse to civilise the isle and arrogate supremacy? Thou reckonest without thine host. Let Sharon Turner tell thee who and what a Saxon was in pirate days of yore;—what illiterate, what lawless, what COINless members of disturbed society thy very traitor chiefs and warriors were, without refining codes of honor, or principles of right and wrong, in the palmy days of Arthur and his Augustan age of bardic literature of Taliesin, of Aneurin, or of Llywarch Hen! How many centuries, yea, how many adventitious causes, ignored, unthanked, or seemingly unknown, led thee onward in the countless march of ages to produce a Spencer, or a Chaucer, or e'en a Caractacusian model of a British * Imperator gentium,' full six hundred years before our own Cimmerian galaxy of lettered stars above? Thy boasted princes were, for centuries, like those Miranda chants of, in his 'Lays of Portugal'—

"Dizem dos uossos passados
"Que os mais nao Sabiam ler;"


"So rude were our forefathers in the lore

"Of letters, that they scarce knew how to read."

There, utrinque, will I leave thee with thy wished-for records and authorities. Close my page: consult thine own. Truth and wisdom-lessons will be found therein, perhaps.

But this mode of action, as propounded by the foregoing questions, reminds me, and not inaptly, of an anecdote I once heard in Llyn-dan, Llyn-din, or Llyn-deyn, alias Troi-no-fant, since known under its plagiarised and corrupted forms of Lon-din-(um), Trinovant-(um), Lon-don, Lun-nun, or Lon-dres (the city lake) of the continent—an anecdote, I say, of three self-assured robbers of the

highways, S , D , and N , gloating in their pelf, who,

after having adroitly purloined the golden snuff-box of an Hibernian, conveyed the property, and passed it over, 'en regie,' from one accomplice to the other. One of these immaculate innocents in crime boldly and impudently asked him hailing from Ierne, the ultima Thule of the West, to have a look at his gold box, and take a pinch of his best ' Irish blackguard.' The Hibernian, at once and complacently, without the usual reserve and ridiculous hauteur of accidental pomposities, put his gentlemanlike hands in his pockets, and, to his dismay and cost, found the ancestral treasure of his clan non est inventus. What was to be done? A brilliant thought, peculiar to the isle that gave him birth, struck the party aggrieved. "How," addressing himself to his purloiner and plausible interrogationist, "how did you know, sir, that I look that peculiar kind of snuff at all? How were you aware it was gold and not silver?" A searching investigation took place before the tribunals of justice. The insult added to injury was exposed. A plea of alibi was impossible, though attempted, flagrante delicto. Another of the culprits had the impertinence, however, (say before Willi;im Yardley, Esq., P.M.,) to put forward another plea, and dared to swear that the Irish gentleman, his ancestors, and his neighbors, whether of Prydain or Celyddon, were and ever had been as poor as himself and his mates, with regard to golden ornaments or coinage of the realm, and alleging that, from certain Volusenian hints or inuendos, or some technical Scaligerian versions of the law about his family, he could not have possessed himself of such a golden appendage without having, as a prior particeps criminis, stolen it himself from some other favored and more distant golden lands, at least, he surmised as much—he thought so—was not quite sure—but when further cross-examined by the bar, he had heard so from Smith, Brown, or Kobinson, of the bankrupt firm of Hume, Maunder, and Co. "That will do, sir." Sentence was pronounced, and the trio were transferred to a QUOD, reserved by Justice, to conscientiously study the principles and relative value of' Whewel's Moral Right and Wrong.' Humanity expects the chaplains to do their duty.

Apply the moral and its process to the treasures ot our Caerau, our Castellau, and the fragmental gems of ourprehistoric literature.

Sic sacula sceculorum witnessed with amazement and with awe, if not with shudder, the Cimmerian nation in the pangs of life and death with the legions of the Roman world, in arms against the Sons of Earth—the true autochtons of the Isle. Natio tamen supervixit.

Thus, hundreds upon hundreds of years beheld the Cimmerian nation in the gasping throes of agony with the traitorous and unlettered hordes of Saxons and of Danes, the flattered angeli of Rome. It outlived the shock after all.

Ainsi siecles sur siecles saw and felt the plundering, burning armaments of Norman sway, of Norman tyranny of the deepest dye, goreing the life-blood of Cimmerian sons and daughters, sans relache, et sans remords. La nation a survecu malgre tout.

