Handbook of Universal Literature, From the Best and Latest Authorities
Date: 2005-05-02T00:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Literature -- History and criticism

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Title: Handbook of Universal Literature, From the Best and Latest Authorities

Author: Anne C. Lynch Botta

Release date: May 1, 2005 [eBook #8163]
Most recently updated: December 26, 2020

Language: English

Credits: Produced by Anne Soulard, Tiffany Vergon and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HANDBOOK OF UNIVERSAL LITERATURE, FROM THE BEST AND LATEST AUTHORITIES ***

Produced by Anne Soulard, Tiffany Vergon
and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.

HANDBOOK OF UNIVERSAL LITERATURE FROM THE BEST AND LATEST AUTHORITIES

BY ANNE C. LYNCH BOTTA

PREFATORY NOTE TO THE REVISED EDITION.

Since the first publication of this work in 1860, many new names have appeared in modern literature. Japan, hitherto almost unknown to Europeans, has taken her place among the nations with a literature of her own, and the researches and discoveries of scholars in various parts of the world have thrown much light on the literatures of antiquity. To keep pace with this advance, a new edition of the work has been called for. Prefixed is a very brief summary of an important and exhaustive History of the Alphabet recently published.

PREFACE.

This work was begun many years ago, as a literary exercise, to meet the personal requirements of the writer, which were such as most persons experience on leaving school and "completing their education," as the phrase is. The world of literature lies before them, but where to begin, what course of study to pursue, in order best to comprehend it, are the problems which present themselves to the bewildered questioner, who finds himself in a position not unlike that of a traveler suddenly set down in an unknown country, without guide-book or map. The most natural course under such circumstances would be to begin at the beginning, and take a rapid survey of the entire field of literature, arriving at its details through this general view. But as this could be accomplished only by subjecting each individual to a severe and protracted course of systematic study, the idea was conceived of obviating this necessity to some extent by embodying the results of such a course in the form of the following work, which, after being long laid aside, is now at length completed.

In conformity with this design, standard books have been condensed, with no alterations except such as were required to give unity to the whole work; and in some instances a few additions have been made. Where standard works have not been found, the sketches have been made from the best sources of information, and submitted to the criticism of able scholars.

The literatures of different nations are so related, and have so influenced each other, that it is only by a survey of all that any single literature, or even any great literary work, can be fully comprehended, as the various groups and figures of a historical picture must be viewed as a whole, before they can assume their true place and proportions.

A.C.L.B.

CONTENTS.

LIST OF AUTHORITIES

INTRODUCTION.

THE ALPHABET. 1. The Origin of Letters.—2. The Phoenician Alphabet and Inscriptions.— 3. The Greek Alphabet. Its Three Epochs.—4. The Mediaeval Scripts. The Irish. The Anglo-Saxon. The Roman. The Gothic. The Runic. CLASSIFICATION OF LANGUAGES

CHINESE LITERATURE.

1. Chinese Literature.—2. The Language.—3. The Writing.—4. The Five
Classics and Four Books.—5. Chinese Religion and Philosophy. Lao-tsé.
Confucius. Meng-tsé or Mencius.—6. Buddhism.—7. Social Constitution of
China.—8. Invention of Printing.—9. Science, History, and Geography.
Encyclopaedias.—10. Poetry.—11. Dramatic Literature and Fiction.—12.
Education in China.

JAPANESE LITERATURE.

1. The Language.—2. The Religion.—3. The Literature. Influence of Women.—4. History.—5. The Drama and Poetry.—6. Geography. Newspapers. Novels. Medical Science.—7. Position of Woman.

SANSKRIT LITERATURE.

1. The Language.—2. The Social Constitution of India. Brahmanism.—3. Characteristics of the Literature and its Divisions.—4. The Vedas and other Sacred Books.—5. Sanskrit Poetry; Epic; the Ramayana and Mahabharata. Lyric Poetry. Didactic Poetry; the Hitopadesa. Dramatic Poetry.—6. History and Science.—7. Philosophy.—8. Buddhism.—9. Moral Philosophy. The Code of Manu.—10. Modern Literatures of India.—11. Education. The Brahmo Somaj.

BABYLONIAN AND ASSYRIAN LITERATURE.

1. The Accadians and Babylonians.—2. The Cuneiform Letters.—3. Babylonian and Assyrian Remains.

PHOENICIAN LITERATURE.

The Language.—The Remains.

SYRIAC LITERATURE.

The Language.—Influence of the Literature in the Eighth and Ninth
Century.

PERSIAN LITERATURE.

1. The Persian Language and its Divisions.—2. Zendic Literature; the
Zendavesta.—3. Pehlvi and Parsee Literatures.—4. The Ancient Religion of
Persia; Zoroaster.—5. Modern Literature.—6. The Sufis.—7. Persian
Poetry.—8. Persian Poets; Ferdusi; Eesedi of Tus; Togray, etc.—9.
History and Philosophy.—10. Education in Persia.

HEBREW LITERATURE.

1. Hebrew Literature; its Divisions.—2. The Language; its Alphabet; its Structure; Peculiarities, Formation, and Phases.—3. The Old Testament.— 4. Hebrew Education.—5. Fundamental Idea of Hebrew Literature.—6. Hebrew Poetry.—7. Lyric Poetry; Songs; the Psalms; the Prophets.—8. Pastoral Poetry and Didactic Poetry; the Proverbs and Ecclesiastes.—9. Epic and Dramatic Poetry; the Book of Job.—10. Hebrew History; the Pentateuch and other Historical Books.—11. Hebrew Philosophy.—12. Restoration of the Sacred Books.—13. Manuscripts and Translations.—14. Rabbinical Literature.—15. The New Revision of the Bible, and the New Biblical Manuscript.

EGYPTIAN LITERATURE.

1. The Language.—2. The Writing.—3. The Literature.—4. The Monuments.— 5. The Discovery of Champollion.—6. Literary Remains; Historical; Religious; Epistolary; Fictitious; Scientific; Epic; Satirical and Judicial.—7. The Alexandrian Period.—8. The Literary Condition of Modern Egypt.

GREEK LITERATURE.

INTRODUCTION.—1. Greek Literature and its Divisions.—2. The Language.— 3. The Religion.

PERIOD FIRST.—1. Ante-Homeric Songs and Bards.—2. Poems of Homer; the
Iliad; the Odyssey.—3. The Cyclic Poets and the Homeric Hymns.—4. Poems
of Hesiod; the Works and Days; the Theogony.—5. Elegy and Epigram;
Tyrtaeus; Achilochus; Simanides.—6. Iambic Poetry, the Fable, and Parody;
Aesop.—7. Greek Music and Lyric Poetry; Terpander.—8. Aeolic Lyric
Poets; Alcaeus; Sappho; Anacreon.—9. Doric, or Choral Lyric Poets;
Alcman; Stesichorus; Pindar.—10. The Orphic Doctrines and Poems.—11.
Pre-Socratic Philosophy; Ionian, Eleatic, Pythagorean Schools.—12.
History; Herodotus.

PERIOD SECOND.—1. Literary Predominance of Athens.—2. Greek Drama.—3.
Tragedy.—4. The Tragic Poets; Aeschylus; Sophocles; Euripides.—5.
Comedy; Aristophanes; Menander.—6. Oratory, Rhetoric, and History;
Pericles; the Sophists; Lysias; Isocrates; Demosthenes; Thucydides;
Xenophon.—7. Socrates and the Socratic Schools; Plato; Aristotle.

PERIOD THIRD.—1. Origin of the Alexandrian Literature.—2. The
Alexandrian Poets; Philetas; Callimachus; Theocritus; Bion; Moschus.—3.
The Prose Writers of Alexandria; Zenodotus; Aristophanes; Aristarchus;
Eratosthenes; Euclid; Archimedes.—4, Philosophy of Alexandria; Neo-
Platonism.—5. Anti-Neo-Platonic Tendencies; Epictetus; Lucian; Longinus.
—6. Greek Literature in Rome; Dionysius of Halicarnassus; Flavius
Josephus; Polybius; Diodorus; Strabo; Plutarch.—7. Continued Decline of
Greek Literature.—8. Last Echoes of the Old Literature; Hypatia; Nonnus;
Musaeus; Byzantine Literature.—9. The New Testament and the Greek
Fathers. Modern Literature; the Brothers Santsos and Alexander Rangabé.

ROMAN LITERATURE.

INTRODUCTION.—1. Roman Literature and its Divisions.—2. The Language;
Ethnographical Elements of the Latin Language; the Umbrian; Oscan;
Etruscan; the Old Roman Tongue; Saturnian Verse; Peculiarities of the
Latin Language.—3. The Roman Religion.

PERIOD FIRST.—1. Early Literature of the Romans; the Fescennine Songs; the Fabulae Atellanae.—2. Early Latin Poets; Livius Andronicus, Naevius, and Ennius.—3. Roman Comedy.—4. Comic Poets; Plautus, Terence, and Statius.—5. Roman Tragedy.—6. Tragic Poets; Pacuvius and Attius.—7. Satire; Lucilius.—8. History and Oratory; Fabius Pictor; Cencius Alimentus; Cato; Varro; M. Antonius; Crassus; Hortensius.—9. Roman Jurisprudence.—10. Grammarians.

PERIOD SECOND.—1. Development of the Roman Literature.—2. Mimes, Mimographers, Pantomime; Laberius and P. Lyrus.—3. Epic Poetry; Virgil; the Aeneid.—4. Didactic Poetry; the Bucolics; the Georgics; Lucretius. —5. Lyric Poetry; Catullus; Horace.—6. Elegy; Tibullus; Propertius; Ovid.—7. Oratory and Philosophy; Cicero.—8. History; J. Caesar; Sallust; Livy.—9. Other Prose Writers.

PERIOD THIRD.—1. Decline of Roman Literature.—2. Fable; Phaedrus.—3.
Satire and Epigram; Persius, Juvenal, Martial.—4. Dramatic Literature;
the Tragedies of Seneca.—5. Epic Poetry; Lucan; Silius Italicus; Valerius
Flaccus; P. Statius.—6. History; Paterculus; Tacitus; Suetonius; Q.
Curtius; Valerius Maximus.—7. Rhetoric and Eloquence; Quintilian; Pliny
the Younger.—8. Philosophy and Science; Seneca; Pliny the Elder; Celsus;
P. Mela; Columella; Frontinus.—9. Roman Literature from Hadrian to
Theodoric; Claudian; Eutropius; A. Marcellinus; S. Sulpicius; Gellius;
Macrobius; L. Apuleius; Boethius: the Latin Fathers.—10. Roman
Jurisprudence.

ARABIAN LITERATURE.

1. European Literature in the Dark Ages.—2. The Arabian Language.—3. Arabian Mythology and the Koran.—4. Historical Development of Arabian Literature.—5. Grammar and Rhetoric.—6. Poetry.—7. The Arabian Tales. —8. History and Science.—9. Education.

ITALIAN LITERATURE.

INTRODUCTION.—1. Italian Literature and its Divisions.—2. The Dialects. —3. The Italian Language.

PERIOD FIRST.—1. Latin Influence.—2. Early Italian Poetry and Prose. —3. Dante—4. Petrarch.—5. Boccaccio and other Prose Writers.—6. First Decline of Italian Literature.

PERIOD SECOND.—1. The Close of the Fifteenth Century; Lorenzo de'
Medici.—2. The Origin of the Drama and Romantic Epic; Poliziano, Pulci,
Boiardo.—3. Romantic Epic Poetry; Ariosto.—4. Heroic Epic Poetry;
Tasso.—5. Lyric Poetry; Bembo, Molza, Tarsia, V. Colonna.—6. Dramatic
Poetry; Trissino, Rucellai; the Writers of Comedy.—7. Pastoral Drama and
Didactic Poetry; Beccari, Sannazzaro, Tasso, Guarini, Rucellai, Alamanni.
—8. Satirical Poetry, Novels, and Tales; Berni, Grazzini, Firenzuola,
Bandello, and others.—9. History; Machiavelli, Guicciardini, Nardi, and
others.—10. Grammar and Rhetoric; the Academy della Crusca, Della Casa,
Speroni, and others.—11. Science, Philosophy, and Politics; the Academy
del Cimento, Galileo, Torricelli, Borelli, Patrizi, Telesio, Campanella,
Bruno, Castiglione, Machiavelli, and others.—12. Decline of the
Literature in the Seventeenth Century.—13. Epic and Lyric Poetry; Marini,
Filicaja.—14. Mock Heroic Poetry, the Drama, and Satire; Tassoni,
Bracciolini, Anderini, and others.—15. History and Epistolary Writings;
Davila, Bentivoglio, Sarpi, Redi.

PERIOD THIRD.—1. Historical Development of the Third Period.—2. The Melodrama; Rinuccini, Zeno, Metastasio.—3. Comedy; Goldoni, C. Gozzi, and others.—4. Tragedy; Maffei, Alfieri, Monti, Manzoni, Nicolini, and others.—5. Lyric, Epic, and Didactic Poetry; Parini, Monti, Ugo Foscolo, Leopardi, Grossi, Lorenzi, and others.—6. Heroic-Comic Poetry, Satire, and Fable; Fortiguerri, Passeroni, G. Gozzi, Parini, Ginsti, and others. —7. Romances; Verri, Manzoni, D'Azeglio, Cantù, Guerrazzi, and others. —8. History; Muratori, Vico, Giannone, Botta, Colletta, Tiraboschi, and others.—9. Aesthetics, Criticism, Philology, and Philosophy; Baretti, Parini, Giordani, Gioja, Romagnosi, Gallupi, Roemini, Gioberti.—From 1860 to 1885.

FRENCH LITERATURE.

INTRODUCTION.—1. French Literature and its Divisions.—2. The Language

PERIOD FIRST.—1. The Troubadours.—2. The Trouvères.—3. French
Literature in the Fifteenth Century.—4. The Mysteries and Moralities:
Charles of Orleans, Villon, Ville-Hardouin, Joinville, Froissart, Philippe
de Commines.

PERIOD SECOND.—1. The Renaissance and the Reformation: Marguerite de
Valois, Marot, Rabelais, Calvin, Montaigne, Charron, and others.—2. Light
Literature: Ronsard, Jodelle, Hardy, Malherbe, Scarron, Madame de
Rambouillet, and others.—3. The French Academy.—4. The Drama:
Corneille.—5. Philosophy: Descartes, Pascal; Port Royal.—6. The Rise of
the Golden Age of French Literature: Louis XIV.—7. Tragedy: Racine.—8.
Comedy: Molière.—9. Fables, Satires, Mock-Heroic, and other Poetry: La
Fontaine, Boileau.—10. Eloquence of the Pulpit and of the Bar:
Bourdaloue, Bossuet, Massillon, Fléchier, Le Maitre, D'Aguesseau, and
others.—11. Moral Philosophy: Rochefoucault, La Bruyère, Nicole.—12.
History and Memoirs: Mézeray, Fleury, Rollia, Brantôme, the Duke of Sully,
Cardinal de Retz.—13. Romance and Letter Writing: Fénelon, Madame de
Sévigné.—257

PERIOD THIRD.—1. The Dawn of Skepticism: Bayle, J. B. Rousseau,
Fontenelle, Lamotte.—2. Progress of Skepticism: Montesquieu, Voltaire.
—3. French Literature during the Revolution: D'Holbach, D'Alembert,
Diderot, J. J. Rousseau, Buffon, Beaumarchais, St. Pierre, and others.
—4. French Literature under the Empire: Madame de Staël, Chateaubriand,
Royer-Collard, Ronald, De Maistre.—5. French Literature from the Age of
the Restoration to the Present Time. History: Thierry, Sismondi, Thiers,
Mignet, Martin, Michelet, and others. Poetry and the Drama; Rise of the
Romantic School: Béranger, Lamartine, Victor Hugo, and others; Les
Parnassiens. Fiction: Hugo, Gautier, Dumas, Mérimée, Balzac, Sand,
Sandeau, and others. Criticism: Sainte-Beuve, Taine, and others.
Miscellaneous.

SPANISH LITERATURE.

INTRODUCTION.—1. Spanish Literature and its Divisions.—2. The Language.

PERIOD FIRST.—1. Early National Literature; the Poem of the Cid; Berceo,
Alfonso the Wise, Segura; Don Juan Manuel, the Archpriest of Hita, Santob,
Ayala.—2. Old Ballads.—3. The Chronicles.-4. Romances of Chivalry.—5.
The Drama.—6. Provençal Literature in Spain.—7. The Influence of Italian
Literature in Spain.—8. The Cancioneros and Prose Writing.—9. The
Inquisition.

PERIOD SECOND.—1. The Effect of Intolerance on Letters.—2. Influence of
Italy on Spanish Literature; Boscan, Garcilasso de la Vega, Diego de
Mendoza.—3. History; Cortez, Gomara, Oviedo, Las Casas.—4. The Drama,
Rueda, Lope de Vega, Calderon de la Barca.—5. Romances and Tales;
Cervantes, and other Writers of Fiction.—6. Historical Narrative Poems;
Ercilla.—7. Lyric Poetry; the Argensolas; Luis de Leon, Quevedo, Herrera,
Gongora, and others.—8. Satirical and other Poetry.—9. History and other
Prose Writing; Zurita, Mariana, Sandoval, and others.

PERIOD THIRD.—1. French Influence on the Literature of Spain.—2. The
Dawn of Spanish Literature in the Eighteenth Century; Feyjoo, Isla,
Moratin the elder, Yriarte, Melendez, Gonzalez, Quintana, Moratin the
younger.—3. Spanish Literature in the Nineteenth Century.

PORTUGUESE LITERATURE.

1. The Portuguese Language.—2. Early Literature of Portugal.—3. Poets of the Fifteenth Century; Macias, Ribeyro.—4. Introduction of the Italian Style; Saa de Miranda, Montemayor, Ferreira.—5. Epic Poetry; Camoëns; the Lusiad.—6. Dramatic Poetry; Gil Vicente.—7. Prose Writing; Rodriguez Lobo, Barros, Brito, Veira.—8. Portuguese Literature in the Seventeenth, Eighteenth, and Nineteenth Centuries; Antonio José, Manuel do Nascimento, Manuel de Bocage.

FINNISH LITERATURE.

1. The Finnish Language and Literature: Poetry; the Kalevala; Lönnrot;
Korhonen.—2. The Hungarian Language and Literature: the Age of Stephen
I.; Influence of the House of Anjou; of the Reformation; of the House of
Austria; Kossuth; Josika; Eötvös; Kuthy; Szigligeti; Petöfi.

SLAVIC LITERATURES.

The Slavic Race and Languages; the Eastern and Western Stems; the
Alphabets; the Old or Church Slavic Language; St. Cyril's Bible; the
Pravda Russkaya; the Annals of Nestor.

RUSSIAN LITERATURE.

1. The Language.—2. Literature in the Reign of Peter the Great; of
Alexander; of Nicholas; Danilof, Lomonosof, Kheraskof, Derzhavin,
Karamzin.—3. History, Poetry, the Drama: Kostrof, Dmitrief, Zhukoffski,
Krylof, Pushkin, Lermontoff, Gogol.—4. Literature in Russia since the
Crimean War: School of Nature; Turguenieff; Ultra-realistic School:
Science; Mendeleéff.

THE SERVIAN LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE

THE BOHEMIAN LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE.

John Huss, Jerome of Prague, Tycho Brahe, Kepler, Comenius, and others.

THE POLISH LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE.

Rey, Bielski, Copernicus, Czartoryski, Niemcewicz, Mickiewicz, and others.

ROMANIAN LITERATURE.

Carmen Sylva.

DUTCH LITERATURE.

1. The Language.—2. Dutch Literature to the Sixteenth Century: Maerlant;
Melis Stoke; De Weert; the Chambers of Rhetoric; the Flemish Chroniclers;
the Rise of the Dutch Republic.—3. The Latin Writers: Erasmus; Grotius;
Arminius; Lipsius; the Scaligers, and others; Salmasius; Spinoza;
Boerhaave; Johannes Secundus.—4. Dutch Writers of the Sixteenth Century:
Anna Byns; Coornhert; Marnix de St. Aldegonde; Bor, Visscher, and
Spieghel.—5. Writers of the Seventeenth Century: Hooft; Vondel; Cats;
Antonides; Brandt, and others; Decline in Dutch Literature.—6. The
Eighteenth Century: Poot; Langendijk; Hoogvliet; De Marre; Feitama;
Huydecoper; the Van Harens; Smits; Ten Kate; Van Winter; Van Merken; De
Lannoy; Van Alphen; Bellamy; Nieuwland, Styl, and others.—7. The
Nineteenth Century: Feith; Helmers; Bilderdyk; Van der Palm; Loosjes;
Loots, Tollens, Van Kampen, De s'Gravenweert, Hoevill, and others.

SCANDINAVIAN LITERATURE.

1. Introduction. The Ancient Scandinavians; their Influence on the English
Race.—2. The Mythology.—3. The Scandinavian Languages.—4. Icelandic, or
Old Norse Literature: the Poetic Edda, the Prose Edda, the Scalds, the
Sagas, the "Heimskringla." The Folks-Sagas and Ballads of the Middle
Ages.—5. Danish Literature: Saxo Grammaticus and Theodoric; Arreboe,
Kingo, Tycho Brahe, Holberg, Evald, Baggesen, Oehlenschläger, Grundtvig,
Blicher, Ingemann, Heiberg, Gyllenbourg, Winther, Hertz, Müller, Hans
Andersen, Plong, Goldschmidt, Hastrup, and others; Malte Brun, Rask, Rafn,
Magnusen, the brothers Oersted.—6. Swedish Literature: Messenius,
Stjernhjelm, Lucidor, and others. The Gallic period: Dalin, Nordenflycht,
Crutz and Gyllenborg, Gustavus III., Kellgren, Leopold, Oxenstjerna. The
New Era: Bellman, Hallman, Kexel, Wallenberg, Lidner, Thorild, Lengren,
Franzen, Wallin. The Phosphorists: Atterbom, Hammarsköld, and Palmblad.
The Gothic School: Geijer, Tegnér, Stagnelius, Almquist, Vitalis,
Runeberg, and others. The Romance Writers: Cederborg, Bremer, Carlén,
Knorring. Science: Swedenborg, Linnaeus, and others.

GERMAN LITERATURE.

INTRODUCTION.—1. German Literature and its Divisions.—2. The Mythology. —3. The Language.

PERIOD FIRST—1. Early Literature; Translation of the Bible by Ulphilas; the Hildebrand Lied.—2. The Age of Charlemagne; his Successors; the Ludwig's Lied; Roswitha; the Lombard Cycle.—3. The Suabian Age; the Crusades; the Minnesingers; the Romances of Chivalry; the Heldenbuch; the Nibelungen Lied.—4. The Fourteenth and Fifteenth Centuries; the Mastersingers; Satires and Fables; Mysteries and Dramatic Representations; the Mystics; the Universities; the Invention of Printing.

PERIOD SECOND.—From 1517 to 1700.—1. The Lutheran Period: Luther,
Melanchthon.—2. Manuel, Zwingle, Fischart, Franck, Arnd, Boehm.—3.
Poetry, Satire, and Demonology; Paracelsus and Agrippa; the Thirty Years'
War.—4. The Seventeenth Century: Opitz, Leibnitz, Puffendorf, Kepler,
Wolf, Thomasius, Gerhard; Silesian Schools; Hoffmannswaldau, Lohenstein.

PERIOD THIRD.—1. The Swiss and Saxon Schools; Gottsched, Bodmer, Rabener,
Gellert, Kästner, and others.—2. Klopstock, Lessing, Wieland, and Herder.
—3. Goethe and Schiller.—4. The Göttingen School: Voss, Stolberg,
Claudius, Bürger, and others.—5. The Romantic School: the Schlegels,
Novalis; Tieck, Körner, Arndt, Uhland, Heine, and others.—6. The Drama:
Goethe and Schiller; the Power Men; Müllner, Werner, Howald, and
Grillparzer.—7. Philosophy: Kant, Fichte, Schelling, Hegel, Schopenhauer,
and Hartmann. Science: Liebig, Du Bois-Raymond, Virchow, Helmholst,
Haeckel.—8. Miscellaneous Writings.

ENGLISH LITERATURE.

INTRODUCTION.—1. English Literature. Its Divisions.—2. The Language.

PERIOD FIRST.—1. Celtic Literature, Irish, Scotch, and Cymric Celts;
the Chronicles of Ireland; Ossian's Poems; Traditions of Arthur; the
Triads; Tales.—2. Latin Literature, Bede; Alcuin; Erigena.—3. Anglo-
Saxon Literature. Poetry; Prose; Versions of Scripture; the Saxon
Chronicle; Alfred.

PERIOD SECOND.—The Norman Age and the Fourteenth and Fifteenth
Centuries.—1. Literature in the Latin Tongue.—2. Literature in
Norman-French. Poetry; Romances of Chivalry.—3. Saxon-English.
Metrical Remains.—4. Literature in the fourteenth Century.—Prose
Writers: Occam, Duns Scotus, Wickliffe, Mandeville, Chaucer. Poetry;
Langland, Gower, Chaucer.—5. Literature in the Fifteenth Century.
Ballads.—6. Poets of the Fourteenth and Fifteenth Centuries in
Scotland. Wyntoun, Harbour, and others.

PERIOD THIRD.—1. Age of the Reformation (1509-1558). Classical,
Theological, and Miscellaneous Literature: Sir Thomas More and others.
Poetry: Skelton, Surrey, and Sackville; the Drama.—2. The Age of
Spenser, Shakespeare, Bacon, and Milton (1558-1660). Scholastic and
Ecclesiastical Literature. Translations of the Bible: Hooker, Andrews,
Donne. Hall, Taylor, Baxter; other Prose Writers: Fuller, Cudworth, Bacon,
Hobbes, Raleigh, Milton, Sidney, Selden, Burton, Browne, and Cowley.
Dramatic Poetry: Marlowe and Greene, Shakspeare, Beaumont and Fletcher,
Ben Jonson, and others; Massinger, Ford, and Shirley; Decline of the
Drama. Non-dramatic Poetry: Spenser and the Minor Poets. Lyrical Poets:
Donne, Cowley, Denham, Waller, Milton.—3. The Age of the Restoration and
Revolution (1660-1702). Prose: Leighton, Tillotson, Barrow, Bunyan,
Locke, and others. The Drama: Dryden, Otway. Comedy: Didactic Poetry:
Roscommon, Marvell, Butler, Pryor, Dryden.—4. The Eighteenth Century.
The First Generation (1702-1727): Pope, Swift, and others; the
Periodical Essayists: Addison, Steele. The Second Generation (1727-
1760); Theology: Warburton, Butler, Watts, Doddridge. Philosophy: Hume.
Miscellaneous Prose: Johnson; the Novelists: Richardson, Fielding,
Smollett, and Sterne. The Drama; Non-dramatic Poetry: Young, Blair,
Akenside, Thomson, Gray, and Collins. The Third Generation (1760-1800);
the Historians: Hume, Robertson, and Gibbon. Miscellaneous Prose: Johnson,
Goldsmith, "Junius," Pitt, Fox, Sheridan, and Burke, Criticism: Burke,
Reynolds, Campbell, Kames. Political Economy: Adam Smith. Ethics: Paley,
Smith, Tucker. Metaphysics: Reid. Theological and Religious Writers:
Campbell, Paley, Watson, Newton, Hannah More, and Wilberforce. Poetry:
Comedies of Goldsmith and Sheridan; Minor Poets; Later Poems; Beattie's
Minstrel; Cowper and Burns. 5. The Nineteenth Century. The Poets:
Campbell, Southey, Scott, Byron; Coleridge and Wordsworth; Wilson,
Shelley, Keats; Crabbe, Moore, and others; Tennyson, Browning, Procter,
and others. Fiction: the Waverley and other Novels; Dickens, Thackeray,
and others. History: Arnold, Thirlwall, Grote, Macaulay, Alison, Carlyle,
Freeman, Buckle. Criticism: Hallam, De Quincey, Macaulay, Carlyle, Wilson,
Lamb, and others. Theology: Poster, Hall, Chalmers. Philosophy: Stewart,
Brown, Mackintosh, Bentham, Alison, and others. Political Economy: Mill,
Whewell, Whately, De Morgan, Hamilton. Periodical Writings: the Edinburgh,
Quarterly, and Westminster Reviews, and Blackwood's Magazine. Physical
Science: Brewster, Herschel, Playfair, Miller, Buckland, Whewell.—Since
1860. I. Poets: Matthew Arnold, Algernon Swinburne, Dante Rossetti, Robert
Buchanan, Edwin Arnold, "Owen Meredith," William Morris, Jean Ingelow,
Adelaide Procter, Christina Rossetti, Augusta Webster, Mary Robinson, and
others. 2. Fiction: "George Eliot," McDonald, Collins, Black, Blackmore,
Mrs. Oliphant, Yates, McCarthy, Trollope, and others. 3. Scientific
Writers: Herbert Spencer, Charles Darwin, Tyndall, Huxley, and others.
4. Miscellaneous.

