If the celebrated controversy between Black and White, which divided the Cymrian church in King Arthur's days, should seem to suggest a parallel instance in our own,—the Author begs sincerely to say that he is more inclined to grieve than to jest at a schism which threatens to separate from so large a body of the upholders of the English church the abilities and learning of no despicable portion of the English clergy. There is a division more dangerous than that between theologian and theologian—viz., a division between the Pastors and their flocks—between the teaching of the pulpit and the sympathy of the audience. Far from the Author be the rash presumption to hazard any opinion as to matters of doctrine, on which—such as Regeneration by Baptism—it cannot be expected that, for the sake of expediency or even concord, the remarkable thinkers who have emerged from the schools of Oxford should admit of compromise;—but he asks, with the respect due to zeal and erudition, whether it be worth while to inflame dispute, and risk congregations—for the colour of a gown?

[4.—Page 300, stanza lii.]

(If wine this be) ye come from Huerdan's shore.

Huerdan, i. e. Ireland, pronounced, in the Poem, as a dissyllable.

[5.—Page 306, stanza xcv.]

But never yet the dog our bounty fed
Betray'd the kindness or forgot the bread.

The whole of that part of Sir Gawaine's adventures, which includes the incidents of the sword and the hound, is borrowed (with alterations) from one of Le Grand's Fabliaux.

[6.—Page 307, stanza c.]

Of evil fame was Nannau's antique tree,
Yet styled the "hollow oak of demon race."

In the domain of Nannau (which now belongs to the Vaughans) was standing, to within a period comparatively recent, the legendary oak called Derwen Ceubren yr Ellyll—the hollow oak, the haunt of demons.