ration was the common thought of his contemporaries. But he had the genius which reveals to this popular thought its own grandeur, of which it was before unconscious. If he had any other assistance, it was from one whom I have already mentioned, one of those great promoters of intellectual progress, who appeared towards the close of the eleventh century, and excited the imagination by their enterprises and their victories-Gregory Seventh. I am about to make known something, which has never been cited any where, even in Italy, and which is found neither in Muratori, nor in Tiraboschi, nor in Baronius.

One day, long before the epoch of Dante, in the little city of Arezzo, the Pope Nicholas Second being present, a Cardinal ascended the pulpit and preached. This Cardinal was then fifty years of age; he was small of stature; his eyes were sparkling, and animated by an ardent and sombre fire, which made sinners tremble; his hair, still black, gave to his countenance already aged, something more manly and harsh His words were revered by the people; he was henceforth regarded as a holy man; and all the bishops of Italy trembled before his power: this was Gregory Seventh, who was yet only the archdeacon Hildebrand.

In what he said, we may perhaps trace the inspiration of Dante. Why go back so far? Because a man of genius having preached such a thing, it must have been repeated, commented upon, exaggerated, altered by the popular imagination, and, receiving in its course a thousand accessories, become a vast legend, which a man of genius afterwards seized upon and raised to the dignity of poetry; but the primitive germ was there. Gregory Seventh concerned himself, not with a poetic thought, but with an act of sacerdotal domination. He wished to make understood, by a terrible fiction, that the possessions of the church were sacred and inviolable, and that neither barons nor princes could with impunity lay their hands upon them. Moreover, it was his policy to impute the greatest of all crimes to the Germans, the enemies of Italy and of the Popes. Let us listen to him:

and there saw the above-mentioned count, placed upon the highest step of a ladder. He affirmed that this ladder seemed to rise uninjured, among the roaring and eddying flames of the avenging fire, and to have been placed there, to receive all the descendants of that race of Counts. Beyond, a black chaos, a frightful abyss extended infinitely and plunged into the infernal depths, whence issued this immense ladder. This was the order established among those who there succeeded each other the last comer took the highest step of the ladder, and he, who before occupied it, and all the others, descended each one step towards the abyss. The men of this family, coming after him, were successively arranged upon the ladder, and, by an inevitable law, went one after another to the bottom of the abyss.

The holy man who witnessed these things, inquiring the cause of this horrible damnation, and especially why this Count, his contemporary, was punished, who had lived with such justice, propriety and uprightness, a voice replied: On account of a domain of the Church of Metz, which one of their ancestors, of whom he is the tenth heir, had wrested from the blessed Stephen, all these have been devoted to the same punishment and as the same sin of avarice had united them in the same crime, so the same punishment has reunited them in the fires of Hell."

:

And now that we have the idea of these ten degrees, this progressive noviciate of hell, does it not seem, that this and similar recitals, issuing from that terrible mouth, which made kings tremble, and from that pulpit full of anathemas, and circulating in all the different versions of the terrified multitude, must, sooner or later, have deposited in the soul of a man of genius the germ of that wonderful and sublime plan, in which nine infernal circles present a continual succession of torments.

Time will fail me, to fill up all the parts of the rapid sketch which I proposed to make. The genius of Dante is distinct and separate from all which surrounds him. Nothing surpasses and nothing equals him. Now, from that powerful impulse, which superior man gives to his contemporaries, "A certain German count, rich and pow-secondary geniuses arise in his train. Thus erful, and which seems to me somewhat un-is presented the fourteenth century, with its usual among that class of men, of a good brilliancy, its beautiful language, its harmoconscience and a pure life, at least accord- ny, which Dante himself imitated from the ing to human judgment, died about ten Provençal Troubadours, but so eclipsed years ago. After his death, a holy man them, that they were never afterwards mendescended in spirit into the infernal regions, tioned.

Let us study with care all that Italian | for he filled forty volumes with an account literature, from which France has derived of his readings!

so much, and which owes so much to To what did all this literature lead? How France. The graceful verses and scholas- did the fifteenth century end? With a writic zeal of Petrarch, the narratives of Boc- ter not altogether moral, but acute and jucaccio and other romance writers, are illus- dicious, an excellent historian, Comines. trative of the taste and genius of the Mid- Let us here remark the general and natural dle Ages. Thus terminated the fourteenth laws, which have regulated the progress century of Italy. The age which followed of the French mind. As the fabliaux and was a period of mere erudition. The tales of the thirteenth and fourteenth cenhuman mind seems to have taken a grand turies produced the artless and piquant style step, from its own impulse; then it stopped; of the historian, Froissart, so all the long it investigated, instead of inventing: there romances of chivalry, and all the erudition was an interval of repose between the of the fifteenth century, conduced to form immortal works of the fourteenth century the sarcastic and subtle intellect of Coand the creations, not less grand, of mines. The genius of the nation, under the the sixteenth; there was a slumber of influence of the most diverse usages and human thought. studies, seems constantly to have advanced, and, at the close of each epoch, to have produced its most expressive and most appropriate type.