AMERICAN LITERATURE.

THE COLONIAL PERIOD.—1. The Seventeenth Century. George Sandys; The Bay Psalm Book; Anne Bradstreet, John Eliot, and Cotton Mather.—2. From 1700 to 1770. Jonathan Edwards, Benjamin Franklin, Cadwallader Colden.

FIRST AMERICAN PERIOD, FROM 1771 TO 1820.—1. Statesmen and Political
Writers: Washington, Jefferson, Hamilton; The Federalist; Jay, Madison,
Marshall, Fisher Ames, and others.—2. The Poets: Freneau, Trumbull,
Hopkinson, Barlow, Clifton, and Dwight.—3. Writers in other Departments:
Bellamy, Hopkins, Dwight, and Bishop White. Rush, McClurg, Lindley Murray,
Charles Brockden Brown. Ramsay, Graydon. Count Rumford, Wirt, Ledyard,
Pinkney, and Pike.

SECOND AMERICAN PERIOD, FROM 1820 TO 1860.—1. History, Biography, and
Travels: Bancroft, Prescott, Motley, Godwin, Ticknor, Schoolcraft,
Hildreth, Sparks, Irving, Headley, Stephens, Kane, Squier, Perry, Lynch,
Taylor, and others.—2. Oratory: Webster, Clay, Calhoun, Benton, Everett,
and others.—3. Fiction: Cooper, Irving, Willis, Hawthorne, Poe, Simms,
Mrs. Stowe, and others.—4. Poetry: Bryant, Dana, Halleck, Longfellow,
Willis, Lowell, Allston, Hillhouse, Drake, Whittier, Hoffman, and others.
—5. The Transcendental Movement in New England.—6. Miscellaneous
Writings: Whipple, Tuckerman, Curtis, Brigge, Prentice, and others.—7.
Encyclopaedias, Dictionaries, and Educational Books. The Encyclopaedia
Americana. The New American Cyclopaedia. Allibone, Griswold, Duyckinck,
Webster, Worcester, Anthon, Felton, Barnard, and others.—8. Theology,
Philosophy, Economy, and Jurisprudence: Stuart, Robinson, Wayland, Barnes,
Channing, Parker. Tappan, Henry, Hickok, Haven. Carey, Kent, Wheaton,
Story, Livingston, Lawrence, Bouvier.—9. Natural Sciences: Franklin,
Morse, Fulton, Silliman, Dana, Hitchcock, Rogers, Bowditch, Peirce, Bache,
Holbrook, Audubon, Morton, Gliddon, Maury, and others.—10. Foreign
Writers: Paine, Witherspoon, Rowson, Priestley, Wilson, Agassiz, Guyot,
Mrs. Robinson, Gurowski, and others.—11. Newspapers and Periodicals.
—12. Since 1860.

CONCLUSION.

INDEX.

LIST OF AUTHORITIES.

The following works are the sources from which this book is wholly or chiefly derived:—

Taylor's History of the Alphabet; Dwight's Philology; Herder's Spirit of
Hebrew Poetry; Lowth's Hebrew Poetry; Asiatic Researches; the works of
Gesenius, De Wette, Ewald, Colebrooke, Sir William Jones, Wilson, Ward;
Schlegel's Hindu Language and Literature; Max Müller's History of Sanskrit
Literature; and What India has taught us; Malcolm's History of Persia;
Richardson on the Language of Eastern Nations; Adelung's Mithridates;
Chodzko's Specimens of the Popular Poetry of Persia; Costello's Rose
Garden of Persia; Rémusat's Mémoire sur l'Ecriture Chinoise; Davis on the
Poetry of the Chinese; Williams's Middle Kingdom; The Mikado's Empire;
Rein's Travels in Japan; Duhalde's Description de la Chine; Champollion's
Letters; Wilkinson's Extracts from Hieroglyphical Subjects; the works of
Bunsen, Müller, and Lane; Müller's History of the Literature of Ancient
Greece, continued by Donaldson; Browne's History of Roman Classical
Literature; Fiske's Manual of Classical Literature; Sismondi's Literature
of the South of Europe; Goodrich's Universal History; Sanford's Rise and
Progress of Literature; Schlegel's Lectures on the History of Literature;
Schlegel's History of Dramatic Art; Tiraboschi's History of Italian
Literature; Maffei, Corniani, and Ugoni on the same subject; Chambers's
Handbooks of Italian and German Literature; Vilmar's History of German
Literature; Foster's Handbook of French Literature; Nisard's Histoire de
la Littérature Française; Demogeot's Histoire de la Littérature française;
Ticknor's History of Spanish Literature; Talvi's (Mrs. Robinson)
Literature of the Slavic Nations; Mallet's Northern Antiquities; Keyson's
Religion of the Northmen; Pigott's Northern Mythology; William and Mary
Howitt's Literature and Romance of Northern Europe; De s'Gravenweert's Sur
la Littérature Néerlandaise; Siegenbeck's Histoire Littéraire des Pays-
Bas; Da Pontes' Poets and Poetry of Germany; Menzel's German Literature;
Spaulding's History of English Literature; Chambers's Cyclopaedia of
English Literature; Shaw's English Literature; Stedman's Victorian Poets;
Trübner's guide to American Literature; Duyckinck's Cyclopaedia of
American Literature; Griswold's Poets and Prose Writers of America;
Tuckerman's Sketch of American Literature; Frothingham's Transcendental
Movement in New England. French, English, and American Encyclopaedias,
Biographies, Dictionaries, and numerous other works of reference have also
been extensively consulted.

INTRODUCTION.

THE ALPHABET.

1. The Origin of Letters.—2. The Phoenician Alphabet and Inscriptions.— 3, The Greek Alphabet. Its Three Epochs.—4. The Medieval Scripts. The Irish. The Anglo-Saxon. The Roman. The Gothic. The Runic.

1. THE ORIGIN OF LETTERS.—Alphabetic writing is an art easy to acquire, but its invention has tasked the genius of the three most gifted nations of the ancient world. All primitive people have begun to record events and transmit messages by means of rude pictures of objects, intended to represent things or thoughts, which afterwards became the symbols of sounds. For instance, the letter M is traced down from the conventionalized picture of an owl in the ancient language of Egypt, Mulak. This was used first to denote the bird itself; then it stood for the name of the bird; then gradually became a syllabic sign to express the sound "mu," the first syllable of the name, and ultimately to denote "M," the initial sound of that syllable.

In like manner A can be shown to be originally the picture of an eagle, D of a hand, F of the horned asp, R, of the mouth, and so on.

Five systems of picture writing have been independently invented,—the Egyptian, the Cuneiform, the Chinese, the Mexican, and the Hittite. The tradition of the ancient world, which assigned to the Phoenicians the glory of the invention of letters, declared that it was from Egypt that they originally derived the art of writing, which they afterwards carried into Greece, and the latest investigations have confirmed this tradition.

2. THE PHOENICIAN ALPHABET.—Of the Phoenician alphabet the Samaritan is the only living representative, the Sacred Script of the few families who still worship on Mount Gerizim. With this exception, it is only known to us by inscriptions, of which several hundred have been discovered. They form two well-marked varieties, the Moabite and the Sidonian. The most important monument of the first is the celebrated Moabite stone, discovered in 1868 on the site of the ancient capital of the land of Moab, portions of which are preserved in the Louvre. It gives an account of the revolt of the King of Moab against Jehoram, King of Israel, 890 B.C. The most important inscription of the Sidonian type is that on the magnificent sarcophagus of a king of Sidon, now one of the glories of the Louvre.

A monument of the early Hebrew alphabet, another offshoot of the Phoenician, was discovered in 1880 in an inscription in the ancient tunnel which conveys water to the pool of Siloam.

3. THE GREEK ALPHABET.—The names, number, order, and forms of the primitive Greek alphabet attest its Semitic origin. Of the many inscriptions which remain, the earliest has been discovered, not in Greece, but upon the colossal portrait statues carved by Rameses the Great, in front of the stupendous cave temple at Abou-Simbel, at the time when the Hebrews were still in Egyptian bondage. In the seventh century B. C., certain Greek mercenaries in the service of an Egyptian king inscribed a record of their visit in five precious lines of writing, which the dry Nubian atmosphere has preserved almost in their pristine sharpness.

The legend, according to which Cadmus the Tyrian sailed for Greece in search of Europa, the damsel who personified the West, designates the island of Thera as the earliest site of Phoenician colonization in the Aegean, and from inscriptions found there this may be regarded as the first spot of European soil on which words were written, and they exhibit better than any others the progressive form of the Cadmean alphabet. The oldest inscriptions found on Hellenic soil bearing a definite date are those cut on the pedestals of the statues which lined the sacred way leading to the temple of Apollo, near Miletus. Several of those, now in the British Museum, range in date over the sixth century B.C. They belong, not to the primitive alphabet, but to the Ionian, one of the local varieties which mark the second stage, which may be called the epoch of transition, which began in the seventh and lasted to the close of the fifth century B.C. It is not till the middle of the fifth century that we have any dated monuments belonging to the Western types. Among these are the names of the allied states of Hellas, inscribed on the coils of the three-headed bronze serpent which supported the gold tripod dedicated to the Delphian Apollo, 476 B.C. This famous monument was transported to Byzantium by Constantine the Great, and still stands in the Hippodrome at Constantinople. Of equal interest is the bronze Etruscan helmet in the British Museum, dedicated to the Olympian Zeus, in commemoration of the great victory off Cumae, which destroyed the naval supremacy of the Etruscans, 474 B.C., and is celebrated in an ode by Pindar.

The third epoch witnessed the emergence of the classical alphabets of
European culture, the Ionian and the Italic.

The Ionian has been the source of the Eastern scripts, Romaic, Coptic, Slavic, and others. The Italic became the parent of the modern alphabets of Western Europe.

4. THE MEDIAEVAL SCRIPTS.—A variety of national scripts arose in the establishment of the Teutonic kingdoms upon the ruins of the Roman Empire. But the most magnificent of all mediaeval scripts was the Irish, which exercised a profound influence on the later alphabets of Europe. From a combination of the Roman and Irish arose the Anglo-Saxon script, the precursor of that which was developed in the ninth century by Alcuin of York, the friend and preceptor of Charlemagne. This was the parent of the Roman alphabet, in which our books are now printed. Among other deteriorations, there crept in, in the fourteenth century, the Gothic or black letter character, and these barbarous forms are still essentially retained by the Teutonic nations though discarded by the English and Latin races; but from its superior excellences the Roman alphabet is constantly extending its range and bids fair to become the sole alphabet of the future. In all the lands that were settled and overrun by the Scandinavians, there are found multitudes of inscriptions in the ancient alphabet of the Norsemen, which is called the Runic. The latest modern researches seem to prove that this was derived from the Greek, and probably dates back as far as the sixth century B.C.The Goths were early in occupation of the regions south of the Baltic and east of the Vistula, and in direct commercial intercourse with the Greek traders, from whom they doubtless obtained a knowledge of the Greek alphabet, as the Greeks themselves had gained it from the Phoenicians.

CLASSIFICATION OF LANGUAGES.

Modern philologists have made different classifications of the various languages of the world, one of which divides them into three great classes: the Monosyllabic, the Agglutinated, and the Inflected.

—The first, or Monosyllabic class, contains those languages which consist only of separate, unvaried monosyllables. The words have no organization that adapts them for mutual affiliation, and there is in them, accordingly, an utter absence of all scientific forms and principles of grammar. The Chinese and a few languages in its vicinity, doubtless originally identical with it, are all that belong to this class. The languages of the North American Indians, though differing in many respects, have the same general grade of character.

The second class consists of those languages which are formed by agglutination. The words combine only in a mechanical way; they have no elective affinity, and exhibit toward each other none of the active or sensitive capabilities of living organisms. Prepositions are joined to substantives, and pronouns to verbs, but never so as to make a new form of the original word, as in the inflected languages, and words thus placed in juxtaposition retain their personal identity unimpaired.

The agglutinative languages are known also as the Turanian, from Turan, a name of Central Asia, and the principal varieties of this family are the Tartar, Finnish, Lappish, Hungarian, and Caucasian. They are classed together almost exclusively on the ground of correspondence in their grammatical structure, but they are bound together by ties of far less strength than those which connect the inflected languages. The race by whom they are spoken has, from the first, occupied more of the surface of the earth than either of the others, stretching westward from the shores of the Japan Sea to the neighborhood of Vienna, and southward from the Arctic Ocean to Afghanistan and the southern coast of Asia Minor.

The inflected languages form the third great division. They have all a complete interior organization, complicated with many mutual relations and adaptations, and are thoroughly systematic in all their parts. Between this class and the monosyllabic there is all the difference that there is between organic and inorganic forms of matter; and between them and the agglutinative languages there is the same difference that exists in nature between mineral accretions and vegetable growths. The boundaries of this class of languages are the boundaries of cultivated humanity, and in their history lies embosomed that of the civilized portions of the world.

Two great races speaking inflected languages, the Semitic and the Indo- European, have shared between them the peopling of the historic portions of the earth; and on this account these two languages have sometimes been called political or state languages, in contrast with the appellation of the Turanian as nomadic. The term Semitic is applied to that family of languages which are native in Southwestern Asia, and which are supposed to have been spoken by the descendants of Shem, the son of Noah. They are the Hebrew, Aramaeic, Arabic, the ancient Egyptian or Coptic, the Chaldaic, and Phoenician. Of these the only living language of note is the Arabic, which has supplanted all the others, and wonderfully diffused its elements among the constituents of many of the Asiatic tongues. In Europe the Arabic has left a deep impress on the Spanish language, and is still represented in the Maltese, which is one of its dialects.

The Semitic languages differ widely from the Indo-European in reference to their grammar, vocabulary, and idioms. On account of the great preponderance of the pictorial element in them, they may be called the metaphorical languages, while the Indo-European, from the prevailing style of their higher literature, may be called the philosophical languages. The Semitic nations also differ from the Indo-European in their national characteristics; while they have lived with remarkable uniformity on the vast open plains, or wandered over the wide and dreary deserts of their native region, the Indo-Europeans have spread themselves over both hemispheres, and carried civilization to its highest development. But the Semitic mind has not been without influence on human progress. It early recorded its thoughts, its wants, and achievements in the hieroglyphs of ancient Egypt; the Phoenicians, foremost in their day in commerce and the arts, introduced from Egypt alphabetic letters, of which all the world has since made use. The Jewish portion of the race, long in communication with Egypt, Phoenicia, Babylonia, and Persia, could not fail to impart to these nations some knowledge of their religion and literature, and it cannot be doubted that many new ideas and quickening influences were thus set in motion, and communicated to the more remote countries both of the East and West.

The most ancient languages of the Indo-European stock may be grouped in two distinct family pairs: the Aryan, which comprises two leading families, the Indian and Iranian, and the Graeco-Italic or Pelasgic, which comprises the Greek family and its various dialects, and the Italic family, the chief-subdivisions of which are the Etruscan, the Latin, and the modern languages derived from the Latin. The other Indo-European families are the Lettic, Slavic, Gothic, and Celtic, with their various subdivisions.

The word Aryan (Sanskrit, Arya), the oldest known name of the entire Indo-
European family, signifies well-born, and was applied by the ancient
Hindus to themselves in contradistinction to the rest of the world, whom
they considered base-born and contemptible.

In the country called Aryavarta, lying between the Himalaya and the Vindhya Mountains, the high table-land of Central Asia, more than two thousand years before Christ, our Hindu ancestors had their early home. From this source there have been, historically, two great streams of Aryan migration. One, towards the south, stagnated in the fertile valleys, where they were walled in from all danger of invasion by the Himalaya Mountains on the north, the Indian Ocean on the south, and the deserts of Bactria on the west, and where the people sunk into a life of inglorious ease, or wasted their powers in the regions of dreamy mysticism. The other migration, at first northern, and then western, includes the great families of nations in Northwestern Asia and in Europe. Forced by circumstances into a more objective life, and under the stimulus of more favorable influences, these nations have been brought into a marvelous state of individual and social progress, and to this branch of the human family belongs all the civilization of the present, and most of that which distinguishes the past.

The Indo-European family of languages far surpasses the Semitic in variety, flexibility, beauty, and strength. It is remarkable for its vitality, and has the power of continually regenerating itself and bringing forth new linguistic creations. It renders most faithfully the various workings of the human mind, its wants, its aspirations, its passion, imagination, and reasoning power, and is most in harmony with the ever progressive spirit of man. In its varied scientific and artistic development it forms the most perfect family of languages on the globe, and modern civilization, by a chain reaching through thousands of years, ascends to this primitive source.

CHINESE LITERATURE.

1. Chinese literature.—2. The Language.—3. The Writing.—4. The five
Classics and four Books.—5. Chinese Religion and Philosophy, Lao-tsé,
Confucius, Meng-tsé or Mencius.—6. Buddhism.—7. Social Constitution of
China.—8. Invention of Printing.—9. Science, History, and Geography.
Encyclopaedias.—10. Poetry.—11. Dramatic Literature and Fiction.—12.
Education in China.

1. CHINESE LITERATURE.—The Chinese literature is one of the most voluminous of all literatures, and among the most important of those of Asia. Originating in a vast empire, it is diffused among a population numbering nearly half the inhabitants of the globe. It is expressed by an original language differing from all others, it refers to a nation whose history may be traced back nearly five thousand years in an almost unbroken series of annals, and it illustrates the peculiar character of a people long unknown to the Western world.

2. THE LANGUAGE.—The date of the origin of this language is lost in antiquity, but there is no doubt that it is the most ancient now spoken, and probably the oldest written language used by man. It has undergone few alterations during successive ages, and this fact has served to deepen the lines of demarkation between the Chinese and other branches of the race and has resulted in a marked national life. It belongs to the monosyllabic family; its radical words number 450, but as many of these, by being pronounced with a different accent convey a different meaning, in reality they amount to 1,203. Its pronunciation varies in different provinces, but that of Nanking, the ancient capital of the Empire, is the most pure. Many dialects are spoken in the different provinces, but the Chinese proper is the literary tongue of the nation, the language of the court and of polite society, and it is vernacular in that portion of China called the Middle Kingdom.

3. THE WRITING.—There is an essential difference between the Chinese language as spoken and written, and the poverty of the former presents a striking contrast with the exuberance of the latter. Chinese writing, generally speaking, does not express the sounds of the words, but it represents the ideas or the objects indicated by them. Its alphabetical characters are therefore ideographic, and not phonetic. They were originally rude representations of the thing signified; but they have undergone various changes from picture-writing to the present more symbolical and more complete system.

As the alphabetic signs represent objects or ideas, it would follow that there must be in writing as many characters as words in the spoken language. Yet many words, which have the same sound, represent different ideas; and these must be represented also in the written language. Thus the number of the written words far surpasses that of the spoken language. As far as they are used in the common writing, they amount to 2,425. The number of characters in the Chinese dictionary is 40,000, of which, however, only 10,000 are required for the general purposes of literature. They are disposed under 214 signs, which serve as keys, and which correspond to our alphabetic order.

The Chinese language is written, from right to left, in vertical columns or in horizontal lines.

4. THE CLASSICS.—The first five canonical books are "The Book of Transformations," "The Book of History," "The Book of Rites," "The Spring and Autumn Annals," and "The Book of Odes"

"The Book of Transformations" consists of sixty-four short essays on important themes, symbolically and enigmatically expressed, based on linear figures and diagrams. These cabala are held in high esteem by the learned, and the hundreds of fortune-tellers in the streets of Chinese towns practice their art on the basis of these mysteries.

"The Book of History" was compiled by Confucius, 551-470 B. C., from the earliest records of the Empire, and in the estimation of the Chinese it contains the seeds of all that is valuable in their political system, their history, and their religious rites, and is the basis of their tactics, music, and astronomy. It consists mainly of conversations between kings and their ministers, in which are traced the same patriarchal principles of government that guide the rulers of the present day.

"The Book of Rites" is still the rule by which the Chinese regulate all the relations of life. No every-day ceremony is too insignificant to escape notice, and no social or domestic duty is beyond its scope. No work of the classics has left such an impression on the manners and customs of the people. Its rules are still minutely observed, and the office of the Board of Rites, one of the six governing boards of Peking, is to see that its precepts are carried out throughout the Empire. According to this system, all the relations of man to the family, society, the state, to morals, and to religion, are reduced to ceremonial, but this includes not only the external conduct, but it involves those right principles from which all true politeness and etiquette spring.

The "Book of Odes" consists of national airs, chants, and sacrificial odes of great antiquity, some of them remarkable for their sublimity. It is difficult to estimate the power they have exerted over all subsequent generations of Chinese scholars. They are valuable for their religious character and for their illustration of early Chinese customs and feelings; but they are crude in measure, and wanting in that harmony which comes from study and cultivation.

The "Spring and Autumn Annals" consist of bald statements of historical facts. Of the Four Books, the first three—the "Great Learning," the "Just Medium," and the "Confucian Analects"—are by the pupils and followers of Confucius. The last of the four books consists entirely of the writings of Mencius (371-288 B. C.). In originality and breadth of view he is superior to Confucius, and must be regarded as one of the greatest men Asiatic nations have produced.

The Five Classics and Four Books would scarcely be considered more than curiosities in literature were it not for the incomparable influence, free from any debasing character, which they have exerted over so many millions of minds.

5. CHINESE RELIGION AND PHILOSOPHY.—Three periods may be distinguished in the history of the religious and philosophical progress of China. The first relates to ancient tradition, to the idea of one supreme God, to the patriarchal institutions, which were the foundation of the social organization of the Empire, and to the primitive customs and moral doctrines. It appears that this religion at length degenerated into that mingled idolatry and indifference which still characterizes the people of China.

In the sixth century B.C., the corruption of the ancient religion having reached its height, a reaction took place which gave birth to the second, or philosophical period, which produced three systems. Lao-tsé, born 604 B.C., was the founder of the religion of the Tao, or of the external and supreme reason. The Tao is the primitive existence and intelligence, the great principle of the spiritual and material world, which must be worshiped through the purification of the soul, by retirement, abnegation, contemplation, and metempsychosis. This school gave rise to a sect of mystics similar to those of India.

Later writers have debased the system of Lao-tsé, and cast aside his profound speculations for superstitious rituals and the multiplication of gods and goddesses.

Confucius was the founder of the second school, which has exerted a far more extensive and beneficial influence on the political and social institutions of China. Confucius is a Latin name, corresponding to the original Kung-fu-tsé, Kung being the proper name, and Fu-tsé signifying reverend teacher or doctor. He was born 551 B.C., and educated by his mother, who impressed upon him a strong sense of morality. After a careful study of the ancient writings he decided to undertake the moral reform of his country, and giving up his high position of prime minister, he traveled extensively in China, preaching justice and virtue wherever he went. His doctrines, founded on the unity of God and the necessities of human nature, bore essentially a moral character, and being of a practical tendency, they exerted a great influence not only on the morals of the people, but also on their legislation, and the authority of Confucius became supreme. He died 479 B.C., at the age of seventy-two, eleven years before the birth of Socrates. He left a grandson, through whom the succession has been transmitted to the present day, and his descendants constitute a distinct class in Chinese society.

At the close of the fourth century B.C., another philosopher appeared by the name of Meng-tsé, or Mencius (eminent and venerable teacher), whose method of instruction bore a strong similarity to that of Socrates. His books rank among the classics, and breathe a spirit of freedom and independence; they are full of irony on petty sovereigns and on their vices; they establish moral goodness above social position, and the will of the people above the arbitrary power of their rulers. He was much revered, and considered bolder and more eloquent than Confucius.

6. The third period of the intellectual development of the Chinese dates from the introduction of Buddhism into the country, under the name of the religion of Fo, 70 A.D. The emperor himself professes this religion, and its followers have the largest number of temples. The great bulk of Buddhist literature is of Indian origin. Buddhism, however, has lost in China much of its originality, and for the mass it has sunk into a low and debasing idolatry. Recently a new religion has sprung up in China, a mixture of ancient Chinese and Christian doctrines, which apparently finds great favor in some portions of the country.

7. SOCIAL CONSTITUTION OF CHINA.—The social constitution of China rests on the ancient traditions preserved in the canonical and classic books. The Chinese empire is founded on the patriarchal system, in which all authority over the family belongs to the pater familias. The emperor represents the great father of the nation, and is the supreme master of the state and the head of religion. All his subjects being considered as his children, they are all equal before him, and according to their capacity are admitted to the public offices. Hence no distinction of castes, no privileged classes, no nobility of birth; but a general equality under an absolute chief. The public administration is entirely in the hands of the emperor, who is assisted by his mandarins, both military and civil. They are admitted to this rank only after severe examinations, and from them the members of the different councils of the empire are selected. Among these the Board of Control, or the all-examining Court, and the Court of History and Literature deserve particular mention, as being more closely related to the subject of this work. The duty of this board consists in examining all the official acts of the government, and in preventing the enacting of those measures which they may deem detrimental to the best interests of the country. They can even reprove the personal acts of the emperor, an office which has afforded many occasions for the display of eloquence. The courage of some of the members of this board has been indeed sublime, giving to their words wonderful power.

The Court of History and Literature superintends public education, examines those who aspire to the degree of mandarins, and decides on the pecuniary subsidies, which the government usually grants for defraying the expenses of the publication of great works on history and science.

8. INVENTION OF PRINTING.—At the close of the sixth century B.C. it was ordained that various texts in circulation should be engraved on wood to be printed and published. At first comparatively little use seems to have been made of the invention, which only reached its full development in the eleventh century, when movable types were first invented by a Chinese blacksmith, who printed books with them nearly five hundred years before Gutenberg appeared.

In the third century B.C., one of the emperors conceived the mad scheme of destroying all existing records, and writing a new set of annals in his own name, in order that posterity might consider him the founder of the empire. Sixty years after this barbarous decree had been carried into execution, one of his successors, who desired as far as possible to repair the injury, caused these books to be re-written from a copy which had escaped destruction.

9. SCIENCE, HISTORY, AND GEOGRAPHY.—Comparing the scientific development of the Chinese with that of the Western world, it may be said that they have made little progress in any branch of science. There are, however, to be found in almost every department some works of no indifferent merit. In mathematics they begin only now to make some progress, since the mathematical works of Europe have been introduced into their country. Astrology still takes the place of astronomy, and the almanacs prepared at the observatory of Peking are made chiefly by foreigners. Books on natural philosophy abound, some of which are written by the emperors themselves. Medicine is imperfectly understood. They possess several valuable works on Chinese jurisprudence, on agriculture, economy, mechanics, trades, many cyclopaedias and compendia, and several dictionaries, composed with extraordinary skill and patience.

To this department may be referred all educational books, the most of them written in rhyme, and according to a system of intellectual gradation.

The historical and geographical works of China are the most valuable and interesting department of its literature. Each dynasty has its official chronicle, and the celebrated collection of twenty-one histories forms an almost unbroken record of the annals from, the third century B.C. to the middle of the seventeenth century, and contains a vast amount of information to European readers. The edition of this huge work, in sixty- six folio volumes, is to be found in the British Museum. This and many similar works of a general and of a local character unite in rendering this department rich and important for those who are interested in the history of Asiatic civilization. "The General Geography of the Chinese Empire" is a collection of the statistics of the country, with maps and tables, in two hundred and sixty volumes. The "Statutes of the Reigning Dynasty," from the year 1818, form more than one thousand volumes. Chinese topographical works are characterized by a minuteness of detail rarely equaled.

Historical and literary encyclopaedias form a very notable feature in all Chinese libraries. These works show great research, clearness, and precision, and are largely drawn upon by European scholars. Early in the last century one of the emperors appointed a commission to reprint in one great collection all the works they might think worthy of preservation. The result was a compilation of 6,109 volumes, arranged under thirty-two heads, embracing works on every subject contained in the national literature. This work is unique of its kind, and the largest in the world.

10. POETRY.—The first development of literary talent in China, as elsewhere, is found in poetry, and in the earliest days songs and ballads were brought as offerings from the various principalities to the heads of government. At the time of Confucius there existed a collection of three thousand songs, from which he selected those contained in the "Book of Odes." There is not much sublimity or depth of thought in these odes, but they abound in touches of nature, and are exceedingly interesting and curious, as showing how little change time has effected in the manners and customs of this singular people. Similar in character are the poems of the Tshian-teng-shi, another collection of lyrics published at the expense of the emperor, in several thousand volumes. Among modern poets may be mentioned the Emperor Khian-lung, who died at the close of the last century.

After the time of Confucius the change in Chinese poetry became very marked, and, instead of the peaceful tone of his day, it reflected the unsettled condition of social and political affairs. The simple, monotheistic faith was exchanged for a superstitious belief in a host of gods and goddesses, a contempt for life, and an uncertainty of all beyond it. The period between 620 and 907 A.D., was one of great prosperity, and is looked upon as the golden age.