Similarly, century upon century heard the beating throbs of our own Britannia Antiquissima circumscribed to Cambria, in mortal combat with a now quadrupled league of amalgamated foes of Anglo-Saxon-cum-Danish-Norman usurpers of her virgin soil, with here and there a renegade from the Cimbric camp, bent on havock, ruin, death, and capture of her forts, her castles, and her strongholds—the hospitable bulwarks of her ageless freedom and renown. Yet withal the nation managed to exist.

Felly, oes ar ol oes looked down upon Cimmerian forts and castles, now reft of their invaluable bardic-druid treasures—now Gothishly dismantled orVandally levelled to the ground; or else, as safety swayed the after-thought, the—

"At Sevrepai ye (ppovrtSee ao(j>uTepai"

of tyrant this, or monster that, a series of years, of months, of weeks, became, each in their turn, a witness, in the cycle of events, to a few strongholds left behind as a base of future wrong to one, of future theft-monopolising-glory to the other nation, when a Roman, when a Saxon, or a Norman wing or tower, with a portcullis or a mound entrenched, was superadded to, or when, in other cases, novel piles—an Ossa on a Pelion, replaced or e'en enclosed the former British structure, on its vantageground of immemorial song. "Ti, Arglwydd ein D. TJ. W. fuost yn breswylfa i ni yn mhob cenhedlaeth."

Thus, here, as with the plagiarisms of our own distinctive tongue, the tulit-alter-honorem-principle has been, as ever, rife, as ever, exclusive. Trifles do, and do not, mark events. Knowledge of races and their habits, deductions based on scientific truths, are the surest landmarks of conjecture—the indications of the gloomy past. Truth oft becomes a base to fiction: but fiction claims not that of truth. A Roman, or a later Norman coin, for instance, (I am not aware of early or anti-Csesarean Saxon coins,) if casually found by an unreflective Anglo-Saxon, within the precincts of any fort or ground, though regardless of Britannic indications, as of coins, and heedless of its pre-occupancy of site by a former tenant, is made to stamp, at once and without reflection on his part, the aforesaid spot to be, or to have been, no other than the primary relics or exclusive foundation of either a Roman or a Norman structure. Thus the appliances of an artistic condition of life and msnners are thereby systematically ignored, if they do not sometimes become the sport of rhymesters, aided by the conjectural sneers of prosaic incompetency or of partial worth.

We shall test the validity, the antiquarian truth, of this Saxonic exclusiveness, of this perversion of facts, in reference to the cedificia, castella vel domus of the Antiquissimi Britanni. Amor patrise perditse demands it; vinclum veritatis honorisque enjoins it; vox Adamitica linquse Cimmericse condemns it.

But why? it may asked by those indifferent to OUR honor, why rake up the past and ope the wounds of time? We Cimmerians do it not. 'T is you, as a gallinacious tribe—a cackling order of ' Menura Annalists,' that crow defiance. 'T is you, as longtailed flocks of lyre-bird poets, essayists, babblers, that mock, insult, the whole Cimmerian race, with ' Beleck-beleck ' repetitions or concoctions of distorted views, or with stale, unerring caricatures of 'Balangara' minstrelsy, en fait d'un peuple fabuleux, sans lettres, sans habitations, et sans mceurs civilis6es.

As two of these accusations have been already disposed of to a certain extent, but to which other masses of evidence may still be adduced, to eradicate an indigested portion, at least, of the venom of the charge brought against one or other, we now proceed to cast a glance at the third, and endeavor de l'invisager by the reflex lights of triads and of bards, of antiquarian research and philological truth, independently of Cimbric and Armoric traditionary lore extant at this hour, to which I need not refer.

But where? I ask, en passant, where do we find, all this time, a faintest insight, the slightest trace, of Saxon literature ?—where, of Saxon artistic skill of any kind whatever,—and where, of Saxon laws and jurisprudence, like those of Dyfnwal Moelmud? This is, I am loth to say, a subject sore to tyrants of the past— to inflated bombasts of the present. If what I state as fact can be disproved, bring, O, bring, at once, such records of defiance, before the days of Alfred, or a Beda's Cadmon with his ode or hymn, to rebut the Barbarous spoliations of the past, the heartburning Coelbrennic demolitions of Bangor-ys-y-coed, &c, &c, with their untold Cimmerian literature, and a whole category of grievances sneeringly passed over and sapiently ignored, so as thereby to veil the deeds of wrong, and, on the bleeding relics of a Cimbric caer, a castell, or a dinas, with its respective anedd, ty, or trefaelwr, to hurl defiance to the proof, buried, as't was thought, 'oes ar ol oes,' or cantvlaiad after cant-vlaiad, beneath the cistfaen cinders of the dead, that still do live, reflected in their sons. 'Le roi ne meurt pas.'

