am afraid that he finds the air too cold for him. However, this may be all fancy. But what is it that interrupts the progress of the illustrious man of the Amphitheatre? Ha! ha! ha! He is troubled with notions about the meum and tuum; and, though the gate is wide open, he seems inclined to ride round for fear of hurting the ploughed field. That scruple I am glad to see is at last satisfied; for the old farmer himself, out of a delicate respect to whose feelings he is pausing, is at the gate, ready to die with laughter at the poor man's metropolitan conscience. Alas! but there is a gate at the other end of the field, which is not open. Two-thirds of the hunt have already cleared it; one is lying at the foot of it, one is at this moment earning a somerset; but where, oh, where, is Mr. Ducrow? I blush for the honour of Astley when I say it he is sneaking through a hole in the hedge. However, he has grounds for his hope that no self. Ten minutes more have elapsed, and the hounds have reached a mill-dam. The foremost man, and that is Sir Francis Burdett, holds his breath, for a moment, at the sight; but it is only twenty-one feet, and what is that to an English sportsman? So he is over, and close behind him, (for this is no party question, agitur de cauda et sanguine vulpis, and all minor considerations are forgotten,)-close behind him, we say, comes his great Tory opponent, and he, too, has crossed the dam. But; oh! which of the goddesses or the caricaturists will describe to us the face of Mr. Ducrow, when he only looks at the horrible gulph which others have passed? And who will tell to us the burning words by which he forswears, then and thereafter, all communion with the race of English Nimrods? And who shall tell us in what language he made intelligible to the manager, that riding three horses in a circus at Astley's is another thing altogether from riding one at a fox-chase in Leicestershire?

THE ATHENEUM.

country? Important they are, doubtless, in their
far as they supply illustrations of national feelings.
consequences, and interesting in themselves, so
The time, however, for describing these feelings,
and calculating the influences which affect them,
is not yet come, and will not come till the tu-
mults which furnish us with the data are passed
away. And, as for the results of this wild war-
fare, all we can do is to hope that the Provi-
dence which shapes our ends' will bring some
good out of it in spite of the rough hewing of the
politicians of all sects and parties. At present,
been taught by these occurrences, and that is the
there is but one very evident lesson which has
need-the absolute need-of safer and firmer
principles, not only in the rulers of the land, but
in all that write and think upon political questions.
have seen the advocates of all the parties in the
How is it that, within the last few weeks, we
ing all their old premises with each other; and
one saw him except my-state-Whigs, Tories, and Radicals-interchang-
yet, because they hold fast by the conclusions of
which these premises are the professed founda-
tions, vaunting of their unshaken consistency?
How is it, but because names and badges are
the things which pass among us for principles;
because adherence to these things, which are in
their nature transitory, is the compensation with
us for the want of that which is in its nature
man does shift his colours, he is denounced by
permanent? And why is it, that, when a states-
three fourths of the country as an apostate, and
that even good and wise men are doubtful whether
they ought not to ratify the decision? Why is it,
but because the country feels, because good and
wise men feel, that the statesmen of our day have
prescribe to them when the opinions which were
none of that sound principle within, which can
by change of circumstances, become inapplicable;
the outward and temporary expression of it have,
statesmen has been always pinned to the blue
because they know that the character of these
habit of wearing, and that it will not come off
or green cockade which they have been in the
when expedience demands that they should throw
that cockade away. The sad truth, we fear, is,
that our politics are all empirical. The great
business being to advance in the world, and the
short roads to knowledge being, of course, univer-
sally preferred, young men prepare themselves for
public life, not by general reading, not by studying
the relation in which an age stands to past times,
racter, and the peculiarities of our own, as denoted
not by investigating the diversities of national cha-
especially by our institutions, not by studying what
modification that character has undergone, and
from all these data inferring what it is expe-
dient to retain and what to amend, in the state
which they are to administer,-no, but getting
up by just the three or four leading questions
ledge from the very points which should be tried
of the day, thus fetching their political know-
by it. And what is the consequence? The young
statesman comes into Parliament, makes a speech,
in which, if the conclusions be right, the argu-
ments in most cases are quite untenable, is
provided the results suit the taste of his party?)
loudly applauded, (for what signify principles,
and is numbered among the rising men of his
side. In a few sessions, perhaps, he falls into com-
by an argument sufficiently common-place, but
pany with a cleverer man than himself, is upset
which he had never considered, comes down to
Parliament, recants in a speech probably contain-
ing as many groundless assertions and fallacious
the other side of the House, and becomes one of
reasons as the former, is applauded to the echo by
its rising men; or else, being extremely flattered
by his own party, he cleaves to the opinion of his
boyhood, binds himself to it for older, for younger,
for better, for worse, becomes an idol and a lead-
ing Minister-finds that the opinion does not
suit his new circumstances, and abandons it.*