11. DRAMATIC LITERATURE AND FICTION.—Chinese literature affords no instance of real dramatic poetry or sustained effort of the imagination. The "Hundred Plays of the Yuen Dynasty" is the most celebrated collection, and many have been translated into European languages. One of them, "The Orphan of China," served as the groundwork of Voltaire's tragedy of that name. The drama, however, constitutes a large department in Chinese literature, though there are, properly speaking, no theatres in China. A platform in the open air is the ordinary stage, the decorations are hangings of cotton supported by a few poles of bamboo, and the action is frequently of the coarsest kind. When an actor comes on the stage, he says, "I am the mandarin so-and-so." If the drama requires the actor to enter a house, he takes some steps and says, "I have entered;" and if he is supposed to travel, he does so by rapid running on the stage, cracking his whip, and saying afterwards, "I have arrived." The dialogue is written partly in verse and partly in prose, and the poetry is sometimes sung and sometimes recited. Many of their dramas are full of bustle and abound in incident. They often contain the life and adventures of an individual, some great sovereign or general, a history, in fact, thrown into action. Two thousand volumes of dramatic compositions are known, and the best of these amount to five hundred pieces. Among them may be mentioned the "Orphan of the House of Tacho," and the "Heir in Old Age," which have much force and character, and vividly describe the habits of the people.

The Chinese are fond of historical and moral romances, which, however, are founded on reason and not on imagination, as are the Hindu and Persian tales. Their subjects are not submarine abysses, enchanted palaces, giants and genii, but man as he is in his actual life, as he lives with his fellow-men, with all his virtues and vices, sufferings and joys. But the Chinese novelists show more skill in the details than in the conception of their works; the characters are finished and developed in every respect. The pictures with which they adorn their works are minute and the descriptions poetical, though they often sacrifice to these qualities the unity of the subject. The characters of their novels are principally drawn from the middle class, as governors, literary men, etc. The episodes are, generally speaking, ordinary actions of common life—all the quiet incidents of the phlegmatic life of the Chinese, coupled with the regular and mechanical movements which distinguish that people. Among the numberless Chinese romances there are several which are considered classic. Such are the "Four Great Marvels' Books," and the "Stories of the Pirates on the Coast of Kiangnan."

12. EDUCATION IN CHINA. Most of the Chinese people have a knowledge of the rudiments of education. There is scarcely a man who does not know how to read the hooks of his profession. Public schools are everywhere established; in the cities there are colleges, in which pupils are taught the Chinese literature; and in Peking there is an imperial college for the education of the mandarins. The offices of the empire are only attained by scholarship. There are four literary degrees, which give title to different positions in the country. The government fosters the higher branches of education and patronizes the publication of literary works, which are distributed among the libraries, colleges, and functionaries. The press is restricted only from publishing licentious and revolutionary books.

The future literature of China in many branches will be greatly modified by the introduction of foreign knowledge and influences.

JAPANESE LITERATURE

1. The Language.—2. The Religion.—3. The Literature. Influence of Women.—4. History.—5. The Drama and Poetry.—6. Geography. Newspapers. Novels. Medical Science.—7. Position of Woman.

1. THE LANGUAGE.—The Japanese is considered as belonging to the isolated languages, as philologists have thus far failed to classify it. It is agglutinative in its syntax, each word consisting of an unchangeable root and one or several suffixes. Before the art of writing was known, poems, odes to the gods, and other fragments which still exist had been composed in this tongue, and it is probable that a much larger literature existed. During the first centuries of writing in Japan, the spoken and written language was identical, but with the study of the Chinese literature and the composition of native works almost exclusively in that language, there grew up differences between the colloquial and literary idiom, and the infusion of Chinese words steadily increased. In writing, the Chinese characters occupy the most important place. But all those words which express the wants, feelings, and concerns of everyday life, all that is deepest in the human heart, are for the most part native. If we would trace the fountains of the musical and beautiful language of Japan, we must seek them in the hearts and hear them flow from the lips of the mothers of the Island Empire. Among the anomalies with which Japan has surprised and delighted the world may be claimed that of woman's achievements in the domain of letters. It was woman's services, not man's, that made the Japanese a literary language, and under her influence the mobile forms of speech crystallized into perennial beauty.

The written language has heretofore consisted mainly of characters borrowed from the Chinese, each character representing an idea of its own, so that in order to read and write the student must make himself acquainted with several thousand characters, and years are required to gain proficiency in these elementary arts. There also exists in Japan a syllabary alphabet of forty-seven characters, used at present as an auxiliary to the Chinese. Within a very recent period, since the acquisition of knowledge has become a necessity in Japan, a society has been formed by the most prominent men of the empire, for the purpose of assimilating the spoken and written language, taking the forty-seven native characters as the basis.

2. RELIGION.—The two great religions of Japan are Shintoism and Buddhism. The chief characteristic of the Shinto religion is the worship of ancestors, the deification of emperors, heroes, and scholars, and the adoration of the personified forces of nature. It lays down no precepts, teaches no morals or doctrines, and prescribes no ritual.

The number of Shinto deities is enormous. In its higher form the chief object of the Shinto faith is to enjoy this life; in its lower forms it consists in a blind obedience to governmental and priestly dictates.

On the recent accession of the Mikado to his former supreme power, an attempt was made to restore this ancient faith, but it failed, and Japan continues as it has been for ten centuries in the Buddhist faith.

The religion of Buddha was introduced into Japan 581 A.D., and has exerted a most potent influence in forming the Japanese character.

The Protestants of Japanese Buddhism are the followers of Shinran, 1262 A.D., who have wielded a vast influence in the religious development of the people both for good and evil. In this creed prayer, purity, and earnestness of life are insisted upon. The Scriptures of other sects are written in Sanskrit and Chinese which only the learned are able to read, those of the Shin sect are in the vernacular Japanese idiom. After the death of Shinran, Rennio, who died in 1500 A.D., produced sacred writings now daily read by the disciples of this denomination.

Though greatly persecuted, the Shin sect have continually increased in numbers, wealth, and power, and now lead all in intelligence and influence. Of late they have organized their theological schools on the model of foreign countries that their young men may be trained to resist the Shinto and Christian faiths.

3. THE LITERATURE. INFLUENCE OF WOMEN.—Previous to the fourteenth century learning in Japan was confined to the court circle. The fourteenth, fifteenth, and sixteenth centuries are the dark ages when military domination put a stop to all learning except with, a few priests. With the seventeenth century begins the modern period of general culture. The people are all fond of reading, and it is very common to see circulating libraries carried from house to house on the backs of men.

As early as the tenth century, while the learned affected a pedantic style so interlarded with Chinese as to be unintelligible, the cultivation of the native tongue was left to the ladies of the court, a task which they nobly discharged. It is a remarkable fact, without parallel in the history of letters, that a very large proportion of the best writings of the best ages was the work of women, and their achievement in the domain of letters is one of the anomalies with which Japan has surprised and delighted the world. It was their genius that made the Japanese a literary language. The names and works of these authoresses are quoted at the present day.

4. HISTORY.—The earliest extant Japanese record is a work entitled "Kojiki," or book of ancient traditions. It treats of the creation, the gods and goddesses of the mythological period, and gives the history of the Mikados from the accession of Jimmu, year 1 (660 B.C.), to 1288 of the Japanese year. It was supposed to date from the first half of the eighth century, and another work "Nihonghi," a little later, also treats of the mythological period. It abounds in traces of Chinese influence, and in a measure supersedes the "Kojiki." These are the oldest books in the language. They are the chief exponents of the Shinto faith, and form the bases of many commentaries and subsequent works.

The "History of Great Japan," composed in the latter part of the seventeenth century, by the Lord of Mito (died 1700), is the standard history of the present day. The external history of Japan, in twenty-two volumes, by Rai Sanyo (died 1832), composed in classical Chinese, is most widely read by men of education.

The Japanese are intensely proud of their history and take great care in making and preserving records. Memorial stones are among the most striking sights on the highways and in the towns, villages, and temple yards, in honor of some noted scholar, ruler, or benefactor. Few people are more thoroughly informed as to their own history. Every city, town, and village has its annals. Family records are faithfully copied from generation to generation. Almost every province has its encyclopaedic history, and every high-road its itineraries and guide-books, in which famous places and events are noted. In the large cities professional story-tellers and readers gain a lucrative livelihood by narrating both legendary and classical history, and the theatre is often the most faithful mirror of actual history. There are hundreds of child's histories in Japan. Many of the standard works are profusely illustrated, are models of style and eloquence, and parents delight to instruct their children in the national laws and traditions.

5. THE DRAMA.—The theatre is a favorite amusement, especially among the lower classes; the pieces represented are of a popular character and written in colloquial language, and generally founded on national history and tradition, or on the lives and adventures of the heroes and gods; and the scene is always laid in Japan. The play begins in the morning and lasts all day, spectators bringing their food with them. No classical dramatic author is known.

Poetry has always been a favorite study with the Japanese. The most ancient poetical fragment, called a "Collection of Myriad Leaves," dates from the eighth century. The collection of "One Hundred Persons" is much later, and contains many poems written by the emperors themselves. The Japanese possess no great epic or didactic poems, although some of their lyrics are happy examples of quaint modes of thought and expression. It is difficult to translate them into a foreign tongue.

6. GEOGRAPHY. NEWSPAPERS AND NOVELS.—The largest section of Japanese literature is that treating of the local geography of the country itself. These works are minute in detail and of great length, describing events and monuments of historic interest.

Before the recent revolution bat one newspaper existed in Japan, but at present the list numbers several hundred. Freedom of the press is unknown, and fines and imprisonment for violation of the stringent laws are very frequent.

Novels constitute a large section of Japanese literature. Fairy tales and story books abound. Many of them are translated into English; "The Royal Ronans" and other works have recently been published in New York.

Medical science was borrowed from China, but upon this, as upon other matters, the Japanese improved. Acupuncture, or the introduction of needles into the living tissues for remedial purposes, was invented by the Japanese, as was the moxa, or the burning of the flesh for the same purpose.

7. POSITION OF WOMAN.—Women in Japan are treated with far more respect and consideration than elsewhere in the East. According to Japanese history the women of the early centuries were possessed of more intellectual and physical vigor, filling the offices of state and religion, and reaching a high plane of social dignity and honor. Of the one hundred and twenty-three Japanese sovereigns, nine have been women. The great heroine of Japanese history and tradition was the Empress Jingu, renowned for her beauty, piety, intelligence, and martial valor, who, about 200 A.D., invaded and conquered Corea.

The female children of the lower classes receive tuition in private schools so generally established during the last two centuries throughout the country, and those of the higher classes at the hands of private tutors or governesses; and in every household may be found a great number of books exclusively on the duties of women.

SANSKRIT LITERATURE.

1. The Language.—2. The Social Constitution of India. Brahmanism.—3. Characteristics of the Literature and its Divisions.—4. The Vedas and other Sacred Books.—5. Sanskrit Poetry; Epic; The Ramayana and Mahabharata. Lyric Poetry. Didactic Poetry; the Hitopadesa. Dramatic Poetry.—6.. History and Science.—7. Philosophy. 8. Buddhism.—9. Moral Philosophy. The Code of Manu.—10. Modern Literatures of India.—11. Education. The Brahmo Somaj.

1. THE LANGUAGE.—Sanskrit is the literary language of the Hindus, and for two thousand years has served as the means of learned intercourse and composition. The name denotes cultivated or perfected, in distinction to the Prakrit or uncultivated, which sprang from it and was contemporary with it.

The study of Sanskrit by European scholars dates less than a century back, and it is important as the vehicle of an immense literature which lays open the outward and inner life of a remarkable people from a remote epoch nearly to the present day, and as being the most ancient and original of the Indo-European languages, throwing light upon them all. The Aryan or Indo-European race had its ancient home in Central Asia. Colonies migrated to the west and founded the Persian, Greek, and Roman civilization, and settled in Spain and England. Other branches found their way through the passes of the Himalayas and spread themselves over India. Wherever they went they asserted their superiority over the earlier people whom they found in possession of the soil, and the history of civilization is everywhere the history of the Aryan race. The forefathers of the Greek and Roman, of the Englishman and the Hindu, dwelt together in India, spoke the same language, and worshiped the same gods. The languages of Europe and India are merely different forms of the original Aryan speech. This is especially true of the words of common family life. Father, mother, brother, sister, and widow, are substantially the same in most of the Aryan languages, whether spoken on the banks of the Ganges, the Tiber, or the Thames. The word daughter, which occurs in nearly all of them, is derived from the Sanskrit word signifying to draw milk, and preserves the memory of the time when the daughter was the little milkmaid in the primitive Aryan household.

It is probable that as late as the third or fourth century B.C. it was still spoken. New dialects were engrafted upon it which at length superseded it, though it has continued to be revered as the sacred and literary language of the country. Among the modern tongues of India, the Hindui and the Hindustani may be mentioned; the former, the language of the pure Hindu population, is written in Sanskrit characters; the latter is the language of the Mohammedan Hindus, in which Arabic letters are used. Many of the other dialects spoken and written in Northern India are derived from the Sanskrit. Of the more important among them there are English grammars and dictionaries.

2. SOCIAL CONSTITUTION OF INDIA.—Hindu literature takes its character both from the social and the religious institutions of the country. The social constitution is based on the distinction of classes into which the people, from the earliest times, have been divided, and which were the natural effect of the long struggle between the aboriginal tribes and the new race which had invaded India. These castes are four: 1st. The Brahmins or priests; 2d. The warriors and princes; 3d. The husbandmen; 4th. The laborers. There are, besides, several impure classes, the result of an intermingling of the different castes. Of these lower classes some are considered utterly abominable—as that of the Pariahs. The different castes are kept distinct from each other by the most rigorous laws; though in modern times the system has been somewhat modified.

THE RELIGION.

In the period of the Vedas the religion of the Hindus was founded on the simple worship of Nature. But the Pantheism of this age was gradually superseded by the worship of the one Brahm, from which, according to this belief, the soul emanated, and to which it seeks to return. Brahm is an impersonality, the sum of all nature, the germ of all that is. Existence has no purpose, the world is wholly evil, and all good persons should desire to be taken out of it and to return to Brahm. This end is to be attained only by transmigration of the soul through all previous stages of life, migrating into the body of a higher or lower being according to the sins or merits of its former existence, either to finish or begin anew its purification. This religion of the Hindus led to the growth of a philosophy the precursor of that of Greece, whose aims were loftier and whose methods more ingenious.

From Brahm, the impersonal soul of the universe, emanated the personal and active Brahma, who with Siva and Vishnu constitute the Trimurti or god under three forms.

Siva is the second of the Hindu deities, and represents the primitive animating and destroying forces of nature. His symbols relate to these powers, and are worshiped more especially by the Sivaites—a numerous sect of this religion. The worshipers of Vishnu, called the Preserver, the first-born of Brahma, constitute the most extensive sect of India, and their ideas relating to this form of the Divinity are represented by tradition and poetry, and are particularly developed in the great monuments of Sanskrit literature. The myths connected with Vishnu refer especially to his incarnations or corporeal apparitions both in men and animals, which he submits to in order to conquer the spirit of evil.

These incarnations are called Avatars, or descendings, and form an important part of Hindu epic poetry. Of the ten Avatars which are attributed to Vishnu, nine have already taken place; the last is yet to come, when the god shall descend again from heaven, to destroy the present world, and to restore peace and parity. The three forms of the Deity, emanating mutually from each other, are expressed by the three symbols, A U M, three letters in Sanskrit having but one sound, forming the mystical name Om, which never escapes the lips of the Hindus, but is meditated on in silence. The predominant worship of one or the other of these forms constitutes the peculiarities of the numerous sects of this religion.

There are other inferior divinities, symbols of the forces of nature, guardians of the world, demi-gods, demons, and heroes, whose worship, however, is considered as a mode of reaching that divine rest, immersion and absorption in Brahm. To this end are directed the sacrifices, the prayers, the ablutions, the pilgrimages, and the penances, which occupy so large a place in the Hindu worship.

3. CHARACTERISTICS OF THE LITERATURE AND ITS DIVISIONS.—A greater part of the Sanskrit literature, which counts its works by thousands, still remains in manuscript. It was nearly all composed in metre, even works of law, morality, and science. Every department of knowledge and every branch of inquiry is represented, with the single exception of history, and this forms the most striking general characteristic of the literature, and one which robs it of a great share of worth and interest. Its place is in the intellectual rather than in the political history of the world.

The literary monuments of the Sanskrit language correspond to the great eras in the history of India. The first period reaches back to that remote age, when those tribes of the Aryan race speaking Sanskrit emigrated to the northwestern portion of the Indian Peninsula, and established themselves there, an agricultural and pastoral people. That was the age in which were composed the prayers, hymns, and precepts afterwards collected in the form of the Vedas, the sacred books of the country. In the second period, the people, incited by the desire of conquest, penetrated into the fertile valleys lying between the Indus and the Ganges; and the struggle with the aboriginal inhabitants, which followed their invasion, gave birth to epic poetry, in which the wars of the different races were celebrated and the extension of Hindu civilization related. The third period embraces the successive ages of the formation and development of a learned and artistic literature. It contains collections of the ancient traditions, expositions of the Vedas, works on grammar, lexicography, and science; and its conclusion forms the golden age of Sanskrit literature, when, the country being ruled by liberal princes, poetry, and especially the drama, reached its highest degree of perfection.

The chronology of these periods varies according to the systems of different orientalists. It is, however, admitted that the Vedas are the first literary productions of India, and that their origin cannot be later than the fifteenth century B.C. The period of the Vedas embraces the other sacred books, or commentaries founded upon them, though written several centuries afterwards. The second period, to which belong the two great epic poems, the "Ramayana" and the "Mahabharata," according to the best authorities ends with the sixth or seventh century B.C. The third period embraces all the poetical and scientific works written from that time to the third or fourth century B.C., when the language, having been progressively refined, became fixed in the writings of Kalidasa, Jayadeva, and other poets. A fourth period, including the tenth century A.D., may be added, distinguished by its erudition, grammatical, rhetorical, and scientific disquisitions, which, however, is not considered as belonging to the classical age. From the Hindu languages, originating in the Sanskrit, new literatures have sprung; but they are essentially founded on the ancient literature, which far surpasses them in extent and importance, and is the great model of them all. Indeed, its influence has not been limited to India; all the poetical and scientific works of Asia, China, and Japan included, have borrowed largely from it, and in Southern Russia the scanty literature of the Kalmucks is derived entirely from Hindu sources. The Sanskrit literature, known to Europe only recently, through the researches of the English and German orientalists, has now become the auxiliary and foundation of all philological studies.

4. THE VEDAS AND OTHER SACRED BOOKS.—The Vedas (knowledge or science) are the Bible of the Hindus, the most ancient book of the Aryan family, and contain the revelation of Brahm which was preserved by tradition and collected by Vyasa, a name which means compiler. The word Veda, however, should be taken, as a collective name for the sacred literature of the Vedic age which forms the background of the whole Indian world. Many works belonging to that age are lost, though a large number still exists.

The most important of the Vedas are three in number. First, The "Rig-
Veda," which is the great literary memorial of the settlement of the
Aryans in the Punjaub, and of their religious hymns and songs. Second, The
"Yajur-Veda." Third, The "Sama-Veda."

Each Veda divided into two parts: the first contains prayers and invocations, most of which are of a rhythmical character; the second records the precepts relative to those prayers and to the ceremonies of the sacrifices, and describes the religious myths and symbols.

There are many commentaries on the Vedas of an ancient date, which are considered as sacred books, and relate to medicine, music, astronomy, astrology, grammar, philosophy, jurisprudence, and, indeed, to the whole circle of Hindu science.

They represent a period of unknown antiquity, when the Aryans were divided into tribes of which the chieftain was the father and priest, and when women held a high position. Some of the most beautiful hymns of this age were composed by ladies and queens. The morals of Avyan, a woman of an early age, are still taught in the Hindu schools as the golden rule of life.

India to-day acknowledges no higher authority in matters of religion, ceremonial, customs, and law than the Vedas, and the spirit of Vedantism, which is breathed by every Hindu from his earliest youth, pervades the prayers of the idolater, the speculations of the philosopher, and the proverbs of the beggar.

The "Puranas" (ancient writings) hold an eminent rank in the religion and literature of the Hindus. Though of a more recent date than the Vedas, they possess the credit of an ancient and divine origin, and exercise an extensive and practical influence upon the people. They comprise vast collections of ancient traditions relating to theology, cosmology, and to the genealogy of gods and heroes. There are eighteen acknowledged Puranas, which altogether contain 400,000 stanzas. The "Upapuranas," also eighteen in number, are commentaries on the Puranas. Finally, to the sacred books, and next to the Vedas both in antiquity and authority, belong the "Manavadharmasastra," or the ordinances of Manu, spoken of hereafter.

5. SANSKRIT POETRY.—This poetry, springing from the lively and powerful imagination of the Hindus, is inspired by their religious doctrines, and embodied in the most harmonious language. Exalted by their peculiar belief in pantheism and metempsychosis, they consider the universe and themselves as directly emanating from Brahm, and they strive to lose their own individuality, in its infinite essence. Yet, as impure beings, they feel their incapacity to obtain the highest moral perfection, except through a continual atonement, to which all nature is condemned. Hence Hindu poetry expresses a profound melancholy, which pervades the character as well as the literature of that people. This poetry breathes a spirit of perpetual sacrifice of the individual self, as the ideal of human life. The bards of India, inspired by this predominant feeling, have given to poetry nearly every form it has assumed in the Western world, and in each and all they have excelled.

Sanskrit poetry is both metrical and rhythmical, equally free from the confused strains of unmoulded genius and from the servile pedantry of conventional rules. The verse of eight syllables is the source of all other metres, and the sloka or double distich is the stanza most frequently used. Though this poetry presents too often extravagance of ideas, incumbrance of episodes, and monstrosity of images, as a general rule it is endowed with simplicity of style, pure coloring, sublime ideas, rare figures, and chaste epithets. Its exuberance must be attributed to the strange mythology of the Hindus, to the immensity of the fables which constitute the groundwork of their poems, and to the gigantic strength of their poetical imaginations. A striking peculiarity of Sanskrit poetry is its extensive use in treating of those subjects apparently the most difficult to reduce to a metrical form—not only the Vedas and Manu's code are composed in verse, but the sciences are expressed in this form. Even in the few works which may be called prose, the style is so modulated and bears so great a resemblance to the language of poetry as scarcely to be distinguished from it. The history of Sanskrit poetry is, in reality, the history of Sanskrit literature.

The subjects of the epic poems of the Hindus are derived chiefly from their religious tenets, and relate to the incarnations of the gods, who, in their human forms, become the heroes of this poetry. The idea of an Almighty power warring against the spirit of evil destroys the possibility of struggle, and impairs the character of epic poetry; but the Hindu poets, by submitting their gods both to fate and to the condition of men, diminish their power and give them the character of epic heroes.

The Hindu mythology, however, is the great obstacle which must ever prevent this poetry from becoming popular in the Western world. The great personifications of the Deity have not been softened down, as in the mythology of the Greeks, to the perfection of human symmetry, but are here exhibited in their original gigantic forms. Majesty is often expressed by enormous stature; power, by multitudinous hands; providence, by countless eyes; and omnipresence, by innumerable bodies.

In addition to this, Hindu epic poetry departs so far from what may be called the vernacular idiom of thought and feeling, and refers to a people whose political and religious institutions, as well as moral habits, are so much at variance with our own, that no labor or skill could render its associations familiar.

The Ramayana and the Mahabharata are the most important and sublime creations of Hindu literature, and the most colossal epic poems to be found in the literature of the world. They surpass in magnitude the Iliad and Odyssey, the Jerusalem Delivered and the Lusiad, as the pyramids of Egypt tower above the temples of Greece.

The Ramayana (Rama and yana, expedition) describes the exploits of Rama, an incarnation of Vishnu, and the son of Dasaratha, king of Oude. Ravana, the prince of demons, bad stolen from the gods the privilege of being invulnerable, and had thus acquired an equality with them. He could not be overcome except by a man, and the gods implored Vishnu to become incarnate in order that Ravana might be conquered. The origin and the development of this Avatar, the departing of Rama for the battlefield, the divine signs of his mission, his love and marriage with Sita, the daughter of the king Janaka, the persecution of his step-mother, by which the hero is sent into exile, his penance in the desert, the abduction of his bride by Ravana, the gigantic battles that ensue, the rescue of Sita, and the triumph of Rama constitute the principal plot of this wonderful poem, full of incidents and episodes of the most singular and beautiful character. Among these may be mentioned the descent of the goddess Ganga, which relates to the mythological origin of the river Ganges, and the story of Yajnadatta, a young penitent, who through mistake was killed by Dasaratha; the former splendid for its rich imagery, the latter incomparable for its elegiac character, and for its expression of the passionate sorrow of parental affection.

The Ramayana was written by Valmiki, a poet belonging to an unknown period. It consists of seven cantos, and contains twenty-five thousand verses. The original, with its translation into Italian, was published in Paris by the government of Sardinia about the middle of this century.

The Mahabharata (the great Bharata) has nearly the same antiquity as the Ramayana. It describes the greatest Avatar of Vishnu, the incarnation of the god in Krishna, and it presents a vast picture of the Hindu religion. It relates to the legendary history of the Bharata dynasty, especially to the wars between the Pandus and Kurus, two branches of a princely family of ancient India. Five sons of Pandu, having been unjustly exiled by their uncle, return, after many wonderful adventures, with a powerful army to oppose the Kurus, and being aided by Krishna, the incarnated Vishnu, defeat their enemies and become lords of all the country. The poem describes the birth of Krishna, his escape from the dangers which surrounded his cradle, his miracles, his pastoral life, his rescue of sixteen thousand young girls who had become prisoners of a giant, his heroic deeds in the war of the Pandus, and finally his ascent to heaven, where he still leads the round dances of the spheres. This work is not more remarkable for the grandeur of its conceptions than for the information it affords respecting the social and religious systems of the ancient Hindus, which are here revealed with majestic and sublime eloquence. Five of its most esteemed episodes are called the Five Precious Stones. First among these may be mentioned the "Bhagavad-Gita," or the Divine Song, containing the revelation of Krishna, in the form of a dialogue between the god and his pupil Arjuna. Schlegel calls this episode the most beautiful, and perhaps the most truly philosophical, poem that the whole range of literature has produced.

The Mahabharata is divided into eighteen cantos, and it contains two hundred thousand verses. It is attributed to Vyasa, the compiler of the Vedas, but it appears that it was the result of a period of literature rather than the work of a single poet. Its different incidents and episodes were probably separate poems, which from the earliest age were sung by the people, and later, by degrees, collected in one complete work. Of the Mahabharata we possess only a few episodes translated into English, such as the Bhagavad-Gita, by Wilkins.

At a later period other epic poems were written, either as abridgments of the Ramayana and the Mahabharata, or founded on episodes contained in them. These, however, belong to a lower order of composition, and cannot be compared with the great works of Valmiki and Vyasa.

In the development of lyric poetry the Hindu bards, particularly those of the third period, have been eminently successful; their power is great in the sublime and the pathetic, and manifests itself more particularly in awakening the tender sympathies of our nature. Here we find many poems full of grace and delicacy, and splendid for their charming descriptions of nature. Such are the "Meghaduta" and the "Ritusanhara" of Kalidasa, the "Madhava and Radha" of Jayadeva, and especially the "Gita-Govinda" of the same poet, or the adventures of Krishna as a shepherd, a poem in which the soft languors of love are depicted in enchanting colors, and which is adorned with all the magnificence of language and sentiment.

Hindu poetry has a particular tendency to the didactic style and to embody religious and historical knowledge; every subject is treated in the form of verse, such as inscriptions, deeds, and dictionaries. Splendid examples of didactic poetry may be found in the episodes of the epic poems, and more particularly in the collections of fables and apologues in which the Sanskrit literature abounds. Among these the Hitopadesa is the most celebrated, in which Vishnu-saima instructs the sons of a king committed to his care. Perhaps there is no book, except the Bible, which has been translated into so many languages as these fables. They have spread in two branches over nearly the whole civilized world. The one, under the original name of the Hitopadesa, remains almost confined to India, while the other, under the title of "Calila and Dimna," has become famous over all western Asia and in all the countries of Europe, and has served as the model of the fables of all languages. To this department belong also the "Adventures of the Ten Princes," by Dandin, which, in an artistic point of view, is far superior to any other didactic writings of Hindu literature.

The drama is the most interesting branch of Hindu literature. No other ancient people, except the Greeks, has brought forth anything so admirable in this department. It had its most flourishing period probably in the third or fourth century B.C. Its origin is attributed to Brahm, and its subjects are selected from the mythology. Whether the drama represents the legends of the gods, or the simple circumstances of ordinary life; whether it describes allegorical or historical subjects, it bears always the same character of its origin and of its tendency. Simplicity of plot, unity of episodes, and purity of language, unite in the formation of the Hindu dramas. Prose and verse, the serious and the comic, pantomime and music are intermingled in their representations. Only the principal characters, the gods, the Brahmins, and the kings, speak Sanskrit; women and the less important characters speak Prakrit, more or less refined according to their rank. Whatever may offend propriety, whatever may produce an unwholesome excitement, is excluded; for the hilarity of the audience, there is an occasional introduction on the stage of a parasite or a buffoon. The representation is usually opened by an apologue and always concluded with a prayer.

