all, the entreaties of women and the invectives of Giraldus might have been spared, so far as concerns the particular expedition proposed by Henry II. That monarch never lived to carry out his intention of going to the Holy Land. In consequence of the delay that took place many were absolved from their vow of joining the crusading army; and among these was our author. But the Welsh mission did at least this good service, that it prompted Giraldus to write an account of it; and to it we are indebted in consequence for a life-like picture both of the country and of the times.

It

The Itinerary of Wales was dedicated to Stephen Langton, who had succeeded Baldwin as archbishop of Canterbury. was doubtless due to this fact that in this work Giraldus did not assume to himself all the credit for the success of the mission. He graciously allowed the head of the English church some little influence in bringing about the result for which they were both working. For any failure, however, to set forth in the Itinerary the surpassing excellence of his own services he took care to make up amply in the autobiography. Here he lets us know distinctly how great was the effect produced by his personal influence and eloquence. It was at Haverford, in the county of Pembroke, at a gathering of the clergy and laity, that he made his first speech. The archbishop of Canterbury had previously addressed the multitude; but to his urgent appeals to join the crusade few were found to respond. In surprise and sorrow he exclaimed: "O Lord, what a stiff-necked generation is this!" But the scene underwent an entire change as soon as the archdeacon of Brecknock had spoken. Giraldus informs us that on that occasion God had inspired him with so all-conquering a persuasiveness, so resistless an eloquence, that the very choicest representatives of the arms-bearing population hurried forward with eagerness to be signed with the sign of the cross. He divided his address into three parts; and the close of each he wound up with a powerful and impassioned appeal. Three perorations of this kind were too much for any audience to stand. So violent was the pressure to hasten and be enrolled among the soldiers of the church that the archbishop himself was scarcely able to keep off the crowd from his own person. A fever of enthusiasm had taken possession of

the multitude. Men wept under the intense excitement. Often afterward did the archbishop declare that never on any one day had he seen so many tears shed as on this occasion at Haverford. Though Giraldus asserts that this was all the Lord's doing, he likewise lets it plainly be inferred that the whole transaction was a particularly convincing evidence of the wisdom displayed by the divine agency in selecting the instruments best adapted to accomplish its work. It is made clear by this, he remarks, that the Spirit gives its inspiration where it pleases. and when it pleases; and he quotes with evident satisfaction an assertion of St. Jerome that the praises of the preacher are the tears of his auditors. It is to be added that these effective orations were all delivered in the French or the Latin tongue, neither of which languages few if any of the hearers could understand. His excessive vanity does not allow Giraldus to see the inference as to the actual influence of the oratory that would naturally be drawn from such a fact; and he recounts with great gravity a speech made to his kinsman, Rhys, the prince of South Wales, by a certain John Spang, a professional fool. "You ought," said the jester, "to be much in love with your relative, the archdeacon, because he has sent to-day a hundred or more of your people to the sepulchre of Christ; and I believe if he had spoken in the Welsh tongue not a single one of the whole multitude would have remained a subject of yours."

In numerous other places Giraldus does not suffer his modesty so to prevail over his love of the precise fact as to conceal from us the effect produced by his incomparably elegant addresses. Nor does he deny that the whole mission would have failed of success if it had been obliged to depend upon the tame appeals of others instead of his own finished and fervent oratory. According to him the archbishop was so impressed by his transcendent abilities, that he had selected him as the one to write the account of the expedition which was to recover the Holy Land from the grasp of Saladin and the Saracens. It is certainly to be regretted that this plan was never carried out. A history of a crusade, as told by Giraldus, in which he himself would have been almost certain to be the central figure about which kings and princes and minor per

sonages resolved, would have been a contribution to literature unique in its character and inexpressibly entertaining in its details. For Baldwin's judgment our author naturally had a great respect. He tells us how the archbishop read and re-read the Topography of Ireland which had been presented to him on his first entrance into Wales. The spiritual lessons which had been drawn from the facts of natural history, were in particular the subjects of special praise and almost indeed of reverent admiration. Giraldus takes occasion to glance aside at his critics in commenting upon the singular modesty and discretion of his ecclesiastical superior. Nothing would Baldwin say either in praise or blame of the work until he finished the whole of it; for well he knew how often the beginning differs from the middle and the middle from the end. But having read it through his praises were poured forth in profusion. He enjoined upon its author that the gift of this matchless style granted him by the Creator, should not be buried in a napkin; that his time should never be wasted, but should be spent in study and in writing, whereby his name might be handed down to after ages. For himself, the archbishop said he would gladly cherish such marvellous elegance of expression, did he possess it, more than earthly riches which were sure to perish or worldly dignities that would soon pass away. These, indeed, were vanity; whereas the works of our author were of the kind that never faded from the memory of man, but as time rolled on became dearer and more precious to the generations to come. It is in some such language as this that our author records the opinion of his superior, though his words are abbreviated. Indeed self-interest, to say nothing of inability, would be sufficient to prevent any wise man from undertaking the task of rendering literally into English anything reported by Giraldus in praise of himself. The most vigorous efforts of the translator would always seem tame and spiritless when contrasted with the enthusiasm and glow which pervade the commendations to be found in the original.