The Preserver of our race, however, "moves in a mysterious way his wonders to perform." "He rides upon the storm" of nations, men, and things. HE brings to life and light of day, as already partly seen and felt—the very stones, the wood, the plants of Cimbric earth, as evidence surnaturel, in His court of law and equity, so that justice shall be done! Justice will be done, though not, perhaps, yr oll, within the compass of this age. For thee, my mother-tongue—the Eden-mother-tongue of all, a study-roll, un tour de role terrestre en France, ©ine SBiffenfdjaft gclernt in JDcutf^Ianb, is yet reserved for thee within the halls and colleges of earth. Thou that wert, and art, the parent, mother, nurse, of all the tongues that breathe and lisp a part of thee, as I hope one day to prove,—thy roots, unknown to roots of earth, are found in Hebrew, and the Remnants of the East. I saw and heard a glimpse of thee, thy power, and effect, within the secret folds of China and Japan. I find thee, too, in Malayan; as, also, in the Samoan, wherein they Navigate thy vocal bark. I found thee, years sgo, in the district, ground, orDARGWIN, the daerguyn, of the Murray, among the wci" and the mdriri' of the native tribes of the Weeradgua, as of Tatiara, Warrnambool, Yarra Yarra, and of Colnc. Thy presence here, thy presence there, as rays of solar light, piercing the chaos of humanity, unfolds (who can, who dares, deny?) the chosen Majesty of thy birth Supreme, Unique, on wandering, erring earth. But, to return, where thou didst speak, four thousand years ago, in all the comprehensive glow of native Deffrobanian warmth, by bards and sages of the Isle—an isle marked out for thee and thine as a final refuge from the storm, 'mid the castellated rocks, the fortclad hills, and domiciliated plains, of Prydain, northern Celyddon, or of Gwalia Fair—to guard thy sacred mission from on high. There! there! we now shall gladly sail, from land where gold, by accident alone, without labor, thought, or mind, is made a god in idol man, or deemed to make the man, and thence a friendly trip we 'll make again, across the straits, to cognate Bretons of Gomeric race, though far, though dim the distance be.

Now, let us, en route on the ocean of life, imagine two cognate or distinct nations, separated by the sea, speaking, from time immemorial, a language, either based on a partial or a unique similarity of lettered or acoustic principles, in a majority of primeval terms, or again characterised by a dissimilarity as regards foreign admixtures in others, but visible at once to the twofold eye of philology and traditionary observations in each.

A colony of such a brotherhood passing from one country to the other at different epochs of their history, whether prehistoric or historic, would but corroborate and give an untold force to such a primary amalgamation, to such a fixity of tenure, to such an expansion of domiciliated interests, as would be exemplified in a technical co-operation of ideas, through an already cognatelyunderstood uniformity of syllabic roots.

This friendly alliance of interests would, however, in the very nature of things, and in accordance with the usages of society in all ages, reciprocate or engender certain terms, if not already in existence, bearing definite meanings or mental forms peculiar to each other, as to sound and sense, with reference to the object so prehistorically denominated.

Among this allied race, therefore, would be found recondite and well-defined ideas (unknown to the copyists) living and presiding, so to speak, for untold ages, in animal and vegetable and inanimate matter, and untransportable by linqual denegators, i.e., in birds, beasts, fish, insects and worms of earth, peculiar to the locale of the then Cimmeric elements of earth, air, and water, on the one side; and in grains, trees, flowers, metals, and agricultural implements, on the other. Objects unknown to the wants and experience of the one, would, possibly, be either unrepresented in their vocabulary, or if afterwards employed in an interchange of actual service, they would, in some form or other, be made known and transferred to the understanding, either by a colinqual process of circumlocution, as the chistr of Cimmerian Gaul, by the

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