tion of our national character and manners. 66 I anticipate your remark-" Then why," you will say, " does a quietminded, bashful man, like you, attempt a task so arduous?"-" Because," I will answer, “ I feel quite convinced, that even the attempt is meritorious; and because (and why should I make any mystery of the matter with you?) I do think that my own advantages are such as to render me capable of effecting, at all events, a portion of my patriotic design." You know, my dear friend, that I have spent the springtide of my life among those green hills and smiling vallies, where the scenes of the following tales are laid. You know, moreover, that I have mingled freely and unreservedly with all classes of my countrymen-from old Owen Reece, my good uncle's shepherd, to the noble occupant of the neighbouring great house; that I have lived, as it were, among B 3 among the mountains-partaken of the boisterous and warm-hearted hospitality of the Welsh " laird"-danced, sang, laughed, flirted (no, I have not “bundled") with the lasses-and drank ale, kicked football, wrestled, and rioted with the lads. I have been indeed a willing participator in all the various pastimes and customs of the hill-side, from the festive revelry of the peasants' wedding, to the solemn simplicity of his affecting funeral. In addition to this, my mind, even at an early age, was duly imbued with a full perception and admiration of the wild and poetical superstitions of the country. "To me, a mountain youth, was known I knew the shriek of wizard caves, And the trampling fierce of howling waves; The mystic voice of the lonely night I had often drunk with a strange delight, And look'd on the clouds as they roll'd on high, Till with them I sail'd on the sailing sky." My My good old nurse, or rather fostermother, Lowry Williams-peace be with her!-left no means untried to cram my imagination to the brim, with incredible traditions, marvellous supernatural feats, - and all kinds of "chimeras dire." Nor did she labour in vain in her darling vocation; for I loved to listen to her wild and wonderful narratives, as she sat with me on her knee of a winter's evening, before the blazing wood-fire in the hall, at G. In short, I may say, in the words of the French visionary, somewhat altered to suit my present purpose-"Je connois les mœurs de ma patrie, et j'ai publié cette livre ;" and as I sin with my eyes open, on me, and on me alone, must rest the responsibility of the adventure. So much for my design. Now then, a few words as to its execution. In the first place, I shall be censured for an evident imitation of the author of the Scotch novels, a practice into which B 4 which many have fallen, but in which no one has hitherto succeeded. To this accusation I will plead guilty-to a certain extent, but no further; and this is my defence. When I first entertained the idea of writing these tales, I was well convinced that the best possible model was that of the Waverley novels, and I determined to adopt it. Had I confined myself to this particular, all would be well; but you tell me, that I have sedulously followed up the imitation, by a close adherence, not merely to character, but to incident, situation, and language-in fine, to every thing. This I cannot acknowledge; nor can I perceive that the two most striking personages in the tale bear any resemblance to the masterly and unrivalled creations of the "Great Unknown." Einion Edwards cannot, I think, claim fellowship, much less identity, with any of that author's personages; and Caddy of Cae Glâs, of a surety, has no proto type type in the whole series of his works. As to situations and incidents, there may indeed be some which will not bear rigid examination; but you know very well, Philip, bach, that such a resemblance is absolutely unavoidable, in this class of fictitious narrative; yet the public in general" will not, I am well aware, make any allowance for the author's crippled range, but impute the whole to negligence or design. 66 But, after all, my opinion with regard to this species of writing, is just this-the object being the delineation of national manners and national character, the quality of the canvas upon which such delineations are depicted, is a matter of minor importance. Thus, we ought not to require a well-sustained narrative, an exquisitely wrought plot, or a strict adherence to historical accuracy; and, if provided the interest be tolerably sustained, all flagrant errors sedulously avoided, the "keeping" correct, B 5 |