a large ignorance
of the archdeacons of the twelfth century--when it was a question
solemnly discussed among the learned--whether an archdeacon could
possibly be saved. It would be well if there were nothing worse to
bring against them than such an innocent fraud on the public as this.
But the strongest argument against the existence of the Britannic book
is (not that it is not extant now, but) that the historians of the
next generation never saw it. Geoffrey's History at once created a
tremendous stir in the literary world--nor was it accepted on
trust--but received with suspicion and incredulity. Thus William of
Newburgh, in the latter part of the twelfth century, calls Geoffrey
roundly, "a saucy and shameless liar." William, of course, did not
know Welsh, and could not have made anything out of the Britannic
book, even if he had seen it. This objection does not apply to
Giraldus Cambrensis; his knowledge of Welsh was indeed slight--but he
had plenty of Welsh-speaking relatives and friends, and he was himself
a collector of manuscripts. Gerald refers to "the lying statements of
Geoffrey's fabulous history," and implies in a much-quoted passage
that he regarded Geoffrey's history as a pack of lies. Speaking of a
Welshman at Caerleon who had dealings with evil spirits, and was
enabled by their assistance to foretell future events, he goes on: "He
knew when any one told a lie in his presence, for he saw the devil
dancing on the tongue of the liar. If the evil spirits oppressed him
too much, the Gospel of St. John was placed on his bosom, when like
birds they immediately vanished; but when the Gospel was removed, and
the History of the Britons by Geoffrey Arthur was substituted in its
place, the devils instantly came back in greater numbers, and remained
a longer time than usual on his body and on the book." Geoffrey may
very probably have used some Britannic manuscript, but it could not
have been very ancient; and he certainly did not translate it, but
used it as he used Gildas and Bede and Nennius--sometimes quoting
their statements, more generally amplifying them almost beyond
recognition.

Was Geoffrey merely an inventor? Sometimes--undoubtedly. The long
strings of names of purely fictitious princes whom the Roman Consul
summoned to fight against King Arthur, at a time when in sober history
Justinian was Roman Emperor, are invented by Geoffrey. And consider
too his parodies of the practice of historians of referring