ind that
it has been overdone. This is never, or hardly ever, the case with
Borrow, and it is so rare a merit, when it is found in a man who does
not shirk description where necessary, that it deserves to be counted to
him at no grudging rate.

But there is no doubt that the distinguishing feature of the book is its
survey of Welsh poetical literature. I have already confessed that I am
not qualified to judge the accuracy of Borrow's translations, and by no
means disposed to over-value them. But any one who takes an interest in
literature at all, must, I think, feel that interest not a little
excited by the curious Old-Mortality-like peregrinations which the
author of _Wild Wales_ made to the birth-place, or the burial-place as
it might be, of bard after bard, and by the short but masterly accounts
which he gives of the objects of his search. Of none of the numerous
subjects of his linguistic rovings does Borrow seem to have been fonder,
putting Romany aside, than of Welsh. He learnt it in a peculiarly
contraband manner originally, which, no doubt, endeared it to him; it
was little known to and often ridiculed by most Englishmen, which was
another attraction; and it was extremely unlikely to "pay" in any way,
which was a third. Perhaps he was not such an adept in it as he would
have us believe--the respected Cymmrodorion Society or Professor Rhys
must settle that. But it needs no knowledge of Welsh whatever to
perceive the genuine enthusiasm, and the genuine range of his
acquaintance with the language from the purely literary side. When he
tells us that Ab Gwilym was a greater poet than Ovid or Chaucer I feel
considerable doubts whether he was quite competent to understand Ovid
and little or no doubt that he has done wrong to Chaucer. But when,
leaving these idle comparisons, he luxuriates in details about Ab Gwilym
himself, and his poems, and his lady loves, and so forth, I have no
doubt about Borrow's appreciation (casual prejudices always excepted) of
literature. Nor is it easy to exaggerate the charm which he has added to
Welsh scenery by this constant identification of it with the men, and
the deeds, and the words of the past.

Little has been said hitherto of Borrow's more purely literary
characteristics from the point of view of formal criticism. They are
sufficiently interesting. He unites with a general plainness of speech
and writing, not unworthy of Defoe or Cobbett, a very odd and
complicated mannerism, wh