Kalidasa, the Hindu Shakespeare, has been called by his countrymen the Bridegroom of Poetry. His language is harmonious and elevated, and in his compositions he unites grace and tenderness with grandeur and sublimity. Many of his dramas contain episodes selected from the epic poems, and are founded on the principles of Brahmanism. The "Messenger Cloud" of this author, a monologue rather than a drama, is unsurpassed in beauty of sentiment by any European poet. "Sakuntala," or the Fatal Ring, is considered one of the best dramas of Kalidasa. It has been translated into English by Sir W. Jones.

Bhavabhuti, a Brahmin by birth, was called by his contemporaries the Sweet Speaking. He was the author of many dramas of distinguished merit, which rank next to those of Kalidasa.

6. HISTORY AND SCIENCE.—History, considered as the development of mankind in relation to its ideal, is unknown to Sanskrit literature. Indeed, the only historical work thus far discovered is the "History of Cashmere," a series of poetical compositions, written by different authors at different periods, the last of which brings down the annals to the sixteenth century A.D., when Cashmere became a province of the Mogul empire.

In the scientific department, the works on Sanskrit grammar and lexicography are models of logical and analytical research. There are also valuable works on jurisprudence, on rhetoric, poetry, music, and other arts. The Hindu system of decimal notation made its way through the Arabs to modern nations, our usual figures being, in their origin, letters of the Sanskrit alphabet. Their medical and surgical knowledge is deserving of study.

7. PHILOSOPHY.—The object of Hindu philosophy consists in obtaining emancipation from metempsychosis, through the absorption of the soul into Brahm, or the universal being. According to the different principles which philosophers adopt in attaining this supreme object, their doctrines are divided into the four following systems: 1st, Sensualism; 2d, Idealism; 3d, Mysticism; 4th, Eclecticism.

Sensualism is represented in the school of Kapila, according to whose doctrine the purification of the soul must be effected through knowledge, the only source of which lies in sensual perception. In this system, nature, eternal and universal, is considered as the first cause, which produces intelligence and all the other principles of knowledge and existence. This philosophy of nature leads some of its followers to seek their purification in the sensual pleasures of this life, and in the loss of their own individuality in nature itself, in which they strive to be absorbed. Materialism, fatalism, and atheism are the natural consequences of the system of Kapila.

Idealism is the foundation of three philosophical schools: the Dialectic, the Atomic, and the Vedanta. The Dialectic school considers the principles of knowledge as entirely distinct from nature; it admits the existence of universal ideas in the human mind; it establishes the syllogistic form as the complete method of reasoning, and finally, it holds as fundamental the duality of intelligence and nature. In this theory, the soul is considered as distinct from Brahm and also from the body. Man can approach Brahm, can unite himself to the universal soul, but can never lose his own individuality.

The Atomic doctrine explains the origin of the world through the combination of eternal, simple atoms. It belongs to Idealism, for the predominance which it gives to ideas over sensation, and for the individuality and consciousness which it recognizes in man.

The Vedanta is the true ideal pantheistic philosophy of India. It considers Brahm in two different states: first, as a pure, simple, abstract, and inert essence; secondly, as an active individuality. Nature in this system is only a special quality or quantity of Brahm, having no actual reality, and he who turns away from ail that is unreal and changeable and contemplates Brahm unceasingly, becomes one with it, and attains liberation.

Mysticism comprehends all doctrines which deny authority to reason, and admit no other principles of knowledge or rule of life than supernatural or direct revelation. To this system belong the doctrines of Patanjali, which teach that man must emancipate himself from metempsychosis through contemplation and ecstasy to be attained by the calm of the senses, by corporeal penance, suspension of breath, and immobility of position. The followers of this school pass their lives in solitude, absorbed in this mystic contemplation. The forests, the deserts, and the environs of the temples are filled with these mystics, who, thus separated from external life, believe themselves the subjects of supernatural illumination and power. The Bhagavad-Gita, already spoken of, is the best exposition of this doctrine.

The Eclectic school comprises all theories which deny the authority of the Vedas, and admit rational principles borrowed both from sensualism and idealism. Among these doctrines Buddhism is the principal.

8. BUDDHISM.—Buddhism is so called from Buddha, a name meaning deified teacher, which was given to Sakyamuni, or Saint Sakya, a reformer of Brahmanism, who introduced into the Hindu religion a more simple creed, and a milder and more humane code of morality. The date of the origin of this reform is uncertain. It is probably not earlier than the sixth century B.C. Buddhism, essentially a proselyting religion, spread over Central Asia and through the island of Ceylon. Its followers in India being persecuted and expelled from the country, penetrated into Thibet, and pushing forward into the wilderness of the Kalmucks and Mongols, entered China and Japan, where they introduced their warship under the name of the religion of Fo. Buddhism is more extensively diffused than any other form of religion in the world. Though it has never extended beyond the limits of Asia, its followers number over four hundred millions.

As a philosophical school, Buddhism partakes both of sensualism and idealism; it admits sensual perception as the source of knowledge, but it grants to nature only an apparent existence. On this universal illusion, Buddhism founded a gigantic system of cosmogony, establishing an infinity of degrees in the scale of existences from that of pure being without form or quality to the lowest emanations. According to Buddha, the object of philosophy, as well as of religion, is the deliverance of the soul from metempsychosis, and therefore from all pain and illusion. He teaches that to break the endless rotation of transmigration the soul must be prevented from being born again, by purifying it even from the desire of existence. He denied the authority of the Vedas, and abolished or ignored the division of the people into castes, admitting whoever desired it to the priesthood. Notwithstanding the doctrine of metempsychosis, and the belief that life is only an endless round of birth and death, sin and suffering, the most sacred Buddhistic books teach a pure and elevated morality, and that the highest happiness is only to be reached through self-abnegation, universal benevolence, humility, patience, courage, self-knowledge, and contemplation. Much has been added to the original doctrines of Buddha in the way of mythology, sacrifices, penances, mysticism, and hierarchy.

Buddhism possesses a literature of its own; its language and style are simple and intelligible to the common people, to whom it is particularly addressed. For this reason the priests of this religion prefer to write in the dialects used by the people, and indeed some of their principal works are written in Prakrit or in Pali. Among these are many legends, and chronicles, and books on theology and jurisprudence. The literary men of Buddhism are generally the priests, who receive different names in different countries. A complete collection of the sacred books of Buddhism forms a theological body of one hundred and eight volumes.

9. MORAL PHILOSOPHY.—The moral philosophy of India is contained in the Sacred Book of Manavadharmasastra, or Code of Manu. This embraces a poetical account of Brahma and other gods, of the origin of the world and man, and of the duties arising from the relation of man towards Brahma and towards his fellow-men. Whether regarded for its great antiquity and classic beauty, or for its importance as being considered of divine revelation by the Hindu people, this Code must ever claim the attention of those who devote themselves to the study of the Sanskrit literature. Though inferior to the Vedas in antiquity, it is held to be equally sacred; and being more closely connected with the business of life, it has done so much towards moulding the opinions of the Hindus that it would be impossible to comprehend the literature or local usages of India without being master of its contents.

It is believed by the Hindus that Brahma taught his laws to Manu in one hundred thousand verses, and that they were afterwards abridged for the use of mankind to four thousand. It is most probable that the work attributed to Manu is a collection made from various sources and at different periods.

Among the duties prescribed by the laws of Manu man is enjoined to exert a full dominion over his senses, to study sacred science, to keep his heart pure, without which sacrifices are useless, to speak only when necessity requires, and to despise worldly honors. His principal duties toward his neighbor are to honor old age, to respect parents, the mother more than a thousand fathers, and the Brahmins more than father or mother, to injure no one, even in wish. Woman is taught that she cannot aspire to freedom, a girl is to depend on her father, a wife on her husband, and a widow on her son. The law forbids her to marry a second time.

The Code of Manu is divided into twelve books or chapters, in which are treated separately the subjects of creation, education, marriage, domestic economy, the art of living, penal and civil laws, of punishments and atonements, of transmigration, and of the final blessed state. These ordinances or institutes contain much to be admired and much to be condemned. They form a system of despotism and priestcraft, both limited by law, but artfully conspiring to give mutual support, though with mutual checks. A spirit of sublime elevation and amiable benevolence pervades the whole work, sufficient to prove the author to have adored not the visible sun, but the incomparably greater light, according to the Vedas, which illuminates all, delights all, from which all proceed, to which all must return, and which alone can irradiate our souls.

10. MODERN LITERATURES OF INDIA.—The literature of the modern tongues of the Hindus consists chiefly of imitations and translations from the Sanskrit, Persian, Arabic, and from European languages. There is, however, an original epic poem, written in Hindui by Tshand, under the title of the "Adventures of Prithivi Raja," which is second only to the great Sanskrit poems. This work, which relates to the twelfth century A.D., describes the struggle of the Hindus against their Mohammedan conquerors. The poem of "Ramayana," by Tulsi-Das, and that of the "Ocean of Love," are extremely popular in India. The modern dialects contain many religious and national songs of exquisite beauty and delicacy. Among the poets of India, who have written in these dialects, Sauday, Mir-Mohammed Taqui, Wali, and Azad are the principal.

The Hindi, which dates from the eleventh century A.D., is one of the languages of Aryan stock still spoken in Northern India. One of its principal dialects is the Hindustani, which is employed in the literature of the northern country. Its two divisions are the Hindi and Urdu, which represent the popular side of the national culture, and are almost exclusively used at the present day; the first chiefly by writers not belonging to the Brahminical order, while those of the Urdu dialect follow Persian models. The writings in each, though numerous, and not without pretension, have little interest for the European reader.

11. EDUCATION IN INDIA.—For the education of the Brahmins and of the higher classes, there was founded, in 1792, a Sanskrit College at Benares, the Hindu capital. The course of instruction embraces Persian, English, and Hindu law, and general literature. In 1854 universities were established at Calcutta, Madras, and Bombay. Of late public instruction has become a department of the government, and schools and colleges for higher instruction have been established in various parts of the country, and books and newspapers in English and in the vernacular are everywhere increasing. As far back as 1824 the American and English missionaries were the pioneers of female education. The recent report of the Indian Commission of Education deals particularly with this question, and attributes the wide difference between the extent of male and female acquirements to no inferiority in the mental capacities of women; on the contrary, they find their intellectual activity very keen, and often outlasting the mental energies of men. According to the traditions of pre-historic times, women occupied a high place in the early civilization of India, and their capacity to govern is shown by the fact, that at the present day one of the best administered States has been ruled by native ladies during two generations, and that the most ably managed of the great landed properties are entirely in the hands of women. The chief causes which retard their education are to be found in the social customs of the country, the seclusion in which women live, the appropriation of the educational fund to the schools for boys, and the need of trained teachers.

Notwithstanding all these disadvantages, the first Asiatic writer in the languages of the West who has made a literary fame in Europe is a young Hindu girl, Tora Dutt (1856-1877), whose writings in prose and verse in English, as well as in French, have called forth admiration and astonishment from the critics, and a sincere lament for her early death.

12. THE BRAMO-SOMAJ.—In 1830, under this name (Worshiping Assembly), Rammohun Roy founded a religious society in India, of which, after him, Keshub Chunder Sen (died 1884) was the most eminent member. Their aim is to establish a new religion for India and the world, founded on a belief in one God, which shall be freed from all the errors and corruptions of the past. They propose many important reforms, such as the abolition of caste, the remodeling of marriage customs, the emancipation and education of women, the abolition of infanticide and the worship of ancestors, and a general moral regeneration. Their chief aid to spiritual growth may be summed up in four words, self-culture, meditation, personal purity, and universal beneficence. Their influence has been already felt in the legislative affairs of India.

BABYLONIAN AND ASSYRIAN LITERATURE

1. The Accadians and Babylonians.—2. The Cuneiform Letters.—3. Babylonian and Assyrian Remains.

1. ACCADIANS AND BABYLONIANS.—Geographically, as well as historically and ethnographically, the district lying between the Tigris and Euphrates forms but one country, though the rival kingdoms of Assyria and Babylonia became, each in turn, superior to the other. The primitive inhabitants of this district were called Accadians, or Chaldeans, but little or nothing was known of them until within the last fifteen or twenty years. Their language was agglutinative, and they were the inventors of the cuneiform system of writing. The Babylonians conquered this people, borrowed their signs, and incorporated their literature. Soon after their conquest by the Babylonians, they established priestly caste in the state and assumed the worship, laws, and manners of their conquerors. They were devoted to the science of the stars, and determined the equinoctial and solstitial points, divided the ecliptic into twelve parts and the day into hours. The signs, names, and figures of the Zodiac, and the invention of the dial are some of the improvements in astronomy attributed to this people. With the decline of Babylon their influence declined, and they were afterwards known to the Greeks and Romans only as astrologers, magicians, and soothsayers.

2. THE CUNEIFORM LETTERS.—These characters, borrowed by the Semitic conquerors of the Accadians, the Babylonians, and Assyrians, were originally hieroglyphics, each denoting an object or an idea, but they were gradually corrupted into the forms we see on Assyrian monuments. They underwent many changes, and the various periods are distinguished as Archaic, hieratic, Assyrian, and later Babylonian.

3. BABYLONIAN AND ASSYRIAN REMAINS.—The origin and history of this civilization have only been made known to us by the very recent decipherment of native monuments. Before these discoveries the principal source of information was found in the writings of Borosus, a priest of Babylon, who lived about 300 B.C., and who translated the records of astronomy into Greek. Though his works have perished, we have quotations from them in Eusebius and other writers, which have been strikingly verified by the inscriptions. The chief work on astronomy, compiled for Sargon, one of the earliest Babylonian monarchs, is inscribed on seventy tablets, a copy of which is in the British Museum. The Babylonians understood the movements of the heavenly bodies, and Calisthenes, who accompanied Alexander on his eastern expedition, brought with him on his return the observations of 1903 years. The main purpose of all Babylonian astronomical observation, however, was astrological, to cast horoscopes, or to predict the weather. Babylon retained for a long time its ancient splendor after the conquest by Cyrus and the final fall of the empire, and in the first period of the Macedonian sway. But soon after that time its fame was extinguished, and its monuments, arts, and sciences perished.

Assyria was a land of soldiers and possessed little native literature. The more peaceful pursuits had their home in Babylonia, where the universities of Erech and Borsippa were renowned down to classical times. The larger part of this literature was stamped in clay tablets and baked, and these were numbered and arranged in order. Papyrus was also used, but none of this fragile material has been preserved.

In the reign of Sardanapalus (660-647 B.C.) Assyrian art and literature reached their highest point. In the ruins of his palace have been found three chambers the floors of which were covered a foot deep with tablets of all sizes, from an inch to nine inches long, bearing inscriptions many of them so minute as to be read only by the aid of a magnifying glass. Though broken they have been partially restored and are among the most precious cuneiform inscriptions. They have only been deciphered within the present century, and thousands of inscriptions are yet buried among the ruins of Assyria. The most interesting of these remains yet discovered are the hymns to the gods, some of which strikingly resemble the Hebrew Psalms. Of older date is the collection of formulas which consists of omens and hymns and tablets relating to astronomy. Later than the hymns are the mythological poems, two of which are preserved intact. They are "The Deluge" and "The Descent of Istar into Hades." They form part of a very remarkable epic which centred round the adventures of a solar hero, and into which older and independent lays were woven as episodes. Copies are preserved in the British Museum. The literature on the subject of these remains is very extensive and rapidly increasing.

PHOENICIAN LITERATURE.

The Language.—The Remains.

The Phoenician language bore a strong affinity to the Hebrew, through which alone the inscriptions on coins and monuments can be interpreted, and these constitute the entire literary remains, though the Phoenicians had doubtless their archives and written laws. The inscriptions engraved on stone or metal are found chiefly in places once colonies, remote from Phoenicia itself. The Phoenician alphabet forms the basis of the Semitic and Indo-European graphic systems, and was itself doubtless based on the Egyptian hieratic writing. Sanchuniathon is the name given as that of the author of a history of Phoenicia which was translated into Greek and published by Philo, a grammarian of the second century A.D. A considerable fragment of this work is preserved in Eusebius, but after much learned controversy it is now believed that it was the work of Philo himself.

SYRIAC LITERATURE.

The Language.—Influence of the Literature In the Eighth and Ninth
Century.

THE LANGUAGE.—The Aramaic language, early spoken in Syria and Mesopotamia, is a branch of the Semitic, and of this tongue the Chaldaic and Syriac were dialects. Chaldaic is supposed to be the language of Babylonia at the time of the captivity, and the earliest remains are a part of the Books of Daniel and Ezra, and the paraphrases or free translations of the Old Testament. The Hebrews having learned this language during the Babylonian exile, it continued in use for some time after their return, though the Hebrew remained the written and sacred tongue. Gradually, however, it lost this prerogative, and in the second century A.D. the Chaldaic was the only spoken language of Palestine. It is still used by the Nestorians and Maronites in their religious services and in their literary works. The spoken language of Syria has undergone many changes corresponding to the political changes of the country.

The most prominent Syriac author is St. Ephraem, or Ephraem Syrus (350 A.D.), with whom begins the best period of Syriac literature, which continued until the ninth century. A great part of this literature has been lost, and what remains is only partially accessible. Its principal work was in the eighth and ninth centuries in introducing classical learning to the knowledge of the Arabs. In the seventh century, Jacob of Edessa gave the classical and sacred dialect its final form, and from this time the series of native grammarians and lexicographers continued unbroken to the time of its decline. The study of Syriac was introduced into Europe in the fifteenth century. Valuable collections of MSS., in this language, are to be found in the British Museum, and grammars and dictionaries have been published in Germany and in New York.

PERSIAN LITERATURE.

1. The Persian language and its Divisions.—2. Zendic Literature; The
Zendavesta.—3. Pehlvi and Parsee Literatures.—4. The Ancient Religion of
Persia; Zoroaster.—5. Modern Literature.—6. The Sufis.—7. Persian
Poetry.—8. Persian Poets; Ferdasi; Essedi of Tus; Togray, etc.—9.
History and Philosophy.—10. Education in Persia.

1. THE PERSIAN LANGUAGE AND ITS DIVISIONS.—The Persian language and its varieties, as far as they are known, belong to the great Indo-European family, and this common origin explains the affinities that exist between them and those of the ancient and modern languages of Europe. During successive ages, four idioms have prevailed in Persia, and Persian literature may be divided into four corresponding periods.

First. The period of the Zend (living), the most ancient of the Persian languages; it was from a remote, unknown age spoken in Media, Bactria, and in the northern part of Persia. This language partakes of the character both of the Sanskrit and of the Chaldaic. It is written from right to left, and it possesses, in its grammatical construction and its radical words, many elements in common with the Sanskrit and the German languages.

Second. The period of the Pehlvi, or language of heroes, anciently spoken in the western part of the country. Its alphabet is closely allied with the Zendic, to which it bears a great resemblance. It attained a high degree of perfection under the Parthian kings, 246 B.C. to 229 A.D.

Third. The period of the Parsee or the dialect of the southwestern part of
the country. It reached its perfection under the dynasty of the
Sassanides, 229-636 A.D. It has great analogy with the Zend, Pehlvi, and
Sanskrit, and is endowed with peculiar grace and sweetness.

Fourth. The period of the modern Persian. After the conquest of Persia, and the introduction of the Mohammedan faith in the seventh century A.D., the ancient Parsee language became greatly modified by the Arabic. It adopted its alphabet, adding to it, however, four letters and three points, and borrowed from it not only words but whole phrases, and thus from the union of the Parsee and the Arabic was formed the modern Persian. Of its various dialects, the Deri is the language of the court and of literature.

2. ZENDIC LITERATURE.—To the first period belong the ancient sacred books of Persia, collected under the name of Zendavesta (living word), which contain the doctrines of Zoroaster, the prophet and lawgiver of ancient Persia. The Zendavesta is divided into two parts, one written in Zend, the other in Pehlvi; it contains traditions relating to the primitive condition and colonization of Persia, moral precepts, theological dogmas, prayers, and astronomical observations. The collection originally consisted of twenty-one chapters or treatises, of which only three have been preserved. Besides the Zendavesta there are two other sacred books, one containing prayers and hymns, and the other prayers to the Genii who preside over the days of the month. To this first period some writers refer the fables of Lokman, who is supposed to have lived in the tenth century B.C., and to have been a slave of Ethiopic origin; his apologues have been considered the model on which Greek fable was constructed. The work of Lokman, however, existing now only in the Arabic language, is believed by other writers to be of Arabic origin. It has been translated into the European languages, and is still read in the Persian schools. Among the Zendic books preserved in Arabic translations may also be mentioned the "Giavidan Kird," or the Eternal Reason, the work of Hushang, an ancient priest of Persia, a book full of beautiful and sublime maxims.

3. PEHLVI AHD PARSEE LITERATURES.—The second period of Persian literature includes all the books written in Pehlvic, and especially all the translations and paraphrases of the works of the first period. There are also in this language a manual of the religion of Zoroaster, dictionaries of Pehlvi explained by the Parsee, inscriptions, and legends.

When the seat of the Persian empire was transferred to the southern states under the Sassanides, the Pehlvi gave way to the Parsee, which became the prevailing language of Persia in the third period of its literature. The sacred books were translated into this tongue, in which many records, annals, and treatises on astronomy and medicine were also written. But all these monuments of Persian literature were destroyed by the conquest of Alexander the Great, and by the fury of the Mongols and Arabs. This language, however, has been immortalized by Ferdusi, whose poems contain little of that admixture of Arabic which characterizes the writings of the modern poets of Persia.

4. THE ANCIENT RELIGION OF PERSIA.—The ancient literature of Persia is mainly the exposition of its religion. Persia, Media, and Bactria acknowledged as their first religious prophet Honover, or Hom, symbolized in the star Sirius, and himself the symbol of the first eternal word, and of the tree of knowledge. In the numberless astronomical and mystic personifications under which Hom was represented, his individuality was lost, and little is known of his history or of his doctrines. It appears, however, that he was the founder of the magi (priests), the conservators and teachers of his doctrine, who formed a particular order, like that of the Levites of Israel and of the Chaldeans of Assyria. They did not constitute a hereditary caste like the Brahmins of India, but they were chosen from among the people. They claimed to foretell future events. They worshiped fire and the stars, and believed in two principles of good and evil, of which light and darkness were the symbols.

Zoroaster, one of these magi, who probably lived in the eighth century B.C., undertook to elevate and reform this religion, which had then fallen from its primitive purity. Availing himself of the doctrines of the Chaldeans and of the Hebrews, Zoroaster, endowed by nature with extraordinary powers, sustained by popular enthusiasm, and aided by the favor of powerful princes, extended his reform throughout the country, and founded a new religion on the ancient worship. According to this religion the two great principles of the world were represented by Ormuzd and Ahriman, both born from eternity, and both contending for the dominion of the world. Ormuzd, the principle of good, is represented by light, and Ahriman, the principle of evil, by darkness. Light, then, being the body or symbol of Ormuzd, is worshiped in the sun and stars, in fire, and wherever it is found. Men are either the servants of Ormuzd, through virtue and wisdom, or the slaves of Ahriman, through folly and vice. Zoroaster explained the history of the world as the long contest of these two principles, which was to close with the conquest of Ormuzd over Ahriman.

The moral code of Zoroaster is pure and elevated. It aims to assimilate the character of man to light, to dissipate the darkness of ignorance; it acknowledges Ormuzd as the ruler of the universe; it seeks to extend the triumph of virtue over the material and spiritual world.

The religion of Zoroaster prevailed for many centuries in Persia. The Greeks adopted some of its ideas into their philosophy, and through the schools of the Gnostics and Neo-Platonists, its influence extended over Europe. After the conquest of Persia by the Mohammedans, the Fire- worshipers were driven to the deserts of Kerman, or took refuge in India, where, under the name of Parsees or Guebers, they still keep alive the sacred fire, and preserve the code of Zoroaster.

5. MODERN LITERATURE.—Some traces of the modern literature of Persia appeared shortly after the conquest of the country by the Arabians in the seventh century A.D.; but the true era dates from the ninth or tenth century. It may be divided into the departments of Poetry, History, and Philosophy.

6. THE SUFIS.—After the introduction of Mohammedanism into Persia, there arose a sect of pantheistic mystics called Sufis, to which most of the Persian poets belong. They teach their doctrine under the images of love, wine, intoxication, etc., by which, with them, a divine sentiment is always understood. The doctrines of the Sufis are undoubtedly of Hindu origin. Their fundamental tenets are, that nothing exists absolutely but God; that the human soul is an emanation from his essence and will finally be restored to him; that the great object of life should be a constant approach to the eternal spirit, to form as perfect a union with the divine nature as possible. Hence all worldly attachments should be avoided, and in all that we do a spiritual object should be kept in view. The great end with these philosophers is to attain to a state of perfection in spirituality and to be absorbed in holy contemplation, to the exclusion of all worldly recollections or interests.

7. PERSIAN POETRY.—The Persian tongue is peculiarly adapted to the purposes of poetry, which in that language is rich in forcible expressions, in bold metaphors, in ardent sentiments, and in descriptions animated with the most lively coloring. In poetical composition there is much art exercised by the Persian poets, and the arrangement of their language is a work of great care. One favorite measure which frequently ends a poem is called the Suja, literally the cooing of doves.

The poetical compositions of the Persians are of several kinds; the gazel or ode usually treats of love, beauty, or friendship. The poet generally introduces his name in the last couplet. The idyl resembles the gazel, except that it is longer. Poetry enters as a universal element into all compositions; physics, mathematics, medicine, ethics, natural history, astronomy, grammar—all lend themselves to verse in Persia.

The works of favorite poets are generally written on fine, silky paper, the ground of which is often powdered with gold or silver dust, the margins illuminated, and the whole perfumed with some costly essence. The magnificent volume containing the poem of Tussuf and Zuleika in the public library at Oxford affords a proof of the honors accorded to poetical composition. One of the finest specimens of caligraphy and illumination is the exordium to the life of Shah Jehan, for which the writer, besides the stipulated remuneration, had his mouth stuffed with pearls.

There are three principal love stories in Persia which, from the earliest times, have been the themes of every poet. Scarcely one of the great masters of Persian literature but has adopted and added celebrity to these beautiful and interesting legends, which can never be too often repeated to an Oriental ear. They are, the "History of Khosru and Shireen," the "Loves of Yussuf and Zuleika," and the "Misfortunes of Mejnoun and Leila." So powerful is the charm attached to these stories, that it appears to have been considered almost the imperative duty of all the poets to compose a new version of the old, familiar, and beloved traditions. Even down to a modern date, the Persians have not deserted their favorites, and these celebrated themes of verse reappear, from time to time, under new auspices. Each of these poems is expressive of a peculiar character. That of Khosru and Shireen may be considered exclusively the Persian romance; that of Mejnoun the Arabian; and that of Yussuf and Zuleika the sacred. The first presents a picture of happy love and female excellence in Shireen; Mejnoun is a representation of unfortunate love carried to madness; the third romance contains the ideal of perfection in Yussuf (Joseph) and the most passionate and imprudent love in Zuleika (the wife of Potiphar), and exhibits in strong relief the power of love and beauty, the mastery of mind, the weakness of overwhelming passion, and the victorious spirit of holiness.

8. PERSIAN POETS.—The first of Persian poets, the Homer of his country, is Abul Kasim Mansur, called Ferdusi or "Paradise," from the exquisite beauty of his compositions. He flourished in the reign of the Shah Mahmud (940-1020 A.D.). Mahmud commissioned him to write in his faultless verse a history of the monarchs of Persia, promising that for every thousand couplets he should receive a thousand pieces of gold. For thirty years he studied and labored on his epic poem, "the Shah Namah," or Book of Kings, and when it was completed he sent a copy of it, exquisitely written, to the sultan, who received it coldly, and treated the work of the aged poet with contempt. Disappointed at the ingratitude of the Shah, Ferdusi wrote some satirical lines, which soon reached the ear of Mahmud, who, piqued and offended at the freedom of the poet, ordered sixty thousand small pieces of money to be sent to him, instead of the gold which he had promised. Ferdusi was in the public bath when the money was given to him, and his rage and amazement exceeded all bounds when he found himself thus insulted. He distributed the paltry sum among the attendants of the bath and the slaves who brought it.