Now, what Mr. Ducrow is to an old English ox-hunter, such, it seems to us, is Mr. Sidney Smith to an old English wit. True, he can play all kinds of horsemanship antics, of which they were utterly ignorant; but can he ride right forwards, as they did, over fence, ditch, and brake, conscious of a strength and a bravery which no difficulty can weaken, no terrors appal? Oh no! he is a safe rider; he is conscious at every moment of what he is about; he never stirs a step further than he can see his way. If cleverness and agility constitute a wit, he is one; but, if there is needed besides, strength and power and freedom of soul, we must look, not to Scotch reviews, or Courts, or dining-tables, but to another age, an age, when, besides wit, we had other good things that have deserted us-thought, and feeling, and genius. From them wit proceeded; it was one of their myriad voices, and it uttered a music fit for the feasts of the Gods. It has since become the monotonous jingling of a cap and

bells.

LORD REDESDALE'S PAMPHLETS.
Nine Letters to Lord Colchester on the Catholic Question.
Ridgway. London, 1829.

WE should be wanting in the respect which is due to the legal and general reputation of Lord Redesdale, if we passed over without notice the series of pamphlets which he has transmitted to us. We shall, however, merely notice them; for it is a conviction which recent events have impressed most deeply upon our minds, that those consult very ill the dignity of literature, who allow it in any wise to take part in the broils of the passing hour. He who divides literature and political science, must be an enemy to one or the other an enemy to literature, if he would take away from it history, which is one of the brightest jewels in its crown; an enemy to political science, if he would place it upon any other foundation than a study of history. But what fellowship is there between the science of politics and the controversies which are at present agitating this

feres, as we have no reason to suppose it will, with
* Unless Sir Robert Inglis's return for Oxford inter-

[No 71.

tainly; but the misfortune is that the empiricism And is it not an act of duty in a statesman to abanof modern politicians, leaving them no principles don an opinion which is no longer tenable? Cercases, the effect of crime. Their own image and to fall back upon when their creed is found to be superscription is stamped upon the most worthless erroneous, gives to what would be virtue in other coin in their possession; and, when they fling that of their penury all that they have. coin into the devil's treasury, they are casting in

mentioned, has suffered most grievously during the in Parliament, which, from the causes we have Wetrust, for the sake of the morality of the leaders long discussion of the Catholic Claims, and still morality seems likely to suffer worse from the more for the sake of the lower classes, whose passions, that the promised settlement of the appeals which have been addressed to their worst accident, Question will not be delayed by any unforeseen

