Abominable old system! I give thanks that I shall see the day when I dance upon your grave. It was not the schoolmistress who was to blame, but the system. She was a victim, just as I was. I was able to speak a language, but it wasn't used as a medium to educate me. I spoke one language and my headmistress spoke another — and I learned nothing. If it hadn't been for the Welsh Sunday School, I should today have been illiterate, having to depend on someone else for the means of salvation. I learned many languages thereafter, but no one was so foolish as to try teaching me except through the medium of the language I already knew. It is in Welsh that a Welsh child must be taught to think and through Welsh that he can be taught another language. I had one morning a week of Sunday School, and six days of English schooling. My testimony is this: I am indebted for everything to the Sunday School; to the English school, prior to a Welshman's coming to teach through the medium of Welsh, I owe nothing at all.
Clych Atgof ( Hughes a'i Fab, 1906)
None but the old, experienced traveller remembers that the next stage of the passage is the crossing of the Bay of Biscay; but I am not one to give the old Bay a bad name, for this is my home, and hateful is she who does not love the land, or sea, that bred her. 1 I had no need of a mother's hand to rock my cradle: I had the waves of the Atlantic for that. I have seen the old Bay in both its glowering and more genial moods so many times, and I am never happier than when I am in my native element.
Yet for the ordinary passenger the Bay of Biscay is a terrible bogey, and all regard it with fear and trembling.
There is one thing I have never understood — fear of the sea! For me, the divine and the infinite are to be found at sea more than in any other place. The mind and power of the great Sovereign are to be seen there on every hand; there is nothing save the little shell that