The same spectacle is presented in France without the same indemnification. There was nothing, in our fourteenth century, which even approached the creative powers of Dante or the elegance of Petrarch: but there were already many indications of that spirit of vivacity and raillery, which characterizes our nation and was born, I think, with the first Gaul.

Beside the acute judgment and politic sagacity of Comines, who crowned the first development of the French mind, appeared the earliest essays of the drama. They have not a literary, but an anecdotical and moral interest. Nor do we seek in The singular Romance of the Rose, them matter for a doctrinal quarrel. We commenced in the thirteenth century are eclectic in literature; we love all that Froissart, a chronicler so simple and yet is beautiful, ingenious, new, to whatever so full of refinement-Froissart, the inge- school it may belong. We believe that it nious poet, possessing the imagination of is not necessary to belong to any school, the Troubadours, united with the satire of not even to that of genius; for if it were the Trouvères; Charles of Orleans, acquir- original, it had no school; and for it, imiing a taste for poetry in his captivity of tation would be infidelity. But returning Agincourt-twenty-five years of imprison- from this digression, I will say that in ment!-how could he fail to become a poet? France, we find the commencement of the Charles of Orleans, who wrote verses of bold and free drama. In the order of such grace, in our language and in that of time, France was the first to enter this path, the conquerors: these are all that taste can which it afterwards quitted. Plays were select from the fourteenth century, and all also written in Italy, but it does not appear that succeeded that grand and immortal that they possessed much merit. I do not vision of Dante. Then came erudition to us, know whether that representation of the inas to Italy. There were crowds of writers, fernal regions, which was attempted in an incredible profusion of books, piles of Florence in 1304, to celebrate the arrival manuscripts at the gates, awaiting the in- of a papal legate, can be styled a play. vention of printing. All this will furnish The inhabitants were crowded together curious materials for the history of letters. upon the banks of the Arno, and upon a The romances of chivalry, which had bridge, where was acted the piece, compreceded the grand creations of Dante, posed of demons and condemned souls. were multiplied, more than ever, in the fif- I am unacquainted with the dialogue. The teenth century; they were, if I may be al-demons tormented the condemned, and the lowed the expression, the public imagination condemned complained. But the catastroof the times; we can number them by hundreds, the Palmerin d'Olive, the Palmerin d'Angleterre, the Florian du Désert, &c., &. I have not read them all; but M. de Paulmy read them. And it is a meritorious thing to have read M. de Paulmy,

phe was frightful; the bridge broke down : demons and condemned fell into the river. The idea of this piece was somewhat singular, but it cannot be regarded as a theatrical precedent.

The Spanish genius, which has produced

such master-pieces of dramatic art, was not the Arabian life; and that religious ardor, developed till the sixteenth century. It is and, at the same time, that tolerance, born in France then, that are to be found the of a kind of chivalric generosity, which most numerous dramatic efforts in the fif- afterwards yielded to a politic cruelty. teenth century. It is there that we must The king Don Sancho, when ill, confided study them. Moreover, our poor Trouba- himself to the hospitality and physicians of dours were no more; before the end of the the Moorish king of Cordova. Toledo, refourteenth century, they had ceased to ex-gained by the Spaniards, preserved its ist. Their language soon became merely grand mosque. The Moors became cheva provincial dialect Dante has named them; this is their glory. He met in purgatory one of these poets-the elegant Sordello; and he placed in hell the warlike Bertrand de Born, whom he represents as a bloody mutilated body, carrying its head in its hand.

The free poetry of the Troubadours never regained its happy genius, after the destruction of the Albigenses, whom it attempted to defend by its songs. It languished, and imperceptibly disappeared. In the fifteenth century, it was no longer mentioned.

In Spain, whose language had so great an affinity with that of the Troubadours, we may discern a prolonged reflection of their imagination. But the Castilian dialect began to prevail over the Catalan in literary works; and poetry was more learned than inspired. The Marquis de Santillana and other writers prescribed rules of taste: criticism superseded boldness.

aliers, like the Spaniards, and the latter became scholars and mathematicians, like the Moors. This curious spectacle of two nations, by turns conquering and conquered, communicating to each other all their ideas, yet never uniting, resembling each other in character, yet invincibly separated by religion, is constantly presented in the Spanish narratives, from the old poem of the Cid, to the chronicles of the war of Grenada. From a very natural reserve, we shall say but little of Arabian literature, in its connection with Europe in the Middle Ages. If we possessed the vast learning of M. Fauriel, who has acquired the Arabian, as well as the modern Greek, and all the languages of the South, we should enter with joy into the mines of the East, in which are concealed such treasures of imagination and poetry. But ignorant as we are, we will only endeavor to seek the reflection of Arabic genius in the Spanish genius, whence it passed into the rest of Europe.