matter ofhistory, and when it will, by consequence, have lost its interest for the scribes of party, it When it has become, as we trust it soon will, a it does not possess, for the political student. We shall then think that it falls within the limits of will begin to acquire an interest, which at present our province to examine its bearings very attenbeen urged on both sides of the question, and far the larger part of the arguments which have which, in the eagerness of controversy, have been tively. We shall then endeavour to show that by laid hold of without the least ceremony, will not bear the slightest examination. We shall discuss the claim of abstract right in the Catholics to be relieved from their disabilities, and, under the sam head, shall endeavour to show to what degree then consider whether the principle of the Roand exclusion from political power. We shall a real distinction does exist between persecution mish Church is or is not unfriendly to civil gois sometimes stigmatised as the vulgar opinion. bly assign our reason for acquiescing in what vernment; and on this point we shall probaWe shall then consider whether the opinion which some of our contemporaries have expressed, that the controversy was, in any view of the case, a trifling one, a mere big-and-little Endian dispute,' be or be not founded in reason, and shall strive to convince our readers that scorn for vulgar opinions has led the advocates of liberal opinions, as scorn always does lead those the fears of the enemies of Emancipation respectwho indulge it, into an absurdity, seeing that, if ing the consequences to the principle of the Constitution of admitting Catholics into the Legislature are well founded, it would be no less

weak an

likely to be admitted does not exceed ten or answer to say, that the number fifteen, than it would be to tell a man who drop off, from the loss of the linch-pin that believed that the wheel of his carriage would it did not exceed two inches in diameter. We shall, hence, be led to consider whether these arguments of danger are well founded or chievous, and blasphemous, the assertion in the not. And, having first removed, as false, misis endangered by concessions, and endeavoured Duke of Newcastle's letter, that religion, as such, sition to the claims, have never urged that the acquitted of all interested motives in their to show that the clergy, who must, therefore, be should certainly rejoice in that event. oppoplace, we think it would have been scarcely creditable the success of the promised Bill of Emancipation, we change of opinion which the election of Mr. Peel would to the University to have exhibited the very sudden In the first by the vulgar attempts of the papers to decry Sir have indicated; in the second, we think it was due to its character, as a religious body, not to be influenced Robert Inglis, because he was more religious than his neighbours; and lastly, we think every one who has read any of Sir Robert Inglis's and Mr. Peel's speeches must be convinced that the former, however misjudging in one point, is a man who has both read and thought more generally than his opponent.

Establishment is the part of the Constitution that will be affected by these concessions; we shall proceed to discuss the more plausible assertion that the principle of the Constitution will be overturned by it. We shall maintain the opinion established by Lord Plunkett, a few nights ago, that the first principle of the Constitution is, that a certain position in property and intelligence shall be the only requisites for admission into the Legislature, and that the principle of excluding the Catholics was a necessary departure from the primary principle. We shall, then, lastly argue that the whole question resolves itself into this, does the danger to the Constitution which must be occasioned by a persevering departure from its fundamental axiom, a danger increasing every hour, as the departure becomes wider, in consequence of the accumulation of property in the hands of the Catholics-exceed or fall short of the dangers (we admit them to be real,) which must be apprehended from the hostility of the Popish faith to civil government; when, against these dangers, are to be set off the fact, that this hostility is apparently as active as it ever can become, that there is no power of quelling it by any means except concession, and that there is a chance, at least, of its being quelled bythat. These arguments have been often urged before, but it is now needful to separate the chaff from the wheat. The performance of this duty we shall eserve, as we have said before, for the time when it shall have ceased to be a practical subject of debate, and when it will be of high consequence to see that the temporary agitation of it has not been left any permanent errors in our minds.

RELIGION AND MORALS OF THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY.

Geiler von Kaisersberg's Leben, &c.—The Life, Doc

trines, and Discourses of Geiler of Kaisersberg. By F. W.P. Von Ammon. 8vo. Erlangew: Palm and

Enke. 1828.

gical portions of the work before us afford, in
this respect, an unequivocal evidence that the Re-
formation was more than partially preached before
its thunders shook the Vatican, whilst they enable

us to discern the source whence the lower Rhine

became affected in the first hour, with the taint

of its damnable illuminations,'