Let us return for a while from the autobiography to bibliog raphy. The first edition of the Itinerary of Wales appeared, according to its latest editor, in the spring or summer of 1191; the second with numerous additions which have no particular

reference to the subject, about 1197; the third after the summer of 1213. Among the writings of Giraldus this has conspicuous claims to attention. It is far from being a perfect work looked at from the purely literary point of view; for in the editions after the first the author managed to lug in any quantity of matter that had no particular connection with the account of the progress through Wales. It was not to be expected, indeed, that Giraldus should ever surrender an opportunity to adorn his narrative with a marvellous tale; and in particular, in the first of the two books of which this treatise is composed, we have the usual complement of monstrosities and miracles with which he was wont to regale his readers. He tells us of a spring running with milk; of a river flowing with wine; of fields suddenly ripening in the most obliging way, a month before the proper time, in order to supply the destitute with food; of a soldier, who not only went through the pains of labor, but gave birth to a calf; of unclean spirits infesting houses, throwing dirt on the occupants, cutting holes in their garments, and, worse than all, taunting the dwellers with the mean things of which they had been guilty. In particular he tells us of one demon in the shape of a red-haired young man, who gave his name as Simon. This one entered a mansion, dispossessed the steward, and proceeded to discharge the duties of the office himself, which he did in the most skillful manner. Indeed Giraldus gives such a glowing account of the conduct and management of the intruder, that one is disposed to sympathize with the spirit when he is turned away simply because he is discovered holding secret conversations at night in the neighborhood of a mill and a pool of water; for one feels that he is far from being the first or the last red-haired but worthy young man who has been accustomed to spend the hours after dark in a similar way.

But in spite of the marvellous tales which he inserted into his writings, this treatise was a most important one; and perhaps is surpassed in value only by another treatise which came out about 1194, treating of the Topography of Wales. This last work is remarkable for being free, comparatively speaking, from all extraneous matter. It is divided into two books, the first of which gives some account of the country

and of the character and virtues of the inhabitants, especially of their courage, their quickness of understanding, their generosity, and their devotion to the faith. But Giraldus was not one of those patriotic souls who loved his country and his countrymen so fervently that he could not see anything but their good qualities. In his own opinion he dwelt pretty near the serene summits of intellectual and moral elevation; and from these heights could look with a good deal of composure and critical skill upon the faults and follies of his fellow-beings, including his friends, who were painfully threading their way through the mazes of right and wrong on the plains below. If, therefore, he enlarged upon their virtues, he was equally eloquent upon their vices; and indeed, discusses his own people with that cosmopolitan impartiality which characterizes in so marked a degree the modern ideal citizen of the world. According to him the men of this nation were of the most fickle character. They were always ready to begin any new undertaking; and on the other hand they were just as ready to abandon it after it had once been begun. Constant in nothing but their inconstancy, they were upon the whole more tenacious in iniquity than in anything else. As they had no reverence for the truth, they did not pay the slightest deference to an oath. If anything could be gained by swearing to a lie, they were always ready to perjure themselves. No matter whether the cause was a civil or ecclesiastical one, each party was always prepared to swear to what was deemed expedient for its own side; and the only disgrace that could befall any one concerned in the transaction resulted not from the disposition manifested to tell a lie, but from the lack of skill that suffered any one to be caught in telling it. In addition to their deceitfulness, they were the most inveterate robbers imaginable. Every method of violating the eighth commandment, from petty thieving to grand larceny, was familiar to them; and they were equally impartial in exhibiting their accomplishments in this line not only upon strangers and enemies but likewise upon their personal friends. In battle at the first charge they were terrible in their impetuosity, their cries, and their appearance; but if the onset failed, they were easily thrown into disorder; and once really worsted they had no