He soon after avenged himself by writing a satire full of stinging invective, which he caused to be transmitted to the favorite vizier who had instigated the sultan against him. It was carefully sealed up, with directions that it should be read to Mahmud on some occasion when his mind was perturbed with affairs of state, and his temper ruffled, as it was a poem likely to afford him entertainment. Ferdusi having thus prepared his vengeance, quitted the ungrateful court without leave-taking, and was at a safe distance when news reached him that his lines had fully answered their intended purpose. Mahmud had heard and trembled, and too late discovered that he had ruined his own reputation forever. After the satire had been read by Shah Mahmud, the poet sought shelter in the court of the caliph of Bagdad, in whose honor he added a thousand couplets to the poem of the Shah Namah, and who rewarded him with the sixty thousand gold pieces, which had been withheld by Mahmud. Meantime, Ferdusi's poem of Yussuf, and his magnificent verses on several subjects, had received the fame they deserved. Shah Mahmud's late remorse awoke. Thinking by a tardy act of liberality to repair his former meanness, he dispatched to the author of the Shah Namah the sixty thousand pieces he had promised, a robe of state, and many apologies and expressions of friendship and admiration, requesting his return, and professing great sorrow for the past. But when the message arrived, Ferdusi was dead, and his family devoted the whole sum to the benevolent purpose he had intended,—the erection of public buildings, and the general improvement of his native village, Tus. He died at the age of eighty. The Shah Namah contains the history of the kings of Persia down to the death of the last of the Sassanide race, who was deprived of his kingdom by the invasion of the Arabs during the caliphat of Omar, 636 A.D. The language of Ferdusi may be considered as the purest specimen of the ancient Parsee: Arabic words are seldom introduced. There are many episodes in the Shah Namah of great beauty, and the power and elegance of its verse are unrivaled.

Essedi of Tus is distinguished as having been the master of Ferdusi, and as having aided his illustrious pupil in the completion of his great work. Among many poems which he wrote, the "Dispute between Day and Night" is the most celebrated.

Togray was a native of Ispahan and contemporary with Ferdusi. He became so celebrated as a writer, that the title of Honor of Writers was given him. He was an alchemist, and wrote a treatise on the philosopher's stone.

Moasi, called King of Poets, lived about the middle of the eleventh century. He obtained his title at the court of Ispahan, and rose to high dignity and honor. So renowned were his odes, that more than a hundred poets endeavored to imitate his style.

Omar Kheyam, who was one of the most distinguished of the poets of Persia, lived toward the close of the eleventh century. He was remarkable for the freedom of his religious opinions and the boldness with which he denounced hypocrisy and intolerance. He particularly directed his satire against the mystic poets.

Nizami, the first of the romantic poets, flourished in the latter part of the twelfth century A.D. His principal works are called the "Five Treasures," of which the "Loves of Khosru and Shireen" is the most celebrated, and in the treatment of which he has succeeded beyond all other poets.

Sadi (1194-1282) is esteemed among the Persians as a master in poetry and in morality. He is better known in Europe than any other Eastern author, except Hafiz, and has been more frequently translated. Jami calls him the nightingale of the groves of Shiraz, of which city he was a native. He spent a part of his long life in travel and in the acquisition of knowledge, and the remainder in retirement and devotion. His works are termed the salt-mine of poets, being revered as unrivaled models of the first genius in the world. His philosophy enabled him to support all the ills of life with patience and fortitude, and one of his remarks, arising from the destitute condition in which he once found himself, deserves preservation: "I never complained of my condition but once, when my feet were bare, and I had not money to buy shoes; but I met a man without feet, and I became contented with my lot." The works of Sadi are very numerous, and are popular and familiar everywhere in the East. His two greatest works are the "Bostan" and "Gulistan" (Bostan, the rose garden, and Gulistan, the fruit garden). They abound in striking beauties, and show great knowledge of human nature.

Attar (1119-1233) was one of the great Sufi masters, and spent his life in devotion and contemplation. He died at the advanced age of 114. It would seem that poetry in the East was favorable to human life, so many of its professors attained to a great age, particularly those who professed the Sufi doctrine. The great work of Attar is a poem containing useful moral maxims.

Roumi (1203-1272), usually called the Mulah, was an enthusiastic follower of the doctrine of the Sufis. His son succeeded him at the head of the sect, and surpassed his father not only in the virtues and attainments of the Sufis, but by his splendid poetical genius. His poems are regarded as the most perfect models of the mystic style. Sir William Jones says, "There is a depth and solemnity in his works unequaled by any poet of this class; even Hafiz must be considered inferior to him."

Among the poets of Persia the name of Hafiz (d. 1389), the prince of Persian lyric poets, is most familiar to the English reader. He was born at Shiraz. Leading a life of poverty, of which he was proud, for he considered poverty the companion of genius, he constantly refused the invitation, of monarchs to visit their courts. There is endless variety in the poems of Hafiz, and they are replete with surpassing beauty of thought, feeling, and expression. The grace, ease, and fancy of his numbers are inimitable, and there is a magic in his lays which few even of his professed enemies have been able to resist. To the young, the gay, and the enthusiastic his verses are ever welcome, and the sage discovers in them a hidden mystery which reconciles him to their subjects. His tomb, near Shiraz, is visited as a sacred spot by pilgrims of all ages. The place of his birth is held in veneration, and there is not a Persian whose heart does not echo his strains.

Jami (d. 1492) was born in Khorassan, in the village of Jam, from whence he is named,—his proper appellation being Abd Arahman. He was a Sufi, and preferred, like many of his fellow-poets, the meditations and ecstasies of mysticism to the pleasures of a court. His writings are very voluminous; he composed nearly forty volumes, all of great length, of which twenty-two are preserved at Oxford. The greater part of them treat of Mohammedan theology, and are written in the mystic style. He collected the most interesting under the name of the "Seven Stars of the Bear," or the "Seven Brothers," and among these is the famous poem of Yussuf and Zuleika. This favorite subject, which every Persian poet has touched with more or less success, has never been so beautifully rendered as by Jami. Nothing can exceed the admiration which this poem inspires in the East.

Hatifi (d. 1520) was the nephew of the great poet Jami. It was his ambition to enter the lists with his uncle, by composing poems on similar subjects. Opinions are divided as to whether he succeeded as well as his master, but none can exceed him in sweetness and pathos. His version of the sad tale of Mejnoun and Leila, the Romeo and Juliet of the East, is confessedly superior to that of Nizami.

The lyrical compositions of Sheik Feizi (d. 1575) are highly valued. In his mystic poems he approaches to the sublimity of Attar. His ideas are tinged with the belief of the Hindus, in which he was educated. When a boy he was introduced to the Brahmins by the Sultan Mohammed Akbar, as an orphan of their tribe, in order that he might learn their language and obtain possession of their religions secrets. He became attached to the daughter of the Brahmin who protected him, and she was offered to him—in marriage by the unsuspecting parent. After a struggle between inclination and honor, the latter prevailed, and he confessed the fraud. The Brahmin, struck with horror, attempted to put an end to his own existence, fearing that he had betrayed his oath and brought danger and disgrace on his sect. Feizi, with tears—and protestations, besought him to forbear, promising to submit to any command he might impose on him. The Brahmin consented to live, on condition that Feizi should take an oath never to translate the Vedas nor to repeat to any one the creed of the Hindus. Feizi entered into the desired obligations, parted with his adopted father, bade adieu to his love, and with a sinking heart returned home. Among his works the most important is the "Mahabarit," which contains the chronicles of the Hindu princes, and abounds in romantic episodes.

The most celebrated recent Persian poet is Blab Phelair (1729-1825). He left many astronomical, moral, political, and literary works. He is called the Persian Voltaire.

Among the collections of novels and fables, the "Lights of Canope" may be mentioned, imitated from the Hitopadesa. Persian literature is also enriched by translations of the standard works in Sanskrit, among which are the epic poems of Valmiki and Vyasa.

9. HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY.—Among the most celebrated of the Persian historians is Mirkhond, who lived in the middle of the fifteenth century. His great work on universal history contains an account of the origin of the world, the life of the patriarchs, prophets, and philosophers of Persia, and affords valuable materials, especially for the history of the Middle Ages. His son, Khondemir, distinguished himself in the same branch of literature, and wrote two works which, for their historical correctness and elegance of style, are in great favor among the Persians. Ferischta, who flourished in the beginning of the seventeenth century, is the author of a valuable history of India. Mirgholah, a historian of the eighteenth century, gives a contemporary history of Hindustan and of his own country, under the title of "A Glance at Recent Affairs," and in another work he treats of the causes which, at some future time, will probably lead to the fall of the British power in India. The "History of the Reigning Dynasty" is among the principal modern historical works of Persia.

The Persians possess numerous works on rhetoric, geography, medicine, mathematics, and astronomy, few of which are entitled to much consideration. In philosophy may be mentioned the "Essence of Logic," an exposition in the Arabic language of the doctrines of Aristotle on logic; and the "Moral System of Nasir," published in the thirteenth century A.D., a valuable treatise on morals, economy, and politics.

10. EDUCATION IN PERSIA.—There are established, in every town and city, schools in which the poorer children can be instructed in the rudiments of the Persian and Arabic languages. The pupil, after he has learned the alphabet, reads the Koran in Arabic; next, fables in Persian; and lastly is taught to write a beautiful hand, which is considered a great accomplishment. The Persians are fond of poetry, and the lowest artisans can read or repeat the finest passages of their most admired poets. For the education of the higher classes there are in Persia many colleges and universities where the pupils are taught grammar, the Turkish and Arabic languages, rhetoric, philosophy, and poetry. The literary men are numerous; they pursue their studies till they are entitled to the honors of the colleges; afterwards they devote themselves to copying and illuminating manuscripts.

Of late many celebrated European works have been translated and published in Persia.

HEBREW LITERATURE.

1. Hebrew Literature; its Divisions.—2. The Language; its Alphabet; its Structure; Peculiarities, Formation, and Phases.—3. The Old Testament.— 4. Hebrew Education.—5. Fundamental Idea of Hebrew Literature.—6. Hebrew Poetry.—7. Lyric Poetry; Songs; the Psalms; the Prophets.—8. Pastoral Poetry and Didactic Poetry; the Proverbs and Ecclesiastes.—9. Epic and Dramatic Poetry; the Book of Job.—10. Hebrew History; the Pentateuch and other Historical Books.—11. Hebrew Philosophy.—12. Restoration of the Sacred Books.—13. Manuscripts and Translations.—14. Rabbinical Literature.—15. The New Revision of the Bible, and the New Biblical Manuscript.

1. HEBREW LITERATURE.—In the Hebrew literature we find expressed the national character of that ancient people who, for a period of four thousand years, through captivity, dispersion, and persecution of every kind, present the wonderful spectacle of a race preserving its nationality, its peculiarities of worship, of doctrine, and of literature. Its history reaches back to an early period of the world, its code of laws has been studied and imitated by the legislators of all ages and countries, and its literary monuments surpass in originality, poetic strength, and religious importance those of any other nation before the Christian era.

The literature of the Hebrews may be divided into the four following periods:—

The first, extending from remote antiquity to the time of David, 1010 B.C., includes all the records of patriarchal civilization transmitted by tradition previous to the age of Moses, and contained in the Pentateuch or five books attributed to him after he had delivered the people from the bondage of Egypt.

The second period extends from the time of David to the death of Solomon, 1010-940 B.C., and to this are referred some of the Psalms, Joshua, the Judges, and the Chronicles.

The third period extends from the death of Solomon to the return from the Babylonian captivity, 940-532 B.C., and to this age belong the writings of most of the Prophets, The Song of Solomon, Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, the books of Samuel, of Kings, and of Ruth.

The fourth period extends from their return from the Babylonian Captivity to the present time, and to this belong some of the Prophets, the Chronicles, Ezra, Nehemiah, Esther, the final completion of the Psalms, the Septuagint translation of the Bible, the writings of Josephus, of Philo of Alexandria, and the rabbinical literature.

2. THE LANGUAGE.—The Hebrew language is of Semitic origin; its alphabet consists of twenty-two letters. The number of accents is nearly forty, some of which distinguish the sentences like the punctuation of our language, and others serve to determine the number of syllables, or to mark the tone with which they are to be sung or spoken.

The Hebrew character is of two kinds, the ancient or square, and the modern or rabbinical. In the first of these the Scriptures were originally written. The last is deprived of most of its angles, and is more easy and flowing. The Hebrew words as well as letters are written from right to left in common with, the Semitic tongues generally, and the language is regular, particularly in its conjugations. Indeed, it has but one conjugation, but with seven or eight variations, having the effect of as many different conjugations, and giving great variety of expression. The predominance of these modifications over the noun, the idea of time contained in the roots of almost all its verbs, so expressive and so picturesque, and even the scarcity of its prepositions, adjectives, and adverbs, make this language in its organic structure breathe life, vigor, and emotion. If it lacks the flowery and luxuriant elements of the other oriental idioms, no one of these can be compared with the Hebrew tongue for the richness of its figures and imagery, for its depth, and for its majestic and imposing features.

In the formation, development, and decay of this language, the following periods may be distinguished:—

First. From Abraham to Moses, when the old stock was changed by the infusion of the Egyptian and Arabic. Abraham, residing in Chaldea, spoke the Chaldaic language, then traveling through Egypt, and establishing himself in Canaan or Palestine, his language mingled its elements with the tongues spoken by those nations, and perhaps also with that of the Phoenicians, who early established commercial intercourse with him and his descendants. It is probable that the Hebrew language sprung from the mixture of these elements.

Second. From Moses and the composition of the Pentateuch to Solomon, when it attained its perfection, not without being influenced by the Phoenician. This is the Golden Age of the Hebrew language.

Third. From Solomon to Ezra, when, although increasing in beauty and sweetness, it became less pure by the adoption of foreign ideas and idioms.

Fourth. From Ezra to the end of the reign of the Maccabees, when it was gradually lost in the Aramaean or Chaldaic tongue, and became a dead language.

The Jews of the Middle Ages, incited by the learning of the Arabs in Spain, among whom they received the protection denied them by Christian nations, endeavored to restore their language to something of its original purity, and to render the Biblical Hebrew again a written language; but the Chaldaic idioms had taken too deep root to be eradicated, and besides, the ancient language was found insufficient for the necessities of an advancing civilization. Hence arose a new form of written Hebrew, called rabbinical from its origin and use among the rabbins. It borrowed largely from many contemporary languages, and though it became richer and more regular in its structure, it retained little of the strength and purity of the ancient Hebrew.

3. THE OLD TESTAMENT.—The literary productions of the Hebrews are collected in the sacred books of the Old Testament, in which, according to the celebrated orientalist, Sir William Jones, we can find more eloquence, more historical and moral truth, more poetry,—in a word, more beauties than we could gather from all other books together, of whatever country or language. Aside from its supernatural claims, this book stands alone among the literary monuments of other nations, for the sublimity of its doctrine, as well as for the simplicity of its style.

It is the book of all centuries, countries, and conditions, and affords the best solution of the most mysterious problems concerning God and the world. It cultivates the taste, it elevates the mind, it nurses the soul with the word of life, and it has inspired the best productions of human genius.

4. HEBREW EDUCATION.—Religion, morals, legislation, history, poetry, and music were the special objects to which the attention of the Levites and Prophets was particularly directed. The general education of the people, however, was rather simple and domestic. They were trained in husbandry, and in military and gymnastic exercises, and they applied their minds almost exclusively to religious and moral doctrines and to divine worship; they learned to read and write their own language correctly, but they seldom learned foreign languages or read foreign books, and they carefully prevented strangers from obtaining a knowledge of their own.

5. FUNDAMENTAL IDEA OF HEBREW LITERATURE.—Monotheism was the fundamental idea of the Hebrew literature, as well as of the Hebrew religion, legislation, morals, politics, and philosophy. The idea of the unity of God constitutes the most striking characteristic of Hebrew poetry, and chiefly distinguishes it from that of all mythological nations. Other ancient literatures have created their divinities, endowed them with human passions, and painted their achievements in the glowing colors of poetry. The Hebrew poetry, on the contrary, makes no attempt to portray the Deity by the instruments of sensuous representation, but simple, majestic, and severe, it pours forth a perpetual anthem of praise and thanksgiving. The attributes of God, his power, his paternal love and wisdom, are described in the most sublime language of any age or nation. His seat is the heavens, the earth is his footstool, the heavenly hosts his servants; the sea is his, and he made it, and his hands prepared the dry land.

Placed under the immediate government of Jehovah, having with Him common objects of aversion and love, the Hebrews reached the very source of enthusiasm, the fire of which burned in the hearts of the prophets so fervently as to cause them to utter the denunciations and the promises of the Eternal in a tone suited to the inspired of God, and to sing his attributes and glories with a dignity and authority becoming them, as the vicegerents of God upon earth.

6. HEBREW POETRY.—The character of the people and their language, its mission, the pastoral life of the patriarchs, the beautiful and grand scenery of the country, the wonderful history of the nation, the feeling of divine inspiration, the promise of a Messiah who should raise the nation to glory, the imposing solemnities of the divine worship, and finally, the special order of the prophets, gave a strong impulse to the poetical genius of the nation, and concurred in producing a form of poetry which cannot be compared with any other for its simplicity and clearness, for its depth and majesty.

These features of Hebrew poetry, however, spring from its internal force rather than from any external form. Indeed, the Hebrew poets soar far above all others in that energy of feeling, impetuous and irresistible, which penetrates, warms, and moves the very soul. They reveal their anxieties as well as their hopes; they paint with truth and love the actual condition of the human race, with its sorrows and consolations, its hopes and fears, its love and hate. They select their images from the habitual ideas of the people, and personify inanimate objects—the mountains tremble and exult, deep cries unto deep. Another characteristic of Hebrew poetry is the strong feeling of nationality it expresses. Of their two most sublime poets, one was their legislator, the other their greatest king.

7. LYRIC POETRY.—In their national festivals the Hebrews sang the hymns of their lyric poets, accompanied by musical instruments. The art of singing, as connected with poetry, flourished especially under David, who instituted twenty-four choruses, composed of four thousand Levites, whose duty it was to sing in the public solemnities. It is generally believed that the Hebrew lyric poetry was not ruled by any measure, either of syllables or of time. Its predominant form was a succession of thoughts and a rhythmic movement, less of syllables and words than of ideas and images systematically arranged. The Psalms, especially, are essentially symmetrical, according to the Hebrew ritual, their verses being sung alternately by Levites and people, both in the synagogues and more frequently in the open air. The song of Moses after the passage of the Bed Sea is the most sublime triumphal hymn in any language, and of equal merit is his song of thanksgiving in Deuteronomy. Beautiful examples of the same order of poetry may be found in the song of Judith (though not canonical), and the songs of Deborah and Balaam. But Hebrew poetry attained its meridian splendor in the Psalms of David. The works of God in the creation of the world, and in the government of men; the illustrious deeds of the House of Jacob; the wonders and mysteries of the new Covenant are sung by David in a fervent out-pouring of an impulsive, passionate spirit, that alternately laments and exults, bows in contrition, or soars to the sublimest heights of devotion. The Psalms, even now, reduced to prose, after three thousand years, present the best and most sublime collection of lyrical poems, unequaled for their aspiration, their living imagery, their grand ideas, and majesty of style.

When at length the Hebrews, forgetful of their high duties and calling, trampled on their institutions and laws, prophets were raised up to recall the wandering people to their allegiance. ISAIAH, whether he foretells the future destiny of the nation, or the coming of the Messiah, in his majestic eloquence, sweetness, and simplicity, gives us the most perfect model of lyric poetry. He prophesied during the reigns of Azariah and Hezekiah, and his writings bear the mark of true inspiration.

JEREMIAH flourished during the darkest period in the history of the kingdom of Judah, and under the last four kings, previous to the Captivity. The Lamentations, in which he pours forth his grief for the fate of his country, are full of touching melancholy and pious resignation, and, in their harmonious and beautiful tone, show his ardent patriotism and his unshaken trust in the God of his fathers. He does not equal Isaiah in the sublimity of his conceptions and the variety of his imagery, but whatever may be the imperfections of his style, they are lost in the passion and vehemence of his poems.

DANIEL, after having straggled against the corruptions of Babylon, boldly foretells the decay of that empire with terrible power. His conceptions and images are truly sublime; but his style is less correct and regular than that of his predecessors, his language being a mixture of Hebrew and Chaldaic.

Such is also the style of EZEKIEL, who sings the development of the obscure prophesies of his master. His writings abound in dreams and visions, and convey rather the idea of the terrible than of the sublime.

These four, from the length of their writings, are called the Greater Prophets, to distinguish them from the twelve Minor Prophets: HOSEA, JOEL, AMOS, OBADIAH, JONAH, MICAH, NAHUM, HABAKKUK, ZEPHANIAH, HAGGAI, ZECHARIAH, and MALACHI, all of whom, though endowed with different characteristics and genius, show in their writings more or less of that fire and vigor which can only be found in writers who were moved and warmed by the very spirit of God.

8. PASTORAL POETRY AND DIDACTIC POETRY.—The Song of Solomon and the history of Ruth are the best specimens of the Hebrew idyl, and breathe all the simplicity of pastoral life.

The books of Proverbs and Ecclesiastes contain treatises on moral philosophy, or rather, are didactic poems. The Proverb, which is a maxim of wisdom, greatly used by the ancients before the introduction of dissertation, is, as the name indicates, the prevalent form of the first of these books. In Ecclesiastes we have described the trials of a mind which has lost itself in undefined wishes and in despair, and the efficacious remedies for these mental diseases are shown in the pictures of the vanity of the world and in the final divine judgment, in which the problem of this life will have its complete solution. SOLOMON, the author of these works, adds splendor to the sublimity of his doctrines by the dignity of his style.

9. EPIC AND DRAMATIC POETRY.—The Book of Job may be considered as belonging either to epic or to dramatic poetry. Its exact date is uncertain; some writers refer it to the primitive period of Hebrew literature, and others to a later age; and, while some contend that Job was but an ideal, representing human suffering, whose story was sung by an anonymous poet, others, with more probability, regard him as an actual person, exposed to the trials and temptations described in this wonderful book. However this may be, it is certain that this monument of wisdom stands alone, and that it can be compared to no other production for the sublimity of its ideas, the vivacity and force of its expressions, the grandeur of its imagery, and the variety of its characters. No other work represents, in more true and vivid colors, the nobility and misery of humanity, the laws of necessity and Providence, and the trials to which the good are subjected for their moral improvement. Here the great straggle between evil and good appears in its true light, and human virtue heroically submits itself to the ordeal of misfortune. Here we learn that the evil and good of this life are by no means the measure of morality, and here we witness the final triumph of justice.

10. HEBREW HISTORY.—Moses, the most ancient of all historians, was also the first leader and legislator of the Hebrews. When at length the traditions of the patriarchs had become obscured and confused among the different nations of the earth, Moses was inspired to write the history of the human race, and especially of the chosen people, in order to bequeath to coming centuries a memorial of revealed truths and of the divine works of eternal Wisdom. Thus in the first chapters of Genesis, without aiming to write the complete annals of the first period of the world, he summed up the general history of man, and described, more especially, the genealogy of the patriarchs and of the generations previous to the time of the dispersion.

The subject of the book of Exodus is the delivery of the people from the Egyptian bondage, and it is not less admirable for the importance of the events which it describes, than for the manner in which they are related. In this, and in the following book of Numbers, the record of patriarchal life gives place to the teachings of Moses and to the history of the wanderings in the deserts of Arabia.

In Leviticus the constitution of the priesthood is described, as well as the peculiarities of a worship.

Deuteronomy records the laws of Moses, and concludes with his sublime hymn of thanksgiving.

The historical books of Joshua, Judges, Samuel, Kings, Chronicles, Ezra, etc., contain the history of the Hebrew nation for nearly a thousand years, and relate the prosperity and the disasters of the chosen people. Here are recorded the deeds of Joshua, of Samson, of Samuel, of David, and of Solomon, the building of the Temple, the division of the tribes into two kingdoms, the prodigies of Elijah and Elisha, the impieties of Ahab, the calamities of Jedekiah, the destruction of Jerusalem and of the first Temple, the dispersion and the Babylonish captivity, the deliverance under Cyrus, and the rebuilding of the city and Temple under Ezra, and other great events in Hebrew history.

The internal evidence derived from the peculiar character of each of the historical books is decisive of their genuineness, which is supported above all suspicion of alteration or addition by the scrupulous conscientiousness and veneration with which the Hebrews regarded their sacred writings. Their authenticity is also proved by the uniformity of doctrine which pervades them all, though written at different periods, by the simplicity and naturalness of the narrations, and by the sincerity of the writers.

These histories display neither vanity nor adulation, nor do they attempt to conceal from the reader whatever might be considered as faults in their authors or their heroes. While they select facts with a nice judgment, and present the most luminous picture of events and of their causes, they abstain from reasoning or speculation in regard to them.

11. HEBREW PHILOSOPHY.—Although the Hebrews, in their different sacred writings, have transmitted to us the best solution of the ancient philosophical questions on the creation of the world, on the Providence which rules it, on monotheism, and on the origin of sin, yet they have nowhere presented us with a complete system of philosophy.

During the Captivity, their doctrines were influenced by those of Zoroaster, and later, when many of the Jews established themselves in Egypt, they acquired some knowledge of the Greek philosophy, and the tenets of the sects of the Essenes bear a strong resemblance to the Pythagorean and Platonic schools. This resemblance appears most clearly in the writings of Philo of Alexandria, a Jew, born a few years before the birth of our Saviour. Though not belonging to the sect of the Essenes, he followed their example in adopting the doctrines of Plato and taking them as the criterion in the interpretation of the Scriptures. So, also, Flavius Josephus, born in Jerusalem, 37 A.D., and Numenius, born in Syria, in the second century A.D., adopted the Greek philosophy, and by its doctrines amplified and expanded the tenets of Judaism.

12. RESTORATION OF THE SACRED BOOKS.—One of the most important eras in Hebrew literature is the period of the restoration of the Mosaic institutions, after the return from the Captivity. According to tradition, at that time Ezra established the great Synagogue, a college of one hundred and twenty learned men, who were appointed to collect copies of the ancient sacred books, the originals of which had been lost in the capture of Jerusalem by Nebuchadnezzar, and Nehemiah soon after placed this, or a new collection, in the Temple. The design of these reformers to give the people a religious canon in their ancient tongue induces the belief that they engaged in the work with the strictest fidelity to the old Mosaic institutions, and it is certain that the canon of the Old Testament, in the time of the Maccabees, was the same as that which we have at present.

13. MANUSCRIPTS AND TRANSLATIONS.—Of the canonical books of the Old Testament we have Hebrew manuscripts, printed editions, and translations. The most esteemed manuscripts are those of the Spanish Jews, of which the most ancient belong to the eleventh and twelfth centuries. The printed editions of the Bible in Hebrew are numerous. The earliest are those of Italy. Luther made his German translation from the edition of Brescia, printed in 1494. The earliest and most famous translation of the Old Testament is the Septuagint, or Greek translation, which was made about 283 B.C. It may, probably, be attributed to the Alexandrian Jews, who, having lost the knowledge of the Hebrew, caused the translation to be made by some of their learned countrymen for the use of the Synagogues of Egypt. It was probably accomplished under the authority of the Sanhedrim, composed of seventy elders, and therefore called the Septuagint version, and from it the quotations in the New Testament are chiefly taken. It was regarded as canonical by the Jews to the exclusion of other books written in Greek, but not translated from the Hebrew, which we now call, by the Greek name, the Apocrypha.

The Vulgate or Latin translation, which has official authority in the Catholic Church, was made gradually from the eighth to the sixteenth century, partly from an old translation which was made from the Greek in the early history of the Church, and partly from translations from the Hebrew made by St. Jerome.

The English version of the Bible now in use in England and America was made by order of James I. It was accomplished by forty-seven distinguished scholars, divided into six classes, to each of which a part of the work was assigned. This translation occupied three years, and was printed in 1611.

14. RABBINICAL LITERATURE.—Rabbinical literature includes all the writings of the rabbins, or teachers of the Jews in the later period of Hebrew letters, who have interpreted and developed the literature of the earlier ages. The language made use of by them has its foundation in the Hebrew and Chaldaic, with various alterations and modifications in the use of words, the meaning of which they have considerably enlarged and extended. They have frequently borrowed from the Arabic, Greek, and Latin, and from those modern tongues spoken where they severally resided.

The Talmud, from the Hebrew word signifying he has learned, is a collection of traditions illustrative of the laws and usages of the Jews. The Talmud consists of two parts, the Mishna and the Gemara. The Mishna, or second law, is a collection of rabbinical rules and precepts made in the second century. The Gemara (completion or doctrine) was composed in the third century. It is a collection of commentaries and explanations of the Mishna, and both together formed the Jerusalem Talmud.

The Babylonian rabbins composed new commentaries on the Mishna, and this formed the Babylonian Talmud. Both Talmuds were first committed to writing about 500 A.D. At the period of the Christian Era, the civil constitution, language, and mode of thinking among the Jews had undergone a complete revolution, and were entirely different from what they had been in the early period of the commonwealth. The Mosaic books contained rules no longer adapted to the situation of the nation, and many difficult questions arose to which their law afforded no satisfactory solution. The rabbins undertook to supply this defect, partly by commentaries on the Mosaic precepts, and partly by the composition of new rules.