Geiler von Kaisersberg was born at Schaffhausen, in the year 1446, and educated by his grandfather in the town, from which his surname of Kaisersberg is derived: he took his degree as Doctor of Theology at Basle, in 1472, and acquired so much celebrity by his eloquence in the pulpit, he died in the year 1510,) made an addition to the that the municipal council at Strasburg, (where number of its preachers, for the special purpose of securing the benefit of his ministry to their fellow-citizens. His mind, indeed, was early convinced of the superior importance of the duty of the preacher, as compared with that of the mere prælector of the mass; and, if we leave out of view those few points in which it was scarcely to be expected that he should not have been influenced by the manners, usages, and prejudices of his times, and content ourselves with contemplating him in the full richness of his own great and independent mind, he will appear before us as one of those master-spirits in whom great depth of intellect is blended with considerable originality and an unwonted power of imagination. And more than this: he felt at all times a fervent sense of the awful responsibility of his calling, and applied himself with a most sincere zeal, to manifest his feeling by activity in well-doing, no less as an individual than as a minister of religion.

The peculiar quality of his eloquence is an exhaustless fund of wit, from which he derived a singular love of allegory and comparison: when, for instance, he is laying down rules for the guidance of a pilgrim, he is not forgetful of the faithful dog who becomes the wayfarer's sentinel and companion. Neither is he blind to the beam in his own eye, where he says,

'We, preachers, doom all mankind to penalty and punishment; but, if a solitary syllable be breathed against our own persons, our stomach refuses to digest it.'

And he styles those ministers

'the preachers of Satan, who, instead of speaking the
truth, confine themselves to what tickles the ear,

become toad-eaters to their auditors.'

and

From other passages, we may gather no imperfect idea of the manners and social order of things towards the close of the fifteenth century. He gives the higher classes to understand, that

WHEN the bones of Wicliffe were taken out of their grave, forty years after his decease, and then burned, and their ashes committed to the waters of the Swift, it was conceived by his enemies that this public desecration of his remains would consign his name and doctrines to contempt and general abhorrence. But a far contrary effect arose out of this act of posthumous vengeance: it roused the minds of many to deeper inquiry, it awakened a more indignant and steadfast feeling of attachment to the memory of the Lollard leader on the part of his immediate followers; and it drew upon his opinions the eyes of the nation at large, at a time when they were beginning to penetrate the mist of guile and error, to which the Roman hier-It is foolishness to carry their heads high because of archy owed its dominion over men's consciences and estates. No exposition of the consequences of this deed can rival the pithy and felicitous comment which it has received from the pen of the amiable Fuller: "This brook, (the Swift,)' says he, conveyed his ashes into Avon, Avon into Severn, Severn into the narrow seas; they into the main ocean; and thus the ashes of Wicliffe are the emblem of his doctrine, which is now dispersed all the world over.'

This was the stream from which Cobham and Peacocke imbibed a spirit urging them to an exposure of ecclesiastical abuses and corruptions: but, happier than either in the personal result of their temporal warfare, though akin to both in the bold discernment with which they conducted their spiritual assaults, were their contemporaries, the illustrious Erasmus, and that less known oppugner of papal misrule to whose opinions we are desirous of inviting the attention of our readers. If political convulsion be the effect of a series of gradually accumulated causes, it will be acknowledged that the work of the Reformation was not the issue of a sudden, but of a progressive amelioration and enlightenment of the popular mind on the most important questions which could agitate it,-liberty of conscience, purity of faith, and just views of the Gospel Revelation. The theolo

their noble blood: for it is like a nest of wasps that
falls from a good tree; there grow many similar nuts
on an apple-tree. In our days nothing is left of no-
kernel, and that kernel is full of worms. There is
bility but the name; nothing but the shell without the
neither virtue nor discretion, nor sense of honour or
gentleness, nor love for inferiors, extant among the
nobles. They are all boastful of the name, but un-
mindful of the deed.'

To the magistrate he says,

'It is the way of the world that men should no longer fear or abhor to do wrong; but those who suffer, and speak the truth, these are they who tremble, and live in fear of punishment for their offence.'

No wonder that our worthy monitor lived and died in the solitudinaryism of single-blessedness, when even the fair became the frailer sex beneath his uncompromising integrity.

