Welsh Journals

vable in their handling of the language which they loved above all things. It is surely pathetic to find the Welsh writings of Gwallter Mechain, Carnhuanawc and others so heavily tainted with the style and mannerisms, even the grammar and syntax, of that alien domination against which they were fighting. A person named Symons, one of the commissioners sent by the English Government, ostensibly to inquire into the state of education in Wales in 1846-7, amongst other spiteful personal attacks on Carnhuanawc, went out of his way to refer to the Abergavenny Cym- reigyddion Society, adding "One of its distin- guished members has written a history of Wales, but couched in such antique phraseology that its sale, it is said, has never repaid the expense of printing it." We know on the authority of Carnhuanawc himself that the 2,000 copies of "Hanes Cymru" printed were sold, mostly to persons of the working classes, and the reception which the work obtained is well illustrated in "The Life and Opinions of Robert Roberts," just issued by Principal J. H. Davies; but the Govern- ment critic-who, by the way, does not seem to have learnt how to write his own language quite accurately-if he had known anything about the subject, and if it were held to come within his province, might justifiably have criticised the Welsh of Carnhuanawc, not because of its "antique phraseology," but because of its English idiom. The spirit of the work is noblv Welsh, but the language bears the stamp of compulsory English, with its own story of successive servil- Ynys yr Hud.* By Saunders Lewis. rr HERE is a paradox about Mr. Gruffydd's book of poetry which is worth exploring. Much has been said recently of the new influences in Welsh literature, our new contact with European thought, our emancipa- tion from merely English modes and ideas. There is some truth in this talk, but less than many critics suppose. Even among our young- est poets and prose-writers the influence of the fashionable English modes of the day before yesterday is still, as in Victorian Wales, only too obvious. And so, to any critic at all in touch with things, Welsh poetry, with its imi- tations of the early Masefield, of Ralph Hodgson, and W. H. Davies, must appear derivative and not important. And Mr. Gruffydd's new book seems grossly to reflect this weakness. Here we have a long poem in blank verse, which, with Ynys yr Hud, a Chaneuon Eraill." Gan W. J. Gruffydd. (E.P.C., Cardiff. 3/9). ties and superficialities. Carnhuanawc, however, was, without a doubt, one of the most remarkable men of his time, and one of the most loveable of all times. Independent, noble and generous, a competent scholar, a man of wide interests and sympathy, singularly free from jealousy or fear, altogether a remarkable personality. In reading through his life and literary remains, one is struck by his extensive knowledge, his sane judgment, his critical powers and philosophical mind. All this is amply borne out by the testimony of those who knew him. Writing of him after his death, Dr. Karl Meyer said "He was a genuine Welshman, perhaps the most amiable and interesting I ever met with, possessing in the highest degree that wonderful combination so peculiar to the Welsh character, of poetical intuition and analytical reasoning, of inspiration and irony, of bold scepticism and never shaking faith. He was a poet without knowing it, and the silent genius at the bottom of his soul was always more powerful still than the brilliant one he showed in his conversation." The editor of the LITERARY Remains says that Carnhuanawc would have objected to the attribu- tion to him of "bold scepticism." This is quite likely. Still, I think the German scholar right. It certainly wanted bold scepticism and a never shaking faith to do what Carnhuanawc did. One feels that it would have been a privilege to have known him and a certainty to have loved him. And yet, to-day, he is almost forgotten. its set similes and conventional use of place- names- "Sahara neu Swdan neu Samarcand," is simply an exercise in an English medium. Two poems are adaptations of the fashion of the "Spoon River Anthology"; one lyric bears the trade-mark of Swinburne, and another of Thomas Hardy. There is a translation from Chesterton, and a "Prayer to Autumn" which reflects the influences of Keats' "Autumn" and Shelley's "West Wind." Let it be said at once that there is a pleasure in all these poems. Merely the competence of the workmanship is a happiness. Mr. Gruffydd uses words with clean skill and bright economy. There is something cut and fine in all he writes. But his many imitations, his dependence on English models, and the assorted nature of the poets he copies, all this suggests the work of an artisan of verse, carv- ing without prejudice the designs of whatever artist chances to employ him. And here is the paradox. The first impression fades. Mr. Gruffydd's imitativeness has a dual function. It is in part just exercise, and the poet uses English models because they are near to