The Talmud requires that wherever twelve adults reside together in one place, they shall erect a synagogue and serve the God of their fathers by a multitude of prayers and formalities, amidst the daily occupations of life. It allows usury, treats agricultural pursuits with contempt, and requires strict separation from the other races, and commits the government to the rabbins. The Talmud is followed by the Rabbinites, to which sect nearly all the European and American Jews belong. The sect of the Caraites rejects the Talmud and holds to the law of Moses only. It is less numerous, and its members are found chiefly in the East, or in Turkey and Eastern Russia.

The Cabala, or oral tradition, is, according to the Jews, a perpetual divine revelation, preserved among the Jewish people by secret transmission. It sometimes denotes the doctrines of the prophets, but most commonly the mystical philosophy, which was probably introduced into Palestine from Egypt and Persia. It was first committed to writing in the second century A.D. The Cabala is divided into the symbolical and the real, of which the former gives a mystical signification to letters. The latter comprehends doctrines, and is divided into the theoretical and practical. The first aims to explain the Scriptures according to the secret traditions, while the last pretends to teach the art of performing miracles by an artificial use of the divine names and sentences of the sacred Scriptures.

The Jews of the Middle Ages acquired great reputation for learning, especially in Spain, where they were allowed to study astronomy, mathematics, and medicine in the schools of the Moors. Granada and Cordova became the centres of rabbinical literature, which was also cultivated in France, Italy, Portugal, and Germany. In the sixteenth century the study of Hebrew and rabbinical literature became common among Christian scholars, and in the following centuries it became more interesting and important from the introduction of comparative philology in the department of languages. Rabbinical literature still has its students and interpreters. In Padua, Berlin, and Metz there are seminaries for the education of rabbins, which supply with able doctors the synagogues of Italy, Germany, and France. There is also a rabbinical school in Cincinnati, Ohio. The Polish rabbins and Talmudists, however, are the most celebrated.

15. THE NEW REVISION OF THE BIBLE.—The convocation of the English House of Bishops, which met at Canterbury in 1870, recommended a revised version of the Scriptures, and appointed a committee for the work of sixty-seven members from various ecclesiastical bodies of England, to which an American committee of thirty-five was added, and by their joint labors the revised edition of the New Testament was issued in 1881. The revised Old Testament is expected to appear during 1884. The advantages claimed for these new versions are: a more accurate rendering of the text, a correction of the errors of former translations, the removal of misleading archaisms and obsolete terms, better punctuation, arrangement in sections as well as chapters and verses, the metrical arrangement of poetry, and an increased number of marginal readings.

In 1875, Bryennios, a metropolitan of the Greek Church, discovered in the library of the Most Holy Sepulchre at Constantinople a manuscript belonging to the second century A.D., which contains, among other valuable and interesting documents, one on the "Teaching of the Twelve Apostles," many points of which bear on the usages of the church, such as the mode of baptism, the celebration of the Eucharist, and the orders of the ministry. It was at first considered authentic and highly important, but more deliberate study tends to discredit its authority.

EGYPTIAN LITERATURE.

1. The Language.—2. The Writing.—3. The Literature.—4. The Monuments. —5. The Discovery of Champollion.—6. Literary Remains; Historical; Religious; Epistolary; Fictitious; Scientific; Epic; Satirical and Judicial.—7. The Alexandrian Period.—8. The Literary Condition of Modern Egypt.

1. THE LANGUAGE.—From the earliest times the language of Egypt was divided into three dialects: the Memphitic, spoken in Memphis and Lower Egypt; the Theban, or Sahidic, spoken in Upper Egypt; and the Bashmuric, a provincial variety belonging to the oases of the Lybian Desert.

The Coptic tongue, which arose from a union of ancient Egyptian with the vulgar vernacular, later became mingled with Greek and Arabic words, and was written in the Greek alphabet. It was used in Egypt until the tenth century A.D., when it gave way to the Arabic; but the Christians still preserve it in their worship and in their translation of the Bible. By rejecting its foreign elements Egyptologists have been enabled to study this language in its purity, and to establish its grammar and construction. It is the exclusive character of the Christian Egyptian literature, and marks the last development and final decay of the Egyptian language.

2. THE WRITING.—Four distinct graphic systems were in use in ancient Egypt: the hieroglyphic, the hieratic, the demotic, and Coptic. The first expresses words partly by representation of the object and partly by signs indicating sounds, and was used chiefly for inscriptions. The hieratic characters presented a flowing and abbreviated form of the hieroglyphic, and were used more particularly in the papyri. The great body of Egyptian literature has reached us through this character, the reading of which can only be determined by resolving it into its prototype, hieroglyphics.

The demotic writing indicates the rise of the vulgar tongue, which took place about the beginning of the seventh century B.C. It was used to transcribe hieroglyphic and hieratic inscriptions and papyri into the common idiom until the second century A.D., when the Coptic generally superseded it.

3. THE LITERATURE.—The literary history of ancient Egypt presents a remarkable exception to that of any other country. While the language underwent various modifications, and the written characters changed, the literature remained the same in all its principal features. This literature consists solely of inscriptions painted or engraved on monuments, or of written manuscripts on papyrus buried in the tombs or beneath the ruins of temples. It is so deficient in style, and so unsystematic in its construction, that it has taxed the labors of the ablest critics for the last fifty years to construct a whole from its disjointed materials, and these are so imperfect that many periods of Egyptian history are complete literary blanks. In the great period of the Rameses, novels or works of amusement predominated; under the Ptolemies, historical records, and in the Coptic or Christian stage, homolies and church rituals prevailed; but through every epoch the same general type appears. Notwithstanding these deficiencies, however, Egypt offers a most attractive field for the archaeologist, and new discoveries are constantly adding to our knowledge of this interesting country.

4. THE MONUMENTS.—The monuments of Egypt are religious, as the temples, sepulchral, as the necropoles, or triumphal, as the obelisks. The temples were the principal structures of the Egyptian cities, and their splendid ruins, covered with inscriptions, are among the most interesting remains of antiquity. Life after death, the leading idea of the religion of Egypt, was expressed in the construction of the tombs, so numerous in the vicinity of all the large cities. These necropoles, excavated in the rocks or hillsides, or built within the pyramids, consist of rows of chambers with halls supported by columns, which, with the walls, are often covered with paintings, historical or monumental, representing scenes from domestic or civil life. The great pyramids were probably built for the sepulchres of kings and their families, and the smaller ones for persons of inferior rank.

The most magnificent of the triumphal monuments are the obelisks, gigantic monoliths of red or white granite, some of which are more than two hundred feet high, covered with inscriptions, and bearing the image of the triumphant king, painted or engraved. The splendid obelisk in the Place de la Concorde, at Paris, celebrates the glories of Rameses II.

The obelisk now in New York is one of a pair erected at Heliopolis, before the Temple of the Sun, about 1600 B.C. In the reign of Augustus both were removed to Alexandria, and were known in modern times as Cleopatra's Needles. One was presented by the Khedive to the city of London in 1877, and the other to the city of New York the same year. The shaft on the latter bears two inscriptions, one celebrating Thothmes III., and the other Rameses II.

One of the most characteristic monuments of Egypt is the statue of the Sphinx, so often found in the temples and necropoles. It is a recumbent figure, having a human head and breast and the body of a lion. Whatever idea the Egyptians may have attached to this symbol, it represents most truly the character of that people and the struggle of mind to free itself from the instincts of brutal nature.

5. THE DISCOVERY OF CHAMPOLLION.—During the expedition into Egypt, in 1799, in throwing up some earthworks near Rosetta, a town on the western arm of the Nile, an officer of the French army discovered a block or tablet of black basalt, upon which were engraved inscriptions in Egyptian and Greek characters. This tablet, called the Rosetta Stone, was sent to France and submitted to the orientalists for interpretation. The inscription was found to be a decree of the Egyptian priests in honor of Ptolemy Epiphanes (196 B.C.), which was ordered to be engraved on stone in sacred (hieroglyphic), common (demotic), and in Greek characters. Through this interpretation, Champollion (1790-1832), after much study, discovered and established the alphabetic system of Egyptian writing, and applying his discovery more extensively, he was able to decipher the names of the kings of Egypt from the Roman emperors back, through the Ptolemies, to the Pharaohs of the elder dynasties. This discovery was the key to the interpretation of all the ancient monuments of Egypt; by it the history of the country was thrown open for a period of twenty-six centuries, the annals of the neighboring nations were rendered more intelligible, the religion, arts, sciences, life, and manners of the ancient Egyptians were revealed to the modern world, and the obelisks, the innumerable papyri, and the walls of the temples and tombs were transformed into inexhaustible mines of historical and scientific knowledge.

6. LITERARY REMAINS; HISTORICAL; RELIGIOUS; EPISTOLARY; FICTITIOUS; SCIENTIFIC; EPIC; SATIRICAL AND JUDICIAL.—The Egyptian priests from the earliest times must have preserved the annals of their country, though obscured by myths and symbols. These annals, however, were destroyed by Cambyses (500 B.C.), who, during his invasion of the country, burned the temples where they were preserved, although they were soon rewritten, according to the testimony of Herodotus, who visited Egypt 450 B.C. In the third century B.C., Manetho, a priest and librarian of Heliopolis, wrote the succession of kings, and though the original work was lost, important fragments of it have been preserved by other writers. There seem to have been four periods in this history of ancient Egypt, marked by great changes in the social and political constitution of the country. In the first epoch, under the rule of the gods, demigods, and heroes, according to Manetho, it was probably colonized and ruled by the priests, in the name of the gods. The second period extends from Menes, the supposed founder of the monarchy, to the invasion of the Shepherd Kings, about 2000 B.C. In the third period, under this title, the Phoenicians probably ruled Egypt for three centuries, and it was one of these kings or Pharaohs of whom Joseph was the prime minister. In the fourth period, from 1180 to 350 B.C., the invaders were expelled and native rule restored, until the country was again conquered, first by the Persians, about 500 B.C., and again by the Greeks under Alexander, 350 B.C. From that time to the present no native ruler has sat on the throne of that country. After the conquest by Alexander the Great, who left it to the sway of the Ptolemies, it was successively conquered by the Romans, the Saracens, the Mamelukes, and the Turks. Since 1841 it has been governed by a viceroy under nominal allegiance to the Sultan of Turkey. In 1865 the title of khedive was substituted for that of viceroy.

Early Egyptian chronology is in a great measure merely conjectural, and new information from the monuments only adds to the obscurity. The historical papyri are records of the kings or accounts of contemporary events. These, as well as the inscriptions on the monuments, generally in the form of panegyric, are inflated records of the successes of the heroes they celebrate, or explanations of the historical scenes painted or sculptured on the monuments.

The early religion of Egypt was founded on a personification of the laws of Nature, centred in a mysterious unity. Egyptian nature, however, supplied but few great objects of worship as symbols of divine power, the desert, a natural enemy, the fertilizing river, and the sun, the all-pervading presence, worshiped as the source of life, the lord of time, and author of eternity. Three great realms composed the Egyptian cosmos; the heavens, where the sun, moon, and stars paced their daily round, the abode of the invisible king, typified by the sun and worshiped as Ammon Ra, the earth and the under-world, the abode of the dead. Here, too, reigned the universal lord under the name of Osiris, whose material manifestation, the sun, as he passed beneath the earth, lightened up the under-world, where the dead were judged, the just recompensed, and the guilty punished.

Innumerable minor divinities, which originally personified attributes of the one Supreme Deity, were represented under the form of such animals as were endowed with like qualities. Every god was symbolized by some animal, which thus became an object of worship; but by confounding symbols with realities this worship soon degenerated into gross materialism and idolatry.

The most important religious work in this literature is the "Book of the Dead," a funeral ritual. The earliest known copy is in hieratic writing of the oldest type, and was found in the tomb of a queen, who lived probably about 3000 B.C. The latest copy is of the second century A.D., and is written in pure Coptic. This work, consisting of one hundred and sixty-six chapters, is a collection of prayers of a magical character, an account of the adventures of the soul after death, and directions for reaching the Hall of Osiris. It is a marvel of confusion and poverty of thought. A complete translation may be found in "Egypt's Place in Universal History," by Bunsen (second edition), and specimens in almost every museum of Europe. There are other theological remains, such as the Metamorphoses of the gods and the Lament of Isis, but their meaning is disguised in allegory. The hymns and addresses to the sun abound in pure and lofty sentiment.

The epistolary writings are the best known and understood branch of Egyptian literature. From the Ramesid era, the most literary of all, we have about eighty letters on various subjects, interesting as illustrations of manners and specimens of style. The most important of these is the "Anastasi Papyri" in the British Museum, written about the time of the Exodus.

Two valuable and tolerably complete relics represent the fictitious writing of Egyptian literature; they are "The Tale of Two Brothers," now in the British Museum, and "The Romance of Setna," recently discovered in the tomb of a Coptic monk. The former was evidently intended for the amusement of a royal prince. One of its most striking features is the low moral tone of the women introduced. "The Romance of Setna" turns upon the danger of acquiring possession of the sacred books. The opening and date of the story are missing.

Fresh information is being constantly acquired as to the knowledge of science possessed by the ancient Egyptians. Geometry originated with them, or from remote ages they were acquainted with the principles of this science, as well as with those of hydrostatics and mechanics, as is proved by the immense structures which remain the wonder of the modern world. They cultivated astronomy from the earliest times, and they have transmitted to us their observations on the movements of the sun, the stars, the earth, and other planets. The obelisks served them as sun dials, and the pyramids as astronomical observatories. They had great skill in medicine and much knowledge of anatomy. The most remarkable medical papyri are to be found in the Berlin Museum.

The epics and biographical sketches are narratives of personal adventure in war or travel, and are distinguished by some effort at grace of style. The epic of Pentaur, or the achievements of Rameses II., has been called the Egyptian Iliad. It is several centuries older than the Greek Iliad, and deserves admiration for its rapid narrative and epic unity.

The history of Mohan (by some thought to be Moses) has been called the Egyptian Odyssey, in contrast to the preceding. Mohan was a high official, and this narrative describes his travels in Syria and Palestine. This papyrus is in the British Museum, and both epics have been translated.

The satirical writings and beast fables of the Egyptians caricature the foibles of all classes, not sparing the sacred person of the king, and are often illustrated with satirical pictures. Besides these strictly literary remains, a large number of judicial documents, petitions, decrees, and treaties has been recovered.

7. THE ALEXANDRIAN PERIOD.—Egypt, in its flourishing period, having contributed to the civilization of Greece, became, in its turn, the pupil of that country. In the century following the age of Alexander the Great, under the rule of the Ptolemies, the philosophy and literature of Athens were transferred to Alexandria. Ptolemy Philadelphus, in the third century B.C., completed the celebrated Alexandrian Library, formed for the most part of Greek books, and presided over by Greek librarians. The school of Alexandria had its poets, its grammarians, and philosophers; but its poetry lacked the fire of genius, and its grammatical productions were more remarkable for sophistry and subtlety, than for soundness and depth of research. In the philosophy of Alexandria, the Eastern and Western systems combined, and this school had many distinguished disciples.

In the first century of the Christian era, Egypt passed from the Greek kings to the Roman emperors, and the Alexandrian school continued to be adorned by the first men of the age. This splendor, more Grecian than Egyptian, was extinguished in the seventh century by the Saracens, who conquered the country, and, it is believed, burned the great Alexandrian Library. After the wars of the immediate successors of Mohammed, the Arabian princes protected literature, Alexandria recovered its schools, and other institutions of learning were established; but in the conquest of the country by the Turks, in the thirteenth century, all literary light was extinguished.

8. LITERARY CONDITION OF MODERN EGYPT.—For more than nine hundred years Cairo has possessed a university of high rank, which greatly increased in importance on the accession of Mehemet Ali, in 1805, who established many other schools, primary, scientific, medical, and military, though they were suffered to languish under his two successors. In 1865, when Ismail- Pacha mounted the throne as Khedive (tributary king), he gave powerful aid to the university and to public instruction everywhere. The number of students at the University of Cairo advanced to eleven thousand. The wife of the Khedive, the Princess Cachma-Afet, founded in 1873, and maintained from her privy purse, a school for the thorough instruction of girls, which led to the establishment of a similar institution by the Ministry of Public Instruction. This princess is the first in the history of Islam who, from the interior of the harem, has exerted her influence to educate and enlighten her sex.

When the Khedive was driven into exile in 1879, the number of schools, nearly all the result of his energetic rule, was 4,817 and of pupils 170,000. Since the European intervention and domination the number of both has sensibly diminished, and a serious retrograde movement has taken place.

The higher literature of Egypt at the present time is written in pure Arabic. The popular writing in magazines, periodicals, etc., is in Arabic mixed with Syriac and Egyptian dialects. Newspaper literature has greatly increased during the past eight years.

GREEK LITERATURE.

INTRODUCTION.—1. Greek Literature and its Divisions.—2. The Language.— 3. The Religion.

PERIOD FIRST.—1. Ante-Homeric Songs and Bards.—2. Poems of Homer; the
Iliad; the Odyssey.—3. The Cyclic Poets and the Homeric Hymns.—4. Poems
of Hesiod; the Works and Days; the Theogony.—5. Elegy and Epigram;
Tyrtaeus; Archilochus; Simonides.—6. Iambic Poetry, the Fable, and
Parody; Aesop.—7. Greek Music and Lyric Poetry; Terpander.—8. Aeolic
Lyric Poets; Alcasus; Sappho; Anacreon.—9. Doric, or Choral Lyric Poets;
Alcman; Stesichorus; Pindar.—10. The Orphic Doctrines and Poems.—11.
Pre-Socratic Philosophy; Ionian, Eleatic, Pythagorean Schools.—12.
History; Herodotus.

PERIOD SECOND.—1. Literary Predominance of Athens.—2. Greek Drama.—3.
Tragedy.—4. The Tragic Poets; Aeschylus; Sophocles; Euripides.—5.
Comedy; Aristophanes; Menander.—6. Oratory, Rhetoric, and History;
Pericles; the Sophists; Lysias; Isocrates; Demosthenes; Thucydides;
Xenophon.—7. Socrates and the Socratic Schools; Plato; Aristotle.

PERIOD THIRD.—1. Origin of the Alexandrian Literature.—2. The
Alexandrian Poets; Philetas; Callimachus; Theocritus; Bion; Moschus.—3.
The Prose Writers of Alexandria; Zenodotus; Aristophanes; Aristarchus;
Eratosthenes; Euclid; Archimedes.—4. Philosophy of Alexandria; Neo-
Platonism.—5. Anti-Neo-Platonic Tendencies; Epictetus; Lucian; Longinus.
—6. Greek Literature in Rome; Dionysius of Halicarnassus; Flavius
Josephus; Polybius; Diodorus; Strabo; Plutarch.—7. Continued Decline of
Greek Literature.—8. Last Echoes of the Old Literature; Hypatia; Nonnus;
Musaeus; Byzantine Literature.—9. The New Testament and the Greek
Fathers. Modern Literature; the Brothers Santsos and Alexander Rangabé.

INTRODUCTION.

1. GREEK LITERATURE AND ITS DIVISIONS.—The literary histories thus far sketched, with the exception of the Hebrew, occupy a subordinate position, and constitute but a small part of the general and continuous history of literature. As there are states whose interests are so detached from foreign nations and so centred in themselves that their history seems to form no link in the great chain of political events, so there are bodies of literature cut off from all connection with the course of general refinement, and bearing no relation to the development of mental power in the most civilized portions of the globe. Thus, the literature of India, with its great antiquity, its language, which, in fullness of expression, sweetness of tone, and regularity of structure, rivals the most perfect of those Western tongues to which it bears such an affinity, with all its affluence of imagery and its treasures of thought, has hitherto been destitute of any direct influence on the progress of general literature, and China has contributed still less to its advancement. Other branches of Oriental literature, as the Persian and Arabian, were equally isolated, until they were brought into contact with the European mind through the medium of the Crusaders and of the Moorish empire in Spain.

We come now to speak of the literature of the Greeks; a literature whose continuous current has rolled down from remote ages to our own day, and whose influence has been more extensive and lasting than that of any other nation of the ancient or modern world. Endowed with profound sensibility and a lively imagination, surrounded by all the circumstances that could aid in perfecting the physical and intellectual powers, the Greeks early acquired that essentially literary and artistic character which became the source of the greatest productions of literature and art. This excellence was, also, in some measure due to their institutions; free from the system of castes which prevailed in India and Egypt, and which confined all learning by a sort of hereditary right to the priests, the tendency of the Greek mind was from the first liberal, diffusive, and aesthetic. The manifestation of their genius, from the first dawn of their intellectual culture, was of an original and peculiar character, and their plastic minds gave a new shape and value to whatever materials they drew from foreign sources. The ideas of the Egyptians and Orientals, which they adopted into their mythology, they cast in new moulds, and reproduced in more beautiful forms. The monstrous they subdued into the vast, the grotesque they softened into the graceful, and they diffused a fine spirit of humanity over the rude proportions of the primeval figures. So with the dogmas of their philosophy, borrowed from the same sources; all that could beautify the meagre, harmonize the incongruous, enliven the dull, or convert the crude materials of metaphysics into an elegant department of literature, belongs to the Greeks themselves. The Grecian mind became the foundation of the Roman and of all modern literatures, and its master- pieces afford the most splendid examples of artistic beauty and perfection that the world has ever seen.

The history of Greek literature may be divided into three periods. The first, extending from remote antiquity to the age of Herodotus (484 B.C.), includes the earliest poetry of Greece, the ante-Homeric and the Homeric eras, the origin of Greek elegy, epigram, iambic, and lyric poetry, and the first development of Greek philosophy.

The second, or Athenian period, the golden age of Greek literature, extends from the age of Herodotus (484 B.C.) to the death of Alexander the Great (323 B.C.), and comprehends the development of the Greek drama in the works of Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides, and of political oratory, history, and philosophy, in the works of Demosthenes, Thucydides, Xenophon, Plato, and Aristotle.

The third, or the period of the decline of Greek literature, extending from the death of Alexander the Great (323 B.C.) to the fall of the Byzantine empire (1453 A.D.), is characterized by the removal of Greek learning and literature from Athens to Alexandria, and by its gradual decline and extinction.

2. THE LANGUAGE.—Of all known languages none has attained so high a degree of perfection as that of the Greeks. Belonging to the great Indo- European family, it is rich in significant words, strong and elegant in its combinations and phrases, and extremely musical, not only in its poetry, but in its prose. The Greek language must have attained great excellence at a very early period, for it existed in its essential perfection in the time of Homer. It was, also, early divided into dialects, as spoken by the various Hellenic tribes that inhabited different parts of the country. The principal of these found in written composition are the Aeolic, Doric, Ionic, and Attic, of which the Aeolic, the most ancient, was spoken north of the Isthmus, in the Aeolic colonies of Asia Minor, and in the northern islands of the Aegean Sea. It was chiefly cultivated by the lyric poets. The Doric, a variety of the Aeolic, characterized by its strength, was spoken in Peloponnesus, and in the Doric colonies of Asia Minor, Lower Italy, and Sicily. The Ionic, the most soft and liquid of all the dialects, belonged to the Ionian colonies of Asia Minor and the islands of the Archipelago. It was the language of Homer, Hesiod, and Herodotus. The Attic, which was the Ionic developed, enriched, and refined, was spoken in Attica, and prevailed in the flourishing period of Greek literature.

After the fall of Constantinople, in 1453, the Greek language, which had been gradually declining, became entirely extinct, and a dialect, which had long before sprung up among the common people, took the place of the ancient, majestic, and refined tongue. This popular dialect in turn continued to degenerate until the middle of the last century. Recently institutions of learning have been established, and a new impulse given to improvement in Greece. Great progress has been made in the cultivation of the language, and great care is taken by modern Greek writers to avoid the use of foreign idioms and to preserve the ancient orthography. Many newspapers, periodicals, original works, and translations are published every year in Greece. The name Romaic, which has been applied to modern Greek, is now almost superseded by that of Neo-Hellenic.

3. THE RELIGION.—In the development of the Greek religion two periods may be distinguished, the ante-Homeric and the Homeric. As the heroic age of the Greek nation was preceded by one in which the cultivation of the land chiefly occupied the attention of the inhabitants, so there are traces and remnants of a state of the Greek religion, in which the gods were considered as exhibiting their power chiefly in the changes of the seasons, and in the operations and phenomena of outward nature. Imagination led these early inhabitants to discover, not only in the general phenomena of vegetation, the unfolding and death of the leaf and flower, and in the moist and dry seasons of the year, but also in the peculiar physical character of certain districts, a sign of the alternately hostile or peaceful, happy or ill-omened interference of certain deities. There are still preserved in the Greek mythology many legends of charming and touching simplicity, which had their origin at this period, when the Greek religion bore the character of a worship of the powers of nature.

Though founded on the same ideas as most of the religions of the East, and particularly of Asia Minor, the earliest religion of the Greeks was richer and more various in its forms, and took a loftier and a wider range. The Grecian worship of nature, in all the various forms which it assumed, recognized one deity, as the highest of all, the head of the entire system, Zeus, the god of heaven and light; with him, and dwelling in the pure expanse of ether, is associated the goddess of the earth, who, in different temples, was worshiped under different names, as Hera, Demeter, and Dione. Besides this goddess, other beings are united with the supreme god, who are personifications of certain of his energies powerful deities who carry the influence of light over the earth, and destroy the opposing powers of darkness and confusion as Athena, born from the head of her father, and Apollo, the pure and shining god of light. There are other deities allied with earth and dwelling in her dark recesses; and as life appears not only to spring from the earth, but to return whence it sprung, these deities are, for the most part, also connected with death; as Hermes, who brings up the treasures of fruitfulness from the depths of the earth, and Cora, the child, now lost and now recovered by her mother, Demeter, the goddess both of reviving and of decaying nature. The element of water, Poseidon, was also introduced into this assemblage of the personified powers of nature, and peculiarly connected with the goddess of the earth; fire, Hephaestus, was represented as a powerful principle derived from heaven, having dominion over the earth, and closely allied with the goddess who sprang from the head of the supreme god. Other deities form less important parts of this system, as Dionysus, whose alternate joys and sufferings show a strong resemblance to the form which religious notions assumed in Asia Minor. Though not, like the gods of Olympus, recognized by all the races of the Greeks, Dionysus exerted an important influence on the spirit of the Greek nation, and in sculpture and poetry gave rise to bold flights of imagination, and to powerful emotions, both of joy and sorrow.

These notions concerning the gods must have undergone many changes before they assumed the form under which they appear in the poems of Homer and Hesiod. The Greek religion, as manifested through them, reached the second period of its development, belonging to that time when the most distinguished and prominent part of the people devoted their lives to the affairs of the state and the occupation of arms, and in which the heroic spirit was manifested according to these ideas. On Olympus, lying near the northern boundary of Greece, the highest mountain of that country, whose summit seems to touch the heavens, there rules the assembly or family of the gods; the chief of which, Zeus, summons at his pleasure the other gods to council, as Agamemnon summons the other princes. He is acquainted with the decrees of fate, and able to control them, and being himself king among the gods, he gives the kings of the earth their powers and dignity. By his side his wife, Hera, whose station entitles her to a large share of his rank and dominion; and a daughter of masculine character, Athena, a leader of battles and a protectress of citadels, who, by her wise counsels, deserves the confidence which her father bestows on her; besides these, there are a number of gods with various degrees of kindred, who have each their proper place and allotted duty on Olympus. The attention of this divine council is chiefly turned to the fortunes of nations and cities, and especially to the adventures and enterprises of the heroes, who being themselves, for the most part, sprung from the blood of the gods, form the connecting link between them and the ordinary herd of mankind. At this stage the ancient religion of nature had disappeared, and the gods who dwelt on Olympus scarcely manifested any connection with natural phenomena. Zeus exercises his power as a ruler and a king; Hera, Athena, and Apollo no longer symbolize the fertility of the earth, the clearness of the atmosphere, and the arrival of the serene spring; Hephaestus has passed from the powerful god of fire in heaven and earth into a laborious smith and worker of metals; Hermes is transformed into the messenger of Zeus; and the other deities which stood at a greater distance from the affairs of men are entirely forgotten, or scarcely mentioned in the Homeric mythology.

These deities are known to us chiefly through the names given to them by the Romans, who adopted them at a later period, or identified them with deities of their own. Zeus was called by them Jupiter; Hera; Juno; Athena, Minerva; Ares, Mars; Artemis, Diana; Hermes, Mercury; Cora, Proserpine; Hephaestus, Vulcan; Poseidon, Neptune; Aphrodite, Venus; Dionysus, Bacchus.

PERIOD FIRST.

FROM REMOTE ANTIQUITY TO HERODOTUS (484 B.C.),

1. ANTE-HOMERIC SONGS AND BARDS.—Many centuries must have elapsed before the poetical language of the Greeks could have attained the splendor, copiousness, and fluency found in the poems of Homer. The first outpourings of poetical enthusiasm were, doubtless, songs describing, in few and simple verses, events which powerfully affected the feelings of the hearers. It is probable that the earliest were those that referred to the seasons and their phenomena, and that they were sung by the peasants at their corn and wine harvests, and had their origin in times of ancient rural simplicity. Songs of this kind had often a plaintive and melancholy character. Such was the song "Linus" mentioned by Homer, which was frequently sung at the grape-picking. This Linus evidently belongs to a class of heroes or demi-gods, of which many instances occur in the religions of Asia Minor. Boys of extraordinary beauty and in the flower of youth were supposed to have been drowned, or devoured by raging dogs, and their death was lamented at the harvests and other periods of the hot season. According to the tradition, Linus sprang from a divine origin, grew up with the shepherds among the lambs, and was torn in pieces by wild dogs, whence arose the festival of the lambs, at which many dogs were slain. The real object of lamentation was the tender beauty of spring, destroyed by the summer heat, and other phenomena of the same kind which the imagination of those times invested with a personal form, and represented as beings of a divine nature. Of similar meaning are many other songs, which were sung at the time of the summer heat or at the cutting of the corn. Such was the song called "Bormus" from its subject, a beautiful boy of that name, who, having gone to fetch water for the reapers, was, while drawing it, borne down by the nymphs of the stream. Such were the cries for the youth Hylas, swallowed up by the waters of a fountain, and the lament for Adonis, whose untimely death was celebrated by Sappho.

The Paeans were songs originally dedicated to Apollo, and afterwards to other gods; their tune and words expressed hope and confidence to overcome, by the help of the god, great and imminent danger, or gratitude and thanksgiving for victory and safety. To this class belonged the vernal Paeans, which were sung at the termination of winter, and those sung in war before the attack on the enemy. The Threnos, or lamentations for the dead, were songs containing vehement expressions of grief, sung by professional singers standing near the bed upon which the body was laid, and accompanied by the cries and groans of women. The Hymenaeos was the joyful bridal song of the wedding festivals, in which there were ordinarily two choruses, one of boys bearing burning torches and singing the hymenaeos to the clear sound of the pipe, and another of young girls dancing to the notes of the harp. The Chorus originally referred chiefly to dancing. The most ancient sense of the word is a place for dancing, and in these choruses young persons of both sexes danced together in rows, holding one another by the hand, while the citharist, or the player on the lyre, sitting in their midst, accompanied the sound of his instrument with songs, which took their name from the choruses in which they were sung.

Besides these popular songs, there were the religious and heroic poems of the bards, who were, for the most part, natives of that portion of the country which surrounds the mountains of Helicon and Parnassus, distinguished as the home of the Muses. Among the bards devoted to the worship of Apollo and other deities, were Marsyas, the inventor of the flute, Musaeus and Orpheus. Many names of these ancient poets are recorded, but of their poetry, previous to Homer, not even a fragment remains.

The bards or chanters of epic poetry were called Rhapsodists, from the manner in which they delivered their compositions; this name was applied equally to the minstrel who recited his own poems, and to him who declaimed anew songs that had been heard a thousand times before. The form of these heroic songs, probably settled and fixed by tradition, was the hexameter, as this metre gave to the epic poetry repose, majesty, a lofty and solemn tone, and rendered it equally adapted to the pythoness who announced the decrees of the deity, and to the rhapsodist who recited the battles of heroes. The bards held an important post in the festal banquets, where they flattered the pride of the princes by singing the exploits of their forefathers.

2. POEMS OF HOMER.—Although seven cities contended for the honor of giving birth to Homer, it was the prevalent belief, in the flourishing times of Greece, that he was a native of Smyrna. He was probably born in that city about 1000 B.C. Little is known of his life, but the power of his transcendent genius is deeply impressed upon his works. He was called by the Greeks themselves, the poet; and the Iliad and the Odyssey were with them the ultimate standard of appeal on all matters of religious doctrine and early history. They were learned by boys at school, and became the study of men in their riper years, and in the time of Socrates there were Athenians who could repeat both poems by heart. In whatever part of the world a Greek settled, he carried with him a love for the great poet, and long after the Greek people had lost their independence, the Iliad and the Odyssey continued to maintain an undiminished hold upon their affections. The peculiar excellence of these poems lies in their sublimity and pathos, in their tenderness and simplicity, and they show in their author an inexhaustible vigor, that seems to revel in an endless display of prodigious energies. The universality of the powers of Homer is their most astonishing attribute. He is not great in any one thing; he is greatest in all things. He imagines with equal ease the terrible, the beautiful, the mean, the loathsome, and he paints them all with equal force. In his descriptions of external nature, in his exhibitions of human character and passion, no matter what the subject, he exhausts its capabilities. His pictures are true to the minutest touch; his men and women are made of flesh and blood. They lose nothing of their humanity for being cast in a heroic mould. He transfers himself into the identity of those whom he brings into action; masters the interior springs of their spiritual mechanism; and makes them move, look, speak, and do exactly as they would in real life.

In the legends connected with the Trojan war, the anger of Achilles and the return of Ulysses, Homer found the subjects of the Iliad and Odyssey. The former relates that Agamemnon had stolen from Achilles, Briseis, his beloved slave, and describes the fatal consequences which the subsequent anger of Achilles brought upon the Greeks; and how the loss of his dearest friend, Patroclus, suddenly changed his hostile attitude, and brought about the destruction of Troy and of Hector, its magnanimous defender. The Odyssey is composed on a more artificial and complicated plan than the Iliad. The subject is the return of Ulysses from a land beyond the range of human knowledge to a home invaded by bands of insolent intruders, who seek to kill his son and rob him of his wife. The poem begins at that point where the hero is considered to be farthest from his home, in the central portion of the sea, where the nymph Calypso has kept him hidden from all mankind for seven years. Having by the help of the gods passed through innumerable dangers, after many adventures he reaches Ithaca, and is finally introduced into his own house as a beggar, where he is made to suffer the harshest treatment from the suitors of his wife, in order that he may afterwards appear with the stronger right as a terrible avenger. In this simple story a second was interwoven by the poet, which renders it richer and more complete, though more intricate and less natural. It is probable that Homer, after having sung the Iliad in the vigor of his youthful years, either composed the Odyssey in his old age, or communicated to some devoted disciple the plan of this poem.

In the age immediately succeeding Homer, his great poems were doubtless recited as complete wholes, at the festivals of the princes; but when the contests of the rhapsodists became more animated, and more weight was laid on the art of the reciter than on the beauty of the poem he recited, and when other musical and poetical performances claimed a place, then they were permitted to repeat separate parts of poems, and the Iliad and Odyssey, as they had not yet been reduced to writing, existed for a time only as scattered and unconnected fragments; and we are still indebted to the regulator of the poetical contests (either Solon or Pisistratus) for having compelled the rhapsodists to follow one another according to the order of 'the poem, and for having thus restored these great works to their pristine integrity. The poets, who either recited the poems of Homer or imitated him in their compositions, were called Homerides.

3. THE CYCLIC POETS AND THE HOMERIC HYMNS.—The poems of Homer, as they became the foundation of all Grecian literature, are likewise the central point of the epic poetry of Greece. All that is most excellent in this line originated from them, and was connected with them in the way of completion or continuation. After the time of Homer, a class of poets arose who, from their constant endeavor to connect their poems with those of this master, so that they might form a great cycle, were called the Cyclic Poets. They were probably Homeric rhapsodists by profession, to whom the constant recitation of the ancient Homeric poems would naturally suggest the idea of continuing them by essays of their own. The poems known as Homeric hymns formed an essential part of the epic style. They were hymns to the gods, bearing an epic character, and were called proemia, or preludes, and served the rhapsodists either as introductory strains for their recitation, or as a transition from the festivals of the gods to the competition of the singers of heroic poetry.

4. POEMS OF HESIOD.—Nothing certain can be affirmed respecting the date of Hesiod; a Boeotian by birth, he is considered by some ancient authorities as contemporary with Homer, while others suppose him to have flourished two or three generations later. The poetry of Hesiod is a faithful transcript of the whole condition of Boeotian life. It has nothing of that youthful and inexhaustible fancy of Homer which lights up the sublime images of a heroic age and moulds them into forms of surpassing beauty. The poetry of Hesiod appears struggling to emerge out of the narrow bounds of common life, which he strives to ennoble and to render more endurable. It is purely didactic, and its object is to disseminate knowledge, by which life may be improved, or to diffuse certain religious notions as to the influence of a superior destiny. His poem entitled "Works and Days" is so entirely occupied with the events of common life, that the author would not seem to have been a poet by profession, but some Boeotian husbandman whose mind had been moved by circumstances to give a poetical tone to the course of his thoughts and feelings. The unjust claim of Perses, the brother of Hesiod, to the small portion of their father's land which had been allotted to him, called forth this poem, in which he seeks to improve the character and habits of Perses, to deter him from acquiring riches by litigation, and to incite him to a life of labor, as the only source of permanent prosperity. He points out the succession in which his labors must follow if he determines to lead a life of industry, and gives wise rules of economy for the management of a family; and to illustrate and enforce the principal idea, he ingeniously combines with his precepts mythical narratives, fables, and descriptions. The "Theogony" of Hesiod is a production of the highest importance, as it contains the religious faith of Greece. It was through it that Greece first obtained a religious code, which, although without external sanction or priestly guardians and interpreters, must have produced the greatest influence on the religious condition of the Greeks.

5. ELEGY AND EPIGRAM.—Until the beginning of the seventh century B.C., the epic was the only kind of poetry cultivated in Greece, with the exception of the early songs and hymns, and the hexameter the only metre used by the poets. This exclusive prevalence of epic poetry was doubtless connected with the political state of the country. The ordinary subjects of these poems must have been highly acceptable to the princes who derived their race from the heroes, as was the case with all the royal families of early times. The republican movements, which deprived these families of their privileges, were favorable to the stronger development of each man's individuality, and the poet, who in the most perfect form of the epos was completely lost in his subject, now came before the people as a man with thoughts and objects of his own, and gave free vent to the emotions of his soul in elegiac and iambic strains. The word elegeion means nothing more than the combination of a hexameter and a pentameter, making together a distich, and an elegy is a poem of such verses. It was usually sung at the Symposia or literary festivals of the Greeks; in most cases its main subject was political; it afterwards assumed a plaintive or amatory tone. The elegy is the first regularly cultivated branch of Greek poetry, in which the flute alone and neither the cithara nor lyre was employed. It was not necessary that lamentations should form the subject of it, but emotion was essential, and excited by events or circumstances of the time or place the poet poured forth his heart in the unreserved expression of his fears and hopes.

Tyrtaeus (fl. 694 B.C.), who went from Athens to Sparta, composed the most celebrated of his elegies on the occasion of the Messenian war, and when the Spartans were on a campaign, it was their custom after the evening meal, when the paean had been sung in honor of the gods, to recite these poems. From this time we find a union between the elegiac and iambic poetry; the same poet, who employs the elegy to express his joyous and melancholy emotions, has recourse to the iambus when his cool sense prompts him to censure the follies of mankind. The relation between these two metres is observable in Archilochus (fl. 688 B.C.) and Simonides (fl. 664 B.C.). The elegies of Archilochus, of which many fragments are extant (while of Simonides we only know that he composed elegies), had nothing of that spirit of which his iambics were full, but they contain the frank expression of a mind powerfully affected by outward circumstances. With the Spartans, wine and the pleasures of the feast became the subject of the elegy, and it was also recited at the solemnities held in honor of all who had fallen for their country. The elegies of Solon (592-559 B.C.) were pure expressions of his political feelings. Simonides of Scios, the renowned lyric poet, the contemporary of Pindar and Aeschylus, was one of the great masters of elegiac song.

The epigram was originally an inscription on a tombstone, or a votive offering in a temple, or on any other thing which required explanation. The unexpected turn of thought and pointedness of expression, which the moderns consider the essence of this species of composition, were not required in the ancient Greek epigram, where nothing was wanted but that the entire thought should be conveyed within the limit of a few distichs, and thus, in the hands of the early poets, the epigram was remarkable for the conciseness and expressiveness of its language and differed in this respect from the elegy, in which full expression was given to the feelings of the poet.

It was Simonides who first gave to the epigram all the perfection of which it was capable, and he was frequently employed by the states which fought against the Persians to adorn with inscriptions the tombs of their fallen warriors. The most celebrated of these is the inimitable inscription on the Spartans who died at Thermopylae: "Foreigner, tell the Lacedaemonians that we are lying here in obedience to their laws." On the Rhodian lyric poet, Timocreon, an opponent of Simonides in his art, he wrote the following in the form of an epitaph: "Having eaten much and drank much and said much evil of other men, here I lie, Timocreon the Rhodian."

6. IAMBIC POETRY, THE FABLE AND PARODY.—The kind of poetry known by the ancients as Iambic was created among the Athenians by Archilochus at the same time as the elegy. It arose at a period when the Greeks, accustomed only to the calm, unimpassioned tone of the epos, had but just found a temperate expression of lively emotion in the elegy. It was a light, tripping measure, sometimes loosely constructed, or purposely halting and broken, well adapted to vituperation, unrestrained by any regard to morality and decency. At the public tables of Sparta keen and pointed raillery was permitted, and some of the most venerable and sacred of their religious rites afforded occasion for their unsparing and audacious jests. This raillery was so ancient and inveterate a custom, that it had given rise to a peculiar word, which originally denoted nothing but the jests and banter used at these festivals, namely, Iambus. All the wanton extravagance which was elsewhere repressed by law or custom, here, under the protection of religion, burst forth with boundless license, and these scurrilous effusions were at length reduced by Archilochus into the systematic form of iambic metre.

Akin to the iambic are two sorts of poetry, the fable and the parody, which, though differing widely from each other, have both their source in the turn for the delineation of the ludicrous, and both stand in close historical relation to the iambic. The fable in Greece originated in an intentional travesty of human affairs. It is probable that the taste for fables of beasts and numerous similar inventions found its way from the East, since this sort of symbolical narrative is more in accordance with the Oriental than with the Greek character. Aesop (fl. 572 B.C.) was very far from being regarded by the Greeks as one of their poets, and still less as a writer. They considered him merely as an ingenious fabulist, to whom, at a later period, nearly all fables, that were invented or derived from any other source, were attributed. He was a slave, whose wit and pleasantry procured him his freedom, and who finally perished in Delphi, where the people, exasperated by his sarcastic fables, put him to death on a charge of robbing the temple. No metrical versions of these fables are known to have existed in early times.

The word "parody" means an adoption of the form of some celebrated poem with such changes as to produce a totally different effect, and generally to substitute mean and ridiculous for elevated and poetical sentiments. "The Battle of the Frogs and Mice," attributed to Homer, but bearing evident traces of a later age, belongs to this species of poetry.

7. GREEK MUSIC AND LYRIC POETRY.—It was not until the minds of the Greeks had been elevated by the productions of the epic muse, that the genius of original poets broke loose from the dominion of the epic style, and invented new forms for expressing the emotions of a mind profoundly agitated by passing events; with few innovations in the elegy, but with greater boldness in the iambic metre. In these two forms, Greek poetry entered the domain of real life. The elegy and iambus contain the germ of the lyric style, though they do not themselves come under that head. The Greek lyric poetry was characterized by the expression of deeper and more impassioned feeling, and a more impetuous tone than the elegy and iambus, and at the same time the effect was heightened by appropriate vocal and instrumental music, and often by the figures of the dance. In this union of the sister arts, poetry was indeed predominant, yet music, in its turn, exercised a reciprocal influence on poetry, so that as it became more cultivated, the choice of the musical measure decided the tone of the whole poem.

The history of Greek music begins with Terpander the Lesbian (fl. 670 B.C.), who was many times the victor in the musical contests at the Pythian temple of Delphi. He added three new strings to the cithara, which had consisted only of four, and this heptachord was employed by Pindar, and remained long in high repute; he was also the first who marked the different tones in music. With other musicians, he united the music of Asia Minor with that of the ancient Greeks, and founded on it a system in which each style had its appropriate character. By the efforts of Terpander and one or two other masters, music was brought to a high degree of excellence, and adapted to express any feeling to which the poet could give a more definite character and meaning, and thus they had solved the great problem of their art. It was in Greece the constant endeavor of the great poets, thinkers, and statesmen who interested themselves in the education of youth, to give a good direction to this art; they all dreaded the increasing prevalence of a luxuriant style of instrumental music and an unrestricted flight into the boundless realms of harmony.

The lyric poetry of the Greeks was of two kinds, and cultivated by two different schools of poets. One, called the Aeolic, flourished among the Aeolians of Asia Minor, and particularly in the island of Lesbos; the other, the Doric, which, although diffused over the whole of Greece, was at first principally cultivated by the Dorians. These two schools differed essentially in the subjects, as in the form and style of their poems. The Doric was intended to be executed by choruses', and to be sung to choral dances; while the Aeolic was recited by a single person, who accompanied his recitation with a stringed instrument, generally the lyre.

8. AEOLIC LYRIC POETS.—Alcaeus (fl. 611 B.C.), born in Mytilene in the island of Lesbos, being driven out of his native city for political reasons, wandered about the world, and, in the midst of troubles and perils, struck the lyre and gave utterance to the passionate emotions of his mind. His war-songs express a stirring, martial spirit; and a noble nature, accompanied with strong passions, appears in all his poems, especially in those in which he sings the praises of love and wine, though little of his erotic poetry has reached our time. It is evident that poetry was not with him a mere pastime or exercise of skill, but a means of pouring out the inmost feelings of the soul. Sappho (fl. 600 B.C.) the other leader of the Aeolic school of poetry, was the object of the admiration of all antiquity. She was contemporary with Alcaeus, and in her verses to him we plainly discern the feeling of unimpeached honor proper to a free-born and well-educated maiden. Alcaeus testifies that the attractions and loveliness of Sappho did not derogate from her moral worth when he calls her "violet-crowned, pure, sweetly smiling Sappho." This testimony is, indeed, opposed to the accounts of later writers, but the probable cause of the false imputations in reference to Sappho seems to be that the refined Athenians were incapable of appreciating the frank simplicity with which she poured forth her feelings, and therefore they confounded them with unblushing immodesty. While the men of Athens were distinguished for their perfection in every branch of art, none of their women emerged from the obscurity of domestic life. "That woman is the best," says Pericles, "of whom the least is said among men, whether for good or for evil." But the Aeolians had in some degree preserved the ancient Greek manners, and their women enjoyed a distinct individual existence and moral character. They doubtless participated in the general high state of civilization, which not only fostered poetical talents of a high order among women, but produced in them a turn for philosophical reflection. This was so utterly inconsistent with Athenian manners, that we cannot wonder that women, who had in any degree overstepped the bounds prescribed to their sex at Athens, should be represented by the licentious pen of Athenian comic writers as lost to every sense of shame and decency. Sappho, in her odes, made frequent mention of a youth to whom she gave her whole heart, while he requited her love with cold indifference; but there is no trace of her having named the object of her passion. She may have celebrated the beautiful and mythical Phaon in such a manner that the verses were supposed to refer to a lover of her own. The account of her leap from the Leucadian rock is rather a poetical image, than a real event in the life of the poetess. The true conception of the erotic poetry of Sappho can only be drawn from the fragments of her odes, which, though numerous, are for the most part very short. Among them, we must distinguish the Epithalamia or hymeneals, which were peculiarly adapted to the genius of the poetess from the exquisite perception she seems to have had of whatever was attractive in either sex. From the numerous fragments that remain, these poems appear to have had great beauty and much of that expression which the simple and natural manners of the times allowed, and the warm and sensitive heart of the poetess suggested. That Sappho's fame was spread throughout Greece, may be seen from the history of Solon, who was her contemporary. Hearing his nephew recite one of her poems, he said that he would not willingly die until he had learned it by heart. And, doubtless, from that circle of accomplished women, of whom she formed the brilliant centre, a flood of poetic light was poured forth on every side. Among them may be mentioned the names of Damophila and Erinna, whose poem, "The Spindle," was highly esteemed by the ancients.

The genius of Anacreon (fl. 540 B.C.), though akin to that of Alcaeus and Sappho, had an entirely different bent. He seems to consider life as valuable only so far as it can be spent in wine, love, and social enjoyment. The Ionic softness and departure from strict rule may also be perceived in his versification. The different odes preserved under his name are the productions of poets of a much later date. With Anacreon ceased the species of lyric poetry in which he excelled; indeed, he stands alone in it, and the tender softness of his song was soon drowned by the louder tones of the choral poetry.

The Scolia were a kind of lyric songs sung at social meals, when the spirit was raised by wine and conversation to a lyrical pitch. The lyre or a sprig of myrtle was handed round the table and presented to any one who could amuse the company by a song or even a good sentence in a lyrical form.

9. DORIC, OR CHORAL LYRIC POETS.—The chorus was in general use in Greece before the time of Homer, and nearly every variety of the choral poetry, which was afterwards so brilliantly developed, existed at that remote period in a rude, unfinished state. After the improvements made by Terpander and others in musical art, choral poetry rapidly progressed towards perfection. The poets during the period of progress were Alcman and Stesichorus, while finished lyric poetry is represented by Ibycus, Simonides, his disciple Bacchylides and Pindar. These great poets were only the representatives of the fervor with which the religious festivals inspired all classes. Choral dances were performed by the whole people with great ardor and enthusiasm; every considerable town had its poet, who devoted his whole life to the training and exhibition of choruses.

Alcman (b. 660 B.C.) was a Lydian of Sardis, and an emancipated slave. His poems exhibit a great variety of metre, of dialect, and of poetic tone. He is regarded as having overcome the difficulties presented by the rough dialect of Sparta, and as having succeeded in investing it with a certain grace. He is one of the poets whose image is most effaced by time, and of whom we can obtain little accurate knowledge. The admiration awarded him by antiquity is scarcely justified by the extant remains of his poems.

Stesichorus (fl. 611 B.C.) lived at a time when the predominant tendency of the Greek mind was towards lyric poetry. His special business was the training and direction of the choruses, and he assumed the name of Stesichorus, or leader of choruses, his real name being Tesias. His metres approach more nearly to the epos than those of Aleman. As Quintilian says, he sustained the weight of epic poetry with the lyre. His language accorded with the tone of his poetry, and he is not less remarkable in himself, than as the precursor of the perfect lyric poetry of Pindar.

Arion (625-585 B.C.) was chiefly known in Greece as the perfecter of the "Dithyramb," a song of Bacchanalian festivals, doubtless of great antiquity. Its character, like the worship to which it belonged, was always impassioned and enthusiastic; the extremes of feeling, rapturous pleasure, and wild lamentation were both expressed in it.

Ibycus (b. 528 B.C.) was a wandering poet, as is attested by the story of his death having been avenged by the cranes. His poetical style resembles that of Stesichorus, as also his subjects. The erotic poetry of Ibycus is most celebrated, and breathes a fervor of passion far exceeding that of any similar production of Greek literature.

Simonides (556-468 B.C.) has already been described as one of the great masters of the elegy and epigram. In depth and novelty of ideas, and in the fervor of poetic feeling, he was far inferior to his contemporary Pindar, but he was probably the most prolific lyric poet of Greece. According to the frequent reproach of the ancients, he was the first that sold his poems for money. His style was not as lofty as that of Pindar, hut what he lost in sublimity he gained in pathos.

Bacchylides (fl. 450 B.C.), the nephew of Simonides, devoted his genius chiefly to the pleasures of private life, love, and wine, and his productions, when compared with those of Simonides, are marked by less moral elevation.

Timocreon the Rhodian (fl. 471 B.C.) owes his chief celebrity among the ancients to the hate he bore to Themistocles in political life, and to Simonides on the field of poetry.

Pindar (522-435 B.C.) was the contemporary of Aeschylus, but as the causes which determined his poetical character are to be sought in an earlier age, and in the Doric and Aeolic parts of Greece, he may properly be placed at the close of the early period, while Aeschylus stands at the head of the new epoch of literature. Like Hesiod, Pindar was a native of Boeotia, and that there was still much love for music and poetry there is proved by the fact that two women, Myrtis and Corinna, had obtained great celebrity in these arts during the youth of this poet. Myrtis (fl. 490 B.C.) strove with him for the prize at the public games, and Corinna (fl. 490 B.C.) is said to have gained the victory over him five times. Too little of the poetry of Corinna has been preserved to allow a judgment on her style of composition. Pindar made the arts of poetry and music the business of his life, and his fame soon spread throughout Greece and the neighboring countries. He excelled in all the known varieties of choral poetry, but the only class of poems that enable us to judge of his general style is his triumphal odes. When a victory was gained in a contest at a festival by the speed of horses, the strength and dexterity of the human body, or by skill in music, such a victory, which shed honor not only on the victor, but also on his family, and even on his native city, demanded a public celebration. An occasion of this kind had always a religious character, and often began with a procession to an altar or temple, where a sacrifice was offered, followed by a banquet, and the solemnity concluded with a merry and boisterous revel. At this sacred and at the same time joyous festival, the chorus appeared and recited the triumphal hymn, which was considered the fairest ornament of the triumph. Such an occasion, a victory in the sacred games and its end, the ennobling of a ceremony connected with the worship of the gods, required that the ode should be composed in a lofty and dignified style. Pindar does not content himself with celebrating the bodily prowess of the victor alone, but he usually adds some moral virtue which he has shown, and which he recommends and extols. Sometimes this virtue is moderation, wisdom, or filial love, more often piety to the gods, and he expounds to the victor his destiny, by showing him the dependence of his exploits on the higher order of things. Mythical narratives occupy much space in these odes, for in the time of Pindar the mythical past was invested with a splendor and sublimity, of which even the faint reflection was sufficient to embellish the present.

10. ORPHIC DOCTRINES AND POEMS.—The interval between Homer and Pindar is an important period in the history of Greek civilization. In Homer we perceive that infancy of the mind which lives in seeing and imagining, and whose moral judgments are determined by impulses of feeling rather than by rules of conduct, while with Pindar the chief effort of his genius is to discover the true standard of moral government. This great change of opinion must have been affected by the efforts of many sages and poets. All the Greek religious poetry, treating of death and of the world beyond the grave, refers to the deities whose influence was supposed to be exercised in the dark regions at the centre of the earth, and who had little connection with the political and social relations of human life. They formed a class apart from the gods of Olympus; the mysteries of the Greeks were connected with their worship alone, and the love of immortality first found support in a belief in these deities. The mysteries of Demeter, especially those celebrated at Eleusis, inspired the most animating hopes with regard to the soul after death. These mysteries, however, had little influence on the literature of the nation; but there was a society of persons called the followers of Orpheus, who published their notions and committed them to literary works. Under the guidance of the ancient mystical poet, Orpheus, they dedicated themselves to the worship of Bacchus or Dionysus, in which they sought satisfaction for an ardent longing after the soothing and elevating influences of religion, and upon the worship of this deity they founded their hopes of an ultimate immortality of the soul. Unlike the popular worshipers of Bacchus, they did not indulge in unrestrained pleasure or frantic enthusiasm, but rather aimed at an ascetic purity of life and manners. It is difficult to tell when this association was formed in Greece, but we find in Hesiod something of the Orphic spirit, and the beginning of higher and more hopeful views of death.

The endeavor to obtain a knowledge of divine and human things was in Greece slowly and with difficulty evolved from their religious notions, and it was for a long time confined to the refining and rationalizing of their mythology. An extensive Orphic literature first appeared at the time of the Persian war, when the remains of the Pythagorean order in Magna Graecia united themselves to the Orphic associations. The philosophy of Pythagoras, however, had no analogy with the spirit of the Orphic mysteries, in which the worship of Dionysus was the centre of all religious ideas, while the Pythagorean philosophers preferred the worship of Apollo and the Muses. In the Orphic theogony we find, for the first time, the idea of creation. Another difference between the notions of the Orphic poets and those of the early Greeks was that the former did not limit their views to the present state of mankind, still less did they acquiesce in Hesiod's melancholy doctrine of successive ages, each one worse than the preceding; but they looked for a cessation of strife, a state of happiness and beatitude at the end of all things. Their hopes of this result were founded on Dionysus, from the worship of whom all their peculiar religious ideas were derived. This god, the son of Zeus, is to succeed him in the government of the world, to restore the Golden Age, and to liberate human souls, who, according to an Orphic notion, are punished by being confined in the body as in a prison. The sufferings of the soul in its prison, the steps and transitions by which it passes to a higher state of existence, and its gradual purification and enlightenment, were all fully described in these poems. Thus, in the poetry of the first five centuries of Greek literature, especially at the close of this period, we find, instead of the calm enjoyment of outward nature which characterized the early epic poetry, a profound sense of the misery of human life, and an ardent longing for a condition of greater happiness. This feeling, indeed, was not so extended as to become common to the whole Greek nation, but it took deep root in individual minds, and was connected with more serious and spiritual views of human nature.