It is a great thing,' says he, 'when a woman is honest for aye and always, and rare as great. This is to be accounted for, inasmuch as she is in her nature less perfect than man. He that would have a fair one for his friend, let him but assail her with his praise, and he shall be sure of obtaining whatever he shall desire. In the matter of apparel, all distinction has been banished between a good woman and a naughty one. Go we to a marriage-feast, does the honourable woman enjoy the advantage in any one mentionable particular? Nay, the dishonest one is the object of the greater homage. *** Among the thousand fashions

of female dress, are trains which gather up the fleas, and throw up great dust. Our women have a custom also of wearing yellow veils, which are washed every week, and dyed of the same hue again. From this arises the dearness of saffron. Now, yellow is undoubtedly a colour displeasing to the Deity, whether in men, women, or angels. The body of our Saviour was not wrapt in a yellow but a white cloth. From foul meat comes yellow gravy. Old women in yellow veils look like a piece of smoaked meat floating in yellow sauce.'

He deals towards his own sex an equally unsparing measure of censure; and there is many a one amongst ourselves to whom the spirit of the following comment might point a moral:

Some wear beards and, forsooth, can give no reason why they wear them. There are those who mount a beard as a mere plaything for their fingers, or to put them in mind that they are men; others there are who we wear it out of wanton vanity, that men may point at them with their fingers. Such as these are egregious fools; they abound with as many empty conceits as there are hairs ahout their muzzles; and, having no they trust to their beards for notoriety, being determerit of their own whereby they may climb into note, their persons.' mined to bear some distinguishing mark or other about

The reader must not conclude that our reformer cumstances with a jaundiced eye, or lashing them was a social separatist, looking at mundane cirwith the rod of religious spleen. His was a gladsome, not a morose and gloomy, Christianity. He would take a glass with a friend, and enjoy it, when rational mirth sat upon its brim. Gambling was a monster he abhorred; innocent sport and recreation he recommended as not only lawful, but salutary:

'It is not every one who dances that is a fool; beware only that ye dance with a modest bearing. Howbeit, it is worse than folly, to dance at improper seasons, or intemperately, or from a vicious_propensity, in sacred places, or with immodesty. It is a pastime, moreover, unbefitting the sacred character.'

Geiler's Discourses' are sufficiently remarkable as evidences of an honest and fearless anxiety to correct the vices and follies of his brethren; but they acquire a higher interest when we come to consider them as the depositary of his religious opinions and philosophical views. Let the votaries of Reason' learn from his code how little they understand the right use of her gifts, in this vaunted' age of intellect !'

'I hold reason,' he observes, 'to be the mistress in the soul's mansion; when she is present and upon the watch, all other senses are bridled, and each plays a befitting part. But no sooner does she forget her own dignity, than the human frame becomes a chaos, where behoves a man to practise the art of keeping his senevery faculty is in its wrong position. Wherefore, it sual appetites under subjection to his reason, whereby he may maintain a perpetual mastery over them. How happy is he who obeys the counsels of such a mistress, the ruler and governess of its throng of menials!" and suffers her to sway the sceptre of his mind, as

As to the religious perfectibility of human nature, he observes,

'The more ye think of God, and speak of him, and walk with him, the more closely ye draw near to him. Ye partake of the Divine essence through love; and the greater is your love towards God, the nearer do ye approach unto him, and assimilate your being with his. Some have imagined that a man may become so perfect on earth, and imbued with so abundant a measure of the Divine love, as to partake of his nature; precisely as if one were to let a drop of water fall into a cask of wine. The drop is deprived of its nature, and is turned into wine. I hold, however, that a man, who loves God above every other earthly object, does not thereby become of God, but receives God's impress and likeness. In a red-hot bar of iron we see nothing but fire; yet it does not part with its substance and essence, but remains iron still. Thus is it with a man who loves God, and keeps his statutes: he becomes like unto God, just as the other is like unto fire, but remains of human essence still.'