Many minds felt, in the Middle Ages, the influence of Arabic literature, without knowing its original source. The Oriental genius came to them through Spain and Christianity.

Why was this? Because the Spanish genius had scarcely commenced its career, and had not yet performed those great deeds, which were necessary to animate and elate it. The Cid had stimulated the imagination of the people, but no poet was distinguished from the crowd. The peoWhen we shall have discovered, amid a ple were poets, and much anonymous tal- multitude of popular traditions and a few ent was exercised, without being known. scattered monuments, the general spirit of Yet some of the Spanish chroniclers ex- the Spanish nation, shall we not be tempted cite deep interest, and may be compared to exclaim: "Why has this nation, so vigorwith the historians of Italy. Allaya is not ous and so gifted, been outstripped? Why inferior to the celebrated Villani, and in has this race, formed of Arabian and Euthe fifteenth century, the dramatic life of ropean blood, ardent, inventive, and warAlvar de Luna was portrayed with rare tal-like, why had it then no genius for the ent by Castellanos. arts? Why were the Italians distinguished In the Spanish chronicles and romances, so much earlier?" Because it is necessary we see with what truth the national lan- for a nation to be a nation, before it can

guage depicts the Middle Ages. The possess talent, and to perform great actions Latin narratives are deceptive in style, un- before it can write books. Thus Italy, by less they are very barbarous, and, assuming liberating itself, under the auspices of the rudeness of the times, allow the move- those great popes of the Middle Ages, by ments of the vulgar tongue to be discerned. transforming its cities into agitated but The old monuments of the Spanish lan- free republics, had early accomplished its guage alone show distinctly, and with an work, and had opened for itself a career of admirable vividness of coloring, the Chris- genius and the arts. Spain had not then tian life of the Middle Ages, mingled with achieved this, but though delayed, how

From the London Quarterly Review. COLLECTIVE EDITION OF LORD CHESTERFIELD'S LETTERS.

The Letters of Philip Dormer Stanhope, Earl of Chesterfield; including numerous Letters now first published from the original MSS. Edited, with Notes, by Lord Mahon, in 4 vols., 8vo. London. 1845.

great has been its work! To what a height did it carry the power of the human mind! What vast exploits did it crowd into the close of the fifteenth century! Within a few years we see the crowns of Castile and Aragon united, Grenada besieged, and another city built under its ramparts, and hastening the fall of the last of the Moorish kings. The Spanish conquerors, not yet spoiled by the barbarous fanaticism of the Inquisition, retained the conquered as subjects, merchants and laborers. Two scions of the old knightly house of When Spain became powerful, industrious, Stanhope were raised to the peerage by proud of itself and its glory, it had time to James I. The elder (and only surviving) attempt vast enterprises and to possess ge- branch was advanced to the earldom of nius. And what great work did it un- Chesterfield by Charles I., in whose cause dertake? Something so great, that the its zeal and sufferings were conspicuous. whole future of the world is affected by it. Two of its cadets earned early in the next I know not from what cause, whether from century by great public services the separa Chinese tradition, reaching even to the ate earldoms of Stanhope and Harrington; Leipsig fair, or from the fortuitous discov- and in the former of these junior lines the ery of a German, printing was invented. succession of remarkable abilities has ever Spain, with its Genoese, undertakes some- since been uninterrupted-a circumstance thing still more grand: Columbus departs perhaps unique. We believe, taking the and America is discovered. The fifteenth blood altogether, not one race in Great century closed with this event, the most Britain has produced within the last two memorable in the history of the world, hundred and fifty years so many persons of since that which changed the faith of na- real and deserved eminence; but still for tions. And the man who performed this immortal work, first showed to Spain the height of literary genius, if this word may be applied to one so powerful in deeds as Christopher Columbus. The genius, till then limited to a few popular songs, was raised to sublimity by the enthusiasm of the great man, whose thoughts were as lofty as the actions which he achieved. If we would know what was Spanish eloquence, at the end of the fifteenth century, we must inquire of this stranger, we must snatch a few pages from the conferences of Christopher Columbus with the monks who wished to refuse him America: we must hear him, in his letters, justifying himself to kings, to whom he had given a world for which they were not grateful. Then we shall see, that the genius of eloquence, which succeeds action, is as grand as action it self, and not less worthy of leaving, in the memory of mankind, an impression which shall never be effaced.