11. PRE-SOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY.—Philosophy was early cultivated by the Greeks, who first among all nations distinguished it from religion and mythology. For some time, however, after its origin, it was as far removed from the ordinary thoughts and occupations of the people as poetry was intimately connected with them. Poetry idealizes all that is most characteristic of a nation; its religion, mythology, political and social institutions, and manners. Philosophy, on the other hand, begins by detaching the mind from the opinions and habits in which it has been bred up, from the national conceptions of the gods and the universe, and from traditionary maxims of ethics and politics. The philosophy of Greece, antecedent to the time of Socrates, is contained in the doctrines of the Ionic, Eleatic, and Pythagorean. schools. Thales of Miletus (639-548 B.C.) was the first in the series of the Ionic philosophers. He was one of the Seven Sages, who by their practical wisdom nobly contributed to the flourishing condition of Greece. Thales, Solon, Bion (fl. 570 B.C.), Cleobulus (fl. 542 B.C.), Periander (fl. 598 B.C.), Pittacus of Mytilene (579 B.C.), and Chilon (fl. 542 B.C.), were the seven philosophers called the seven sages by their countrymen. Thales is said to have foretold an eclipse of the sun, for which he doubtless employed astronomical formulae, which he had obtained from the Chaldeans. His tendency was practical, and where his own knowledge was insufficient, he applied the discoveries of other nations more advanced than his own. He considered all nature as endowed with life, and sought to discover the principles of external forms in the powers which lie beneath; he taught that water was the principle of things. Anaximander (fl. 547 B.C.), and Anaximenes (fl. 548 B.C.) were the other two most distinguished representatives of the Ionic school. The former believed that chaotic matter was the principle of all things, the latter taught that it was air. The Eleatic school is represented by Xenophanes, Parmenides, and Zeno. As the philosophers of the first school were called Ionians from the country in which they resided, so these were named from Elea, a Greek colony of Italy. Xenophanes (fl. 538 B.C.), the founder of this school, adopted a different principle from that of the Ionic philosophers, and proceeded upon an ideal system, while that of the latter was exclusively founded upon experience. He began with the idea of the godhead, and showed the necessity of considering it as an eternal and unchanging existence, and represented the anthropomorphic conceptions of the Greeks concerning their gods as mere prejudices. In his works he retained the poetic form of composition, some fragments of which he himself recited at public festivals, after the manner of the rhapsodists. Parmenides flourished 504 years B.C. His philosophy rested upon the idea of existence which excluded the idea of creation, and thus fell into pantheism. His poem on "Nature" was composed in the epic metre, and in it he expressed in beautiful forms the most abstract ideas. Zeno of Elea (fl. 500 B.C.) was a pupil of Parmenides, and the earliest prose writer among the Greek philosophers. He developed the doctrines of his master by showing the absurdities involved in the ideas of variety and of creation, as opposed to one and universal substance. Other philosophers belonging to Iona or Elea may be referred to these schools, as Heraclitus, Empedocles, Democritus, and Anaxagoras, whose doctrines, however, vary from those of the representatives of the philosophical systems above named. Heraclitus (fl. 505 B.C.) dealt rather in intimations of important truths than in popular exposition of them; his cardinal doctrine seems to have been that everything is in perpetual motion, that nothing has any permanent existence, and that everything is assuming a new form or perishing: the principle of this perpetual motion he supposed to be fixe, though probably he did not mean material fire, but some higher and more universal agent. Like nearly all the philosophers, he despised the popular religion. Empedocles (fl. 440 B.C.) wrote a doctrinal poem concerning nature, fragments of which have been preserved. He denied the possibility of creation, and held the doctrine of an eternal and imperishable existence; but he considered this existence as having different natures, and admitted that fire, earth, air, and water were the four elements of all things. These elements he supposed to be governed by two principles, one positive and one negative, that is to say, connecting love and dissolving discord. Democritus (fl. 460 B.C.) embodied his extensive knowledge in a series of writings, of which only a few fragments have been preserved. Cicero compared him with Plato for rhythm and elegance of language. He derived the manifold phenomena of the world from the different form, disposition, and arrangement of the innumerable elements or atoms as they become united. He is the founder of the atomic doctrine. Anaxagoras (fl. 456 B.C.) rejected all popular notions of religion, excluded the idea of creation and destruction, and taught that atoms were unchangeable and imperishable; that spirit, the purest and subtlest of all things, gave to these atoms the impulse by which they took the forms of individual things and beings; and that this impulse was given in circular motion, which kept the heavenly bodies in their courses. But none of his doctrines gave so much offence or was considered so clear a proof of his atheism as his opinion that the sun, the bountiful god Helios, who shines both upon mortals and immortals, was a mass of red-hot iron. His doctrines tended powerfully by their rapid diffusion to undermine the principles on which the worship of the ancient gods rested, and they therefore prepared the way for the subsequent triumph of Christianity.

The Pythagorean or Italic School was founded by Pythagoras, who is said to have flourished between 540 and 500 B.C. Pythagoras was probably an Ionian who emigrated to Italy, and there established his school. His principal efforts were directed to practical life, especially to the regulation of political institutions, and his influence was exercised by means of lectures, or sayings, or by the establishment and direction of the Pythagorean associations. He encouraged the study of mathematics and music, and considered singing to the cithara as best fitted to produce that mental repose and harmony of soul which he regarded as the highest object of education.

12. HISTORY.—It is remarkable that a people so cultivated as the Greeks should have been so long without feeling the want of a correct record of their transactions in war and peace. The difference between this nation and the Orientals, in this respect, is very great. But the division of the country into numerous small states, and the republican form of the governments, prevented a concentration of interest on particular events and persons, and owing to the dissensions between the republics, their historical traditions could not but offend some while they flattered others; it was not until a late period that the Greeks considered contemporary events as worthy of being thought or written of. But for this absence of authentic history, Greek literature could never have become what it was. By the purely fictitious character of its poetry, and its freedom from the shackles of particular truths, it acquired that general probability which led Aristotle to consider poetry as more philosophical than history. Greek art, likewise, from the lateness of the period at which it descended from the representation of gods and heroes to the portraits of real men, acquired a nobleness and beauty of form which it could not otherwise have obtained. This poetical basis gave the literature of the Greeks a noble and liberal turn.

Writing was probably known in Greece some centuries before the time of Cadmus of Miletus (fl. 522 B.C.), but it had not been employed for the purpose of preserving any detailed historical record, and even when, towards the end of the age of the Seven Sages (550 B.C.), some writers of historical narratives began to appear, they did not select recent historical events, but those of distant times and countries; so entirely did they believe that oral tradition and the daily discussions of common life were sufficient records of the events of their own time and country. Cadmus of Miletus is mentioned as the first historian, but his works seem to have been early lost. To him, and other Greek historians before the time of Herodotus, scholars have given the name of Logographers, from Logos, signifying any discourse in prose.

The first Greek to whom it occurred that a narrative of facts might be made intensely interesting was Herodotus (484-432 B.C.), a native of Halicarnassus in Asia Minor, the Homer of Greek history. Obliged, for political reasons, to leave his native land, he visited many countries, such as Egypt, Babylon, and Persia, and spent the latter years of his life in one of the Grecian settlements in Italy, where he devoted himself to the composition of his work. His travels were undertaken from the pure spirit of inquiry, and for that age they were very extensive and important. It is probable that his great and intricate plan, hitherto unknown in the historical writings of the Greeks, did not at first occur to him, and that it was only in his later years that he conceived the complete idea of a work so far beyond those of his predecessors and contemporaries. It is stated that he recited his history at different festivals, which is quite credible, though there is little authority for the story that at one of these Thucydides was present as a boy, and shed tears, drawn forth by his own desire for knowledge and his intense interest in the narrative. His work comprehends a history of nearly all the nations of the world at that time known. It has an epic character, not only from the equable and uninterrupted flow of the narrative, but also from certain pervading ideas which give a tone to the whole. The principal of these is the idea of a fixed destiny, of a wise arrangement of the world, which has prescribed to every being his path, and which allots ruin and destruction not only to crime and violence, but to excessive power and riches and the overweening pride which is their companion. In this consists the envy of the gods so often mentioned by Herodotus, and usually called by the other Greeks the divine Nemesis. He constantly adverts in his narrative to the influence of this divine power, the Daemonion, as he calls it. He shows how the Deity visits the sins of the ancestors upon their descendants, how man rushes, as it were, wilfully upon his own destruction, and how oracles mislead by their ambiguity, when interpreted by blind passion. He shows his awe of the divine Nemesis by his moderation and the firmness with which he keeps down the ebullitions of national pride. He points out traits of greatness of character in the hostile kings of Persia, and shows his countrymen how often they owed their successes to Providence and external advantages rather than to their own valor and ability. Since Herodotus saw the working of a divine agency in all human events, and considered the exhibition of it as the main object of his history, his aim is totally different from that of a historian who regards the events of life merely with reference to men. He is, in truth, a theologian and a poet as well as a historian. It is, however, vain to deny that when Herodotus did not see himself the events which he describes, he is often deceived by the misrepresentations of others; yet, without his single-hearted simplicity, his disposition to listen to every remarkable account, and his admiration for the wonders of the Eastern world, Herodotus would never have imparted to us many valuable accounts. Modern travelers, naturalists, and geographers have often had occasion to admire the truth, and correctness of the information contained in his simple and marvelous narratives. But no dissertation on this writer can convey any idea of the impression made by reading his work; his language closely approximates to oral narration; it is like hearing a person speak who has seen and lived through a variety of remarkable things, and whose greatest delight consists in recalling these images of the past. Though a Dorian by birth, he adopted the Ionic dialect, with its uncontracted terminations, its accumulated vowels, and its soft forms. These various elements conspire to render the work of Herodotus a production as perfect in its kind as any human work can be.

PERIOD SECOND.

THE EPOCH OF THE ATHENIAN LITERATURE (484-322 B.C.).

1. LITERARY PREDOMINANCE OF ATHENS.—Among the Greeks a national literature was early formed. Every literary work in the Greek language, in whatever dialect it might be composed, was enjoyed by the whole nation, and the fame of remarkable writers soon spread throughout Greece. Certain cities were considered almost as theatres, where the poets and sages could bring their powers and acquirements into public notice. Among these, Sparta stood highest down to the time of the Persian war. But when Athens, raised by her political power and the mental qualities of her citizens, acquired the rank of the capital of Greece, literature assumed a different form, and there is no more important epoch in the history of the Greek intellect than the time when she obtained this pre-eminence over her sister states. The character of the Athenians peculiarly fitted them to take this lead; they were Ionians, and the boundless resources and mobility of the Ionian spirit are shown by their astonishing productions in Asia Minor and in the islands, in the two centuries previous to the Persian war; in their iambic and elegiac poetry, and in the germs of philosophic inquiry and historical composition. The literature of those who remained in Attica seemed poor and meagre when compared with that luxuriant outburst; nor did it appear, till a later period, that the progress of the Athenian intellect was the more sound and lasting. The Ionians of Asia Minor, becoming at length enfeebled and corrupted by the luxuries of the East, passed easily under the power of the Persians, while the inhabitants of Attica, encompassed and oppressed by the manly tribes of Greece, and forced to keep the sword constantly in their hands, exerted all their talents and thus developed all their extraordinary powers.

Solon, the great lawgiver, arose to combine moral strictness and order with freedom of action. After Solon came the dominion of the Pisistratidae, which lasted from about 560 to 510 B.C. They showed a fondness for art, diffused a taste for poetry among the Athenians, and naturalized at Athens the best literary productions of Greece. They were unquestionably the first to introduce the entire recital of the Iliad and Odyssey; they also brought to Athens the most distinguished lyric poets of the time, Anacreon, Simonides, and others. But, notwithstanding their patronage of literature and art, it was not till after the fall of their dynasty that Athens shot up with a vigor that can only be derived from the consciousness of every citizen that he has a share in the common weal.

It is a remarkable fact that Athens produced her most excellent works in literature and art in the midst of the greatest political convulsions, and of her utmost efforts for conquest and self-preservation. The long dominion of the Pisistratids produced nothing more important than the first rudiments of the tragic drama, for the origin of comedy at the country festivals of Bacchus falls in the time before Pisistratus. On the other hand, the thirty years between the expulsion of Hippias, the last of the Pisistratids, and the battle of Salamis (510-480 B.C.), was a period marked by great events both in politics and literature. Athens contended with success against her warlike neighbors, supported the Ionians in their revolt against Persia, and warded off the first powerful attack of the Persians upon Greece. During the same period, the pathetic tragedies of Phrynichus and the lofty tragedies of Aeschylus appeared on the stage, political eloquence was awakened in Themistocles, and everything seemed to give promise of future greatness.

The political events which followed the Persian war gradually gave to Athens the dominion over her allies, so that she became the sovereign of a large and flourishing empire, comprehending the islands and coasts of the Aegean and a part of the Euxine sea. In this manner was gained a wide basis for the lofty edifice of political glory, which was raised by her statesmen. The completion of this splendid structure was due to Pericles (500-429 B.C.). Through his influence Athens became a dominant community, whose chief business it was to administer the affairs of an extensive empire, flourishing in agriculture, industry, and commerce. Pericles, however, did not make the acquisition of power the highest object of his exertions; his aim was to realize in Athens the idea which he had conceived of human greatness, that great and noble thoughts should pervade the whole mass of the ruling people; and this was, in fact, the case as long as his influence lasted, to a greater degree than has occurred in any other period of history. The objects to which Pericles directed the people, and for which he accumulated so much power and wealth at Athens, may be best seen in the still extant works of architecture and sculpture which originated under his administration. He induced the Athenian people to expend on the decoration of Athens a larger part of its ample revenues than was ever applied to this purpose in any other state, either republican or monarchical. Of the surpassing skill with which he collected into one focus the rays of artistic genius at Athens, no stronger proof can be afforded, than the fact that no subsequent period, through the patronage of Macedonian or Roman princes, produced works of equal excellence, Indeed, it may be said that the creations of the age of Pericles are the only works of art which completely satisfy the most refined and cultivated taste.

But this brilliant exhibition of human excellence was not without its dark side, nor the flourishing state of Athenian civilization exempt from the elements of decay. The political position of Athens soon led to a conflict between the patriotism and moderation of her citizens, and their interests and passions. From the earliest times, this city had stood in an unfriendly relation to the rest of Greece, and her policy of compelling so many cities to contribute their wealth in order to make her the focus of art and civilization was accompanied with offensive pride and selfish patriotism. The energy in action, which distinguished the Athenians, degenerated into a restless love of adventure; and that dexterity in the use of words, which they cultivated more than the other Greeks, induced them to subject everything to discussion, and destroyed the habits founded on unreasoning faith. The principles of the policy of Pericles were closely connected with the demoralization which followed his administration. By founding the power of the Athenians on the dominion of the sea, he led them to abandon land war and the military exercises requisite for it, which had hardened the old warriors at Marathon. As he made them a dominant people, whose time was chiefly devoted to the business of governing their widely-extended empire, it was necessary for him to provide that the common citizens of Athens should be able to gain a livelihood by their attention to public business, and accordingly, a large revenue was distributed among them in the form of wages for attendance in the courts of justice and other public assemblies. These payments to citizens for their share in the public business were quite new in Greece, and many considered the sitting and listening in these assemblies as an idle life in comparison with the labor of the plowman and vine-grower in the country, and for a long time the industrious cultivators, the brave warriors, and the men of old-fashioned morality were opposed, among the citizens of Athens, to the loquacious, luxurious, and dissolute generation who passed their whole time in the market-place and courts of justice. The contests between these two parties are the main subject of the early Attic comedy.

Literature and art, however, were not, during the Peloponnesian war, affected by the corruption of morals. The works of this period exhibit not only a perfection of form but also an elevation of soul and a grandeur of conception, which fill us with admiration not only for those who produced them, but for those who could enjoy such works of art. A step farther, and the love of genuine beauty gave place to a desire for evil pleasures, and the love of wisdom degenerated into an idle use of words.

2. THE DRAMA.—The spirit of an age is more completely represented by its poetry than by its prose composition, and accordingly we may best trace the character of the three different stages of civilization among the Greeks in the three grand divisions of their poetry. The epic belongs to their monarchical period, when the minds of the people were impregnated and swayed by legends handed down from antiquity. Elegiac, iambic, and lyric poetry arose in the more stirring and agitated times which accompanied the development of republican governments, times in which each individual gave vent to his personal aims and wishes, and all the depths of the human breast were unlocked by the inspirations of poetry. And now, when at the summit of Greek civilization, in the very prime of Athenian power and freedom, we see dramatic poetry spring up as the organ of the prevailing thoughts and feelings of the time, we are naturally led to ask how it comes that this style of poetry agreed so well with the spirit of the age, and so far outstripped its competitors in the contest for public favor.

Dramatic poetry, as its name implies, represents actions, which are not, as in the epos, merely narrated, but seem to take place before the eyes of the spectator. The epic poet appears to regard the events, which he relates from afar, as objects of calm contemplation and admiration, and is always conscious of the great interval between him and them, while the dramatist plunges with his entire soul into the scenes of human life, and seems himself to experience the events which he exhibits to our view. The drama comprehends and develops the events of human life with a force and depth which no other style of poetry can reach.

If we carry ourselves in imagination back to a time when dramatic composition was unknown, we must acknowledge that its creation required great boldness of mind. Hitherto the bard had only sung of gods and heroes; it was, therefore, a great change for the poet himself to come forward all at once in the character of the god or hero, in a nation which, even in its amusements, had always adhered closely to established usages. It is true that there is much in human nature which impels it to dramatic representations, such as the universal love of imitating other persons, and the child-like liveliness with which a narrator, strongly impressed with his subject, delivers a speech which he has heard or perhaps only imagined. Yet there is a wide step from these disjointed elements to the genuine drama, and it seems that no nation, except the Greeks, ever made this step. The dramatic poetry of the Hindus belongs to a time when there had been much intercourse between Greece and India; even in ancient Greece and Italy, dramatic poetry, and especially tragedy, attained to perfection only in Athens, and here it was exhibited only at a few festivals of a single god, Dionysus, while epic rhapsodies and lyric odes were recited on various occasions. All this is incomprehensible, if we suppose dramatic poetry to have originated in causes independent of the peculiar circumstances of time and place. If a love of imitation and a delight in disguising the real person under a mask were the basis upon which this style of poetry was raised, the drama would have been as natural and as universal among men as these qualities are common to their nature.

A more satisfactory explanation of the origin of the Greek drama may be found in its connection with the worship of the gods, and particularly that of Bacchus. The gods were supposed to dwell in their temples and to participate in their festivals, and it was not considered presumptuous or unbecoming to represent them as acting like human beings, as was frequently done by mimic representations. The worship of Bacchus had one quality which was more than any other calculated to give birth to the drama, and particularly to tragedy, namely, the enthusiasm which formed an essential part of it, and which proceeded from an impassioned sympathy with the events of nature in connection with the course of the seasons. The original participators in these festivals believed that they perceived the god to be really affected by the changes of nature, killed or dying, flying and rescued, or reanimated, victorious, and dominant. Although the great changes, which took place in the religion and cultivation of the Greeks, banished from their minds the conviction that these events really occurred, yet an enthusiastic sympathy with the god and his fortunes, as with real events, always remained. The swarm of subordinate beings by whom Bacchus was surrounded—satyrs, nymphs, and a variety of beautiful and grotesque forms—were ever present to the fancy of the Greeks, and it was not necessary to depart very widely from the ordinary course of ideas to imagine them visible to human eyes among the solitary woods and rocks. The custom, so prevalent at the festivals of Bacchus, of taking the disguise of satyrs, doubtless originated in the desire to approach more nearly to the presence of their divinity. The desire of escaping from self into something new and strange, of living in an imaginary world, broke forth in a thousand instances in those festivals. It was seen in the coloring of the body, the wearing of skins and masks of wood or bark, and in the complete costume belonging to the character.

The learned writers of antiquity agree in stating that tragedy, as well as comedy, was originally a choral song. The action, the adventures of the gods, was presupposed or only symbolically indicated; the chorus expressed their feelings upon it. This choral song belonged to the class of the dithyramb, an enthusiastic ode to Bacchus, capable of expressing every variety of feeling excited by the worship of that god. It was first sung by revelers at convivial meetings, afterwards it was regularly executed by a chorus. The subject of these tragic choruses sometimes changed from Bacchus to other heroes distinguished for their misfortunes and suffering. The reason why the dithyramb and afterwards tragedy was transferred from that god to heroes and not to other gods of the Greek Olympus, was that the latter were elevated above the chances of fortune and the alternations of joy and grief to which both Bacchus and the heroes were subject.

It is stated by Aristotle, that tragedy originated with the chief singers of the dithyramb. It is probable that they represented Bacchus himself or his messengers, that they came forward and narrated his perils and escapes, and that the chorus then expressed their feeling, as at passing events. The chorus thus naturally assumed the character of satellites of Bacchus, whence they easily fell into the parts of satyrs, who were his companions in sportive adventures, as well as in combats and misfortunes. The name of tragedy, or goat's song, was derived from the resemblance of the singers, in their character of satyrs, to goats.

Thus far tragedy had advanced among the Dorians, who, therefore, considered themselves the inventors of it. All its further development belongs to the Athenians. In the time of Pisistratus, Thespis (506 B.C.) first caused tragedy to become a drama, though a very simple one. He connected with the choral representation a regular dialogue, by joining one person to the chorus who was the first actor. He introduced linen masks, and thus the one actor might appear in several characters. In the drama of Thespis we find the satyric drama confounded with tragedy, and the persons of the chorus frequently representing satyrs. The dances of the chorus were still a principal part of the performance; the ancient tragedians, in general, were teachers of dancing, as well as poets and musicians.

In Phrynichus (fl. 512 B.C.) the lyric predominated over the dramatic element. Like Thespis, he had only one actor, but he used this actor for different characters, and he was the first who brought female parts upon the stage, which, according to the manners of the ancients, could be acted only by men. In several instances it is remarkable that Phrynichus deviated from mythical subjects to those taken from contemporary history.

3. TRAGEDY.—The tragedy of antiquity was entirely different from that which, in progress of time, arose among other nations; a picture of human life, agitated by the passions, and corresponding as accurately as possible to its original in all its features. Ancient tragedy departs entirely from ordinary life; its character is in the highest degree ideal, and its development necessary, and essentially directed by the fate to which gods and men were subjected. As tragedy and dramatic exhibitions, generally, were seen only at the festivals of Bacchus, they retained a sort of Bacchic coloring, and the extraordinary excitement of all minds at these festivals, by raising them above the tone of every-day existence, gave both to the tragic and comic muse unwonted energy and fire.

The Bacchic festal costume, which the actors wore, consisted of long striped garments reaching to the ground, over which were thrown upper garments of some brilliant color, with gay trimmings and gold ornaments. The choruses also vied with each other in the splendor of their dress, as well as in the excellence of their singing and dancing. The chorus, which always bore a subordinate part in the action of the tragedy, was in no respect distinguished from the stature and appearance of ordinary men, while the actor, who represented the god or hero, required to be raised above the usual dimensions of mortals. A tragic actor was a strange, and, according to the taste of the ancients themselves at a later period, a very monstrous being. His person was lengthened out considerably beyond the proportions of the human figure by the very high soles of the tragic shoe, and by the length of the tragic mask, and the chest, body, legs, and arms were stuffed and padded to a corresponding size; the body thus lost much of its natural flexibility, and the gesticulation consisted of stiff, angular movements, in which little was left to the emotion or the inspiration of the moment. Masks, which had originated in the taste for mumming and disguises of all sorts, prevalent at the Bacchic festivals, were an indispensable accompaniment to tragedy. They not only concealed the individual features of well-known actors, and enabled the spectators entirely to forget the performer in his part, but gave to his whole aspect that ideal character which the tragedy of antiquity demanded. The tragic mask was not intentionally ugly and caricatured like the comic, but the half-open mouth, the large eye-sockets, and sharply-defined features, in which every characteristic was presented in its utmost strength, and the bright and hard coloring were calculated to make the impression of a being agitated by the emotions and passions of human nature in a degree far above the standard of common life. The masks could, however, be changed between the acts, so as to represent the necessary changes in the state or emotions of the persons.

The ancient theatres were stone buildings of enormous size, calculated to accommodate the whole free and adult population of a great city at the spectacles and festal games. These theatres were not designed exclusively for dramatic poetry; choral dances, processions, revels, and all sorts of representations were held in them. We find theatres in every part of Greece, though dramatic poetry was the peculiar growth of Athens.

The whole structure of the theatre, as well as the drama itself, may be traced to the chorus, whose station was the original centre of the whole performance. The orchestra, which occupied a circular level space in the centre of the building, grew out of the chorus or dancing-place of the Homeric times. The altar of Bacchus, around which the dithyrambic chorus danced in a circle, had given rise to a sort of raised platform in the centre of the orchestra, which served as a resting-place for the chorus.

The chorus sang alone when the actors had quitted the stage, or alternately with the persons of the drama, and sometimes entered into dialogues with them. These persons represented heroes of the mythical world, whose whole aspect bespoke something mightier and more sublime than ordinary humanity, and it was the part of the chorus to show the impression made by the incidents of the drama on lower and feebler minds, and thus, as it were, to interpret them to the audience, with whom they owned a more kindred nature. The ancient stage was remarkably long, and of little depth; it was called the proscenium, because it was in front of the scene. Scene properly means tent or hut, such as originally marked the dwelling of the principal person. This hut at length gave place to a stately scene, enriched with architectural decorations, yet its purpose remained the same.

We have seen how a single actor was added to the chorus by Thespis, who caused him to represent in succession all the persons of the drama. Aeschylus added a second actor in order to obtain the contrast of two acting persons on the stage; even Sophocles did not venture beyond the introduction of a third. But the ancients laid more stress upon the precise number and mutual relations of these actors than can here be explained.

4. THE TRAGIC POETS.—Aeschylus (525-477 B.C.), like almost all the great masters of poetry in ancient Greece, was a poet by profession, and from the great improvements which he introduced into tragedy he was regarded by the Athenians as its founder. Of the seventy tragedies which he is said to have written, only seven are extant. Of these, the "Prometheus" is beyond all question his greatest work. The genius of Aeschylus inclined rather to the awful and sublime, than to the tender and pathetic. He excels in representing the superhuman, in depicting demigods and heroes, and in tracing the irresistible march of fate. The depth of poetical feeling in him is accompanied with intense and philosophical thought; he does not merely represent individual tragical events, but he recurs to the greater elements of tragedy—the subjection of the gods and Titans, and the original dignity and greatness of nature and of man. He delights to portray this gigantic strength, as in his Prometheus chained and tortured, but invincible; and these representations have a moral sublimity far above mere poetic beauty. His tragedies were at once political, patriotic, and religious.

Sophocles (495-406 B.C.), as a poet, is universally allowed to have brought the drama to the highest degree of perfection of which it was susceptible. Indeed, the Greek mind may be said to have culminated in him; his writings overflow with that indescribable charm which only flashes through those of other poets. His plots are worked up with more skill and care than those of either of his great rivals, Aeschylus or Euripides, and he added the last improvement to the form of the drama by the introduction of a third actor,—a change which greatly enlarged the scope of the action. Of the many tragedies which he is said to have written, only seven are extant. Of these, the "Oedipus Tyrannus" is particularly remarkable for its skillful development, and for the manner in which the interest of the piece increases through each succeeding act. Of all the poets of antiquity, Sophocles has penetrated most deeply into the recesses of the human heart. His tragedies appear to us as pictures of the mind, as poetical developments of the secrets of our souls, and of the laws to which their nature makes them amenable.

In Euripides (480-407 B.C.) we discover the first traces of decline in the Greek tragedy. He diminished its dignity by depriving it of its ideal character, and by bringing it down to the level of every-day life. All the characters of Euripides have that loquacity and dexterity in the use of words which distinguished the Athenians of his day; yet in spite of all these faults he has many beauties, and is particularly remarkable for pathos, so that Aristotle calls him the most tragic of poets. Eighteen of his tragedies are still extant.

The contemporaries of the three great tragic poets, Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides, must be regarded for the most part as far from insignificant, since they maintained their place on the stage beside them, and not unfrequently gained the tragic prize in competition with them; yet the general character of these poets must have been deficient in that depth and peculiar force of genius by which these great tragedians were distinguished. If this had not been the case, their works would assuredly have attracted greater attention, and would have been read mere frequently in later times.

5. COMEDY.—Greek comedy was distinguished as the Old, the Middle, and the New. As tragedy arose from the winter feast of Bacchus, which fostered an enthusiastic sympathy with the apparent sorrows of the god of nature, comedy arose from the concluding feast of the vintage, at which an exulting joy over the inexhaustible riches of nature manifested itself in wantonness of every kind. In such a feast, the Comus, or Bacchanalian procession, was a principal ingredient. This was a tumultuous mixture of the wild carouse, the noisy song, and the