'Thou askest,' says he, in another place, why God created man? I reply, out of his great goodness only, and with a view to man's welfare, that he might make him a participator of his great goodness. Man, in the

state of nature, was at unity with himself, like a new
cask; for original justice kept him whole and perfect.
But, so soon as Adam had offended his Maker, God
withdrew this gift from him, and the human nature
fell to pieces, like a cask without its bands; one mem-
ber warred against another, one power against an-
other;
the soul against the body, and the body and
the senses against the spirit.'

Again

Our heart is like a mill, constantly revolving, never at rest, but unceasingly busy in grinding whatever is cast into it. So is the mill of thy heart perpetually at work in reducing whatever thou castest into it, whether it be good or whether it be evil. Choose thou, which of the twain thou wouldst! It rests with thyself, by the help of God, to choose none but the good, and to cast from thee thy wicked imaginations and evil thoughts.'

needed.'

*

KINSEY'S PORTUGAL.

Portugal Illustrated in a Series of Letters. By the Rev.
W. M. Kinsey, B. D., &c. &c. Second Edition.
London, 1829.

As we bestowed a very ample notice this upon work when it first appeared, we should not have referred to the present edition unless it had contained some highly important additions and improvements. The most valuable of them is a Literature. This rapid sketch certainly will not letter upon the rise and progress of Portuguese satisfy any Portuguese scholar, or even any determined student. For, Heaven be thanked! there is no literature in the world of which even a tolerably perfect view can be given in the space of At fifty pages. But to many English readers who the present day, we do not stand in need of mi- wish to pick up some general information on the racles to stablish our faith; that faith received abundant subject, or who, having thoughts of studying the witness in the days of Christ. When thou first in- language, want the stimulus of an assurance from sertest a bunch of rosemary into the ground, thou art a competent authority that it contains something required to water it morning and evening for the ensuing three or four weeks; but, when it is strong and worth studying, this Catalogue Raisonné of Lusitanian authors will be interesting and useful. hearty, thy pains are no longer called for. Thus is it with the beginnings of faith; when it was first planted, Mr. Kinsey commences by disdaining, on the it required to be strengthened by the aid of miracles: part of the Portuguese language, the charge of a but, now it is grown up, their attestation is no longer Castilian derivation, and by maintaining for it an equal antiquity with its neighbour dialect. There can be no doubt, we imagine, that he is right in this opinion; indeed, we were not aware that there were any persons who held the other heresy. Whether he is equally right in assigning the origin of both Spanish and Portuguese to the Roman invaders of the Peninsula, Latin in the former case being modified by a mixture with the dialects of the Visigoths, and subsequently by Arabic, and the latter by a mixture with the idioms of the Suevi, may admit of more question; and to this subject, as well as to the more interesting question relating to the literature, we shall return in a future article. By giving Mr. Kinsey's views first, and our own when they are more matured, ing the chance of the latter being worthy of our we shall be doing justice to the first, and increasreaders' consideration. That inquiry, so little pursued in proportion to its importance, into the earliest literature of countries, would redound greatly to the honour of the one under our consideration. The following is Mr. Kinsey's view of this period of Portuguese literature :

We observed in a preceding page, that the Reformation was more than partially preached before its thunders shook the Vatican;' and we will now exhibit Geiler to the reader as one who, having drunk at the pure well-spring of Christian doctrine, was gifted with penetration to detect, and courage to expose, the blasphemous pretensions of the triple-crowned Roman.'

When,' says he, St. Paul saw that St. Peter and the rest wandered from the straight path and the truth of the Gospel, he chastened him. (Galat. c. 2.) From this it is assumed, that a subject is not only authorised, but bound, to withstand his superior when he commands unlawful things, and that resistance may be offered even to the Pope when he does violence to the faith. Truly, it beseemeth neither Emperor nor Pope to lay down laws which are opposed to the divine statutes. When he does this, he does an unjust thing; and it is not only lawful for us, but our bounden duty, to refrain from compliance. The dispensation of the Pope is nothing worth, unless it be derived from reasonable causes; but, if it emanate from a superior, or even the pontiff himself, without legitimate motives and reasonable cause, it is nothing better than a prompt despatch to hell.'

But our limits warn us that we must bid farewell to an interesting companion, though not without gathering one gem more into the garner of metaphorical piety.

"The first vessel of innocence was wrecked in Adam; the second, of regeneration, has been stranded by our corrupted reason; hence, the only alternative that remains to us is to embark our fortunes in the vessel of repentance which the Saviour has constructed with the planks of grief and abhorrence for the sins of commission, and with the timber which has been felled by the axe of the fear of God. Satan seeks to hinder us from embarking, but angels hold the ladders. The helmsman is well-directed reason; faith, the compass; the sacrament is bread to the crew, and the heart its magazine; the holy commandments are its oars; its mast is the cross of Christ; free-will is its shrouds; fair breezes are wafted by our goodly dispositions, virtuous habits, and the grace of the Spirit; foul winds are the creatures of temptation; hope is our anchor, and sins are seamonsters; our lusts are the songs of syrens, and the cup of Circe is avarice; pride is the great leviathan, and Mary is the life-boat. As those stepping on shore, after a long voyage, are welcomed by the eager salutations of friends, so shall the spirits of men made perfect hail our coming, and bear us to the mansions of never-ending bliss.'

stirring effusions of the Scalds, we know of no other poetical pieces which might dispute priority of date with those of the ancient minstrels of Portugal, save, perhaps, some of the Welsh poems, and some early fragments of Irish poetry.

Though but as yet little moulded into form, the Portuguese language nevertheless commenced, even in the first ages of the monarchy, to assume a vigour of character, and to give early evidence of its future capabilities. La Harpe, in his "Cours de Littérature," affirms, that the first chivalrous romance which was ever published in any of the living languages of Europe, is decidedly of Portuguese origin, namely, that of the celebrated Amadis de Gaul, by Vasco de Lobeira, which has been translated in every country of Europe, and lately into English by Mr. Southey. Under the fostering care of the sovereigns of Portugal, the language now made rapid strides to perfection; already enumerating its minstrels, its chroniclers, and writers of romance, until at length, in the fifteenth century, during the reign of Emmanuel, it possessed its regular historians and poets, and, what is more, its dramatic poets. Gomes d'Azuara, Fernam Lopes, Rezende, and afterwards Barros, surnamed the Livy of Portugal, and who wrote the history of the Portuguese conquest, in the East, successively challenged public attention. About the same time also many other historical and poetical writers flourished, of whom it will be sufficient to mention the most remarkable. Azurara was em

ployed by Alphonso V., who was the first to ordain a history of Portugal in Latin, in collecting materials in Africa for perfecting its chronicles; Lopes, whose writings are exact and philosophical, often, too, appeal-ing to the heart, is considered the father of Portuguese history. Rezende and Barros have both their own pe

culiar merits.

'Bernardim Ribeiro, who wrote towards the end of the fifteenth century, in addition to his romance, entitled "Menina e Moça," or the Young and Youthful, published idyls and pastoral pieces, distinguished for their Vicente composed for the court of Emmanuel some beauty and simplicity. About the same time, Gil dramatic pieces, in which, though, to say the truth, the ancient and classic forms of the drama are not followed, nor are the energetic and manly beauty of the Greek dramatists, nor the richness and variety of our own Shakspeare to be found, yet are they to be considered as marvellous productions for the period at which they were written. This same author gave the world comedies, likewise autos, mysteries, or representations of scriptural subjects, and also some farces. Copies of King of Portugal is said to have possessed one. this author's works are extremely scarce. The late Considering the great importance of his writings, and particularly to the history of the Portuguese and Spanish stage, it is to be hoped that a new edition of Gil Vicente will be undertaken by some one competent to the task.'-Pp. 527-530.

'No language, perhaps, in Europe can trace to an earlier date vestiges of its poetry and general literature, than the Portuguese. Fragments of lyric poems, coeval with the infancy of the monarchy and of still remoter Such, for instance, are those by Egas Moniz, the comdate, are preserved, and regarded with peculiar interest. There are many writers nearly contemporary with Camoens, whose poems abound with beauties which depanion and friend of Alphonso I.; and the song pre- serve the attention of persons of taste, and which inserved by the celebrated chronicler, Fr. Bernardo de deed deservedly occupy a prominent station in the hisBrito, the date of which may be referred to the times tory of modern literature. Portugal boasts not only of of the first Kings of Oviedo, some centuries previous to having been the birth-place and cradle of romance, and the establishment of Portuguese independence. In ad- the fountain-head of the epic poetry of the moderns, dition to these interesting monuments of antiquity, but justly claims likewise the invention of modern there are others handed down by tradition only, and tragedy,-a pretension, however, rejected by some which claim to be of a period equally remote. We al- writers. The Sophonisba of Trissina, and the Castro immemorial have been current among the lower orders lude to the popular song or romances, which from time of Antonio Ferreira, appeared nearly at the same time; and one thing may be fairly asserted, that the Portuof the people, the language of which, though corrupted, and even the romantic ballads themselves much muti-Trissino, as the Lusiad is to his poem of Italia Libeguese tragedy of Ferreira is as superior to the Italian lated by barbarism and ignorance, evince clearly their high antiquity; of which it would be difficult, if not impossible, to fix the exact date. One of these interesting romances, known to the common people of Portugal under the fantastic appellation of chacras, has been restored by the Chevalier de Almeida Garret, and has been recently published by him in the introduction to his elegant poem of 'Adozinda.' This traditionary romance is entitled 'Bernal and Violante,' and possessing, as it does, all the peculiar features which distinguish the poetical effusions of the troubadours and feudal minstrels, would certainly meet with a fa

vourable reception in England, were it versified by some
magic hand, like that of Sir Walter Scott.

The interest excited among the public by the single volume to which the preceding remarks have been devoted, has, we find, induced Dr. Nearly all the primitive monuments of Portuguese Weick to undertake a much more detailed bio- literature," as the foreign reviewer states," consist of graphy of this enlightened herald of the Refor-love-songs and ballads in the Galician dialect. The mation, and to accompany it by copious selections from his writings; the whole will be comprised in three volumes, of which the first only has yet been published.

quity; nor are there to be found in their collections
troubadours of Provence cannot boast of greater anti-
romances of equal beauty and simplicity with the cha-
cras, or xacras, of the Portuguese. With the exception
of the traditionary songs of the north, and the spirit.

rata.' There are certainly many defects to be disco-
vered in the tragedy of Castro, but there are likewise
beauties in sufficient number, and of character, to ex-
cite the interest of the English literati, who, less sel-
fish and vain than the French critics, delight in the
discovery as in the applause of merit, wherever it oc-
curs. Leaving to the Portuguese and to the Italians
the task of deciding the question of priority between
these two tragedies, we will venture to affirm that there
The Castro of Ferreira partakes of the ancient tragedy
can be no question as to their comparative beauties.
of the Greeks in all its purity and simplicity, as most
certainly in all its defects. The choruses, however,
possess an elegance and a charm which cannot be
equalled, perhaps even in those celebrated lines in the
'Athalie' of Racine. An English translation of this
tragedy, with a memoir of its excellent and worthy au-
532, 533.
thor was published in 1825, by Mr. Musgrave.'-Pp.

Nearly one-third of the eighteenth century nad already passed away, when Joseph I. mounted the throne of Portugal, reposing all his confidence in the

Rome. The Pope and the Cardinals were thrown into pre-eminence with the authors of "The Lutrin," Irish novels; not in the sense in which Fielding's

""For this turn, Sir, any way. "Tis luck that does it all. Sure I thought I was cock-sure of it, an' I having the Post-masther's word. But, indeed, if Iflecting on him in regard o' the hump on his back, poor meet that free-stone crathur again, I'll knock her red head against the wall."