of Bremen’s Julin and Helmold’s Veneta, by an investigation of Othere’s Schiringsheal, and which I endeavoured to point out in a pamphlet I published in the German language, and a copy of which I had the pleasure of presenting, amongst others, to Professor Dahlman himself at the Germanisten Versammlung at Luebeck in 1847.  To return, however, to the Cwena land and sae, it is evident that the commentators, who are principally induced by their bearings to Sweon land to look upon the latter as the White Sea, have overlooked the circumstance that the same name is found earlier as an arm of the Wendel or Mediterranean Sea; and it is evident that one denomination cannot be taken in a double meaning; and therefore, when we find Alfred following the boundaries of Europe from Greece, “Crecalande ut on þone Wendelsae Þnord on þone Garsaege pe man Cwen sae haet”, it is certain that we have here an arm of the Wendel Sea (here mistaken for the ocean) that runs from Greece to the north, and it cannot also afterwards be the White Sea.  It will be necessary to bring this, in conformity with the subsequent mention of Cwen-Sae, more to the northward, which, as I have just said, has been hitherto principally attended to.

In Welsh topography no designation scarcely recurs oftener than Gwent (or, according to Welsh pronunciation, and as it may be written, Cwent) in various modifications, as Gwyndyd, Gwenedd, Gynneth, Gwynne, &c. &c.; and on the authority of Gardnor’s History of Monmouthshire (Appendix 14.), under which I willingly cloak my ignorance of the Welsh language, I learn that Gwent or Went is “spelt with or without a G, according to the word that precedes it, according to certain rules of grammar in the ancient British language, and that Venedotia for North Wales is from the same root.”  The author might certainly have said, “the same word Latinized.”  But exactly the same affinity or identity of names is found in a locality that suits the place we are in search of:  in an arm of the Mediterranean stretching from Greece northwards; viz. in the Adriatic, which had for its earliest name Sirus Venedicus, translated in modern Italian into Golfo di Venezia.

Of the multitudes of authorities for this assumption I need only mention Strabo, who calls the first settlers on its northern end (whence the whole gulph was denominated) [Greek:  Everoi]; or Livy, who merely Latinizes the term as Heneti, lib. i. cap. i., “Antenorem cum multitudine Henetum.”  With the fable of Antenor and his Trojan colony we have at present no further relation.  The name alone, and its universality at this locality, is all that we require.  I shall now show that we can follow these Veneti (which, that it is a generic name of situation, I must now omit to prove, from the compression {179} necessary for your miscellany) without a break, in an uninterrupted