the brilliant variety of his talents and attainments, the general splendor of his career, influence, and fame, the fourth Earl of Chesterfield remains the facilè princeps of his house and name. Either as statesman, or diplomatist, or orator, he stood below no contemporary who ever held the prime management of a great party, and below but two of those who ruled the Empire. As the ornament and oracle of the world of fashion, the model of taste and wit, and all personal graces and accomplishments, his supremacy was undisputed; but it is to his connexion with the literary men of his age that he owes mainly the permanence as well as the prominence of his celebrity. He survives among us, and will survive, by reason of his connexion with Pope, Gay, Atterbury, Arbuthnot, Swift, Voltaire, Johnson; and (though we are far from undervaluing others of his writings) because his Letters on the education of his son are in point of style a finished and classical work, contain instructions for the conduct of life that will never be obsolete, and constitutes some of our most curious materials for estimating the moral tone of aristocratic society during a long and important period of English history.

These famous Letters were published the year after his death, and have since gone through many editions; but it cannot be

said that until now they had received even | tion. With such social connexions and a decent measure of editorial care. Lord predilections, such literary habits and faMahon has (with a few trivial and proper cility, his correspondence must have been omissions in the earlier part of the series) vast-and even now we can have seen but reproduced them entire, and for the first a very insignificant fragment of it. Where time filled up names left in blank, and ex- is it? Even in those comparatively careplained hints and allusions which the lapse less days, who could have burnt a letter of of another generation would have condemn- Lord Chesterfield's? We have no doubt ed to hopeless obscurity. As the original that in the repositories of those who repreeditrix was actuated solely by motives of sent his various political and fashionable pecuniary interest, no addition to the text associates, innumerable relics must still be could be expected-she, we may be sure, lying disinterred. Lord Mahon tells us that printed every scrap that had been preserv- he inquired in vain at Bretby; but it was ed. They are now, however, incorporated not there that we should have expected to with a more general correspondence which find much-Lord Chesterfield was the last had been originally dealt with in a widely man to keep copies of his own letters-we different manner. Bishop Chenevix and should greatly doubt whether he ever wrote Mr. Dayrolles were friends of Chesterfield, any thing twice over in his life. But we and men of character and honor. In what- are not told of any researches in places ever they communicated to the public they which we should have conjectured to be had a just regard for the claims both of the among the likeliest for discovery-at Castle dead and the living if they erred at all, Ashby, for instance, at Stanmer, at Clumit was on the side of over-delicacy: ac- ber, or Longleat, or Hagley. Among his cordingly, the mutilations were severe; closest connexions was that with Mr. Waland as respects this, the larger share of his ler, the last male representative of the poet, materials, when we compare Lord Mahon's himself a man of extensive acquirements, copy with what we had had before, it is an elegant scholar, through life a student. hardly too much to say that he has given Where are the Waller MSS? Has Mr. us a new work. Whatever could wound Upcott no information of their fate? Then, any body's feelings had been omitted; in is there not reason to suppose that a very other words, a very large proportion of considerable body of Chesterfield's papers whatever could throw light on the secret exist in the Castle of Dublin? The Earl's history of parties and public men in Lord brief vice-royalty is on the whole the most Chesterfield's time-very many letters en honorable feature in his history. Some intirely the most striking paragraphs of edited letters or despatches of that date half the rest. The lacuna are now filled were quoted with effect a few years ago in up as far as was possible-and the whole the House of Lords by the Marquis of Norillustrated by notes, which we recommend manby; but though the noble Editor's atto the study of all who may be tempted to tention was thus directed to the point, the undertake tasks of this description; for result is nil. He states that his applications they are brief and clear-and wherever were received with the anticipated courtesy a judgment was called for, convey that of both by Lord Normanby and by the present a sagacious mind in language as terse as the Lord-Lieutenant; but that in neither case great kinsman himself could have employ- were the desired documents placed at his ed. Lord Mahon has also collected and disposal. Cosas de España : :-we think arranged the various Letters that had more it highly improbable that a trip to Dublin recently emerged in the Suffolk Corre- (within the last twelve months at all events) spondence, the Marchmont Papers, Cox's could have failed of its reward. But as no ponderous compilations, and elsewhere. man ever devoted himself to the ladies with We are, however, we must confess, some- more zeal, or carried to the grave with him what surprised that his diligence has not the reputation of more triumphant success brought out more of absolute novelty in in the quest of their favor, nothing certainthis way. Mr. George Berkeley, we know, ly strikes us as stranger in this case than had kept carefully some specimens of Ches- that so few specimens should have yet come terfield's epistolary vein, even of the boy- out of the Earl's correspondence with the ish Cambridge time. The writer attained fair sex. That he hardly spent a morning extraordinary repute in his earliest man- between his 20th and his 50th year without hood, and he lived to the edge of eighty in penning some effusion of gallantry-nulla the enjoyment of all but unrivalled admira-dies sine lined-we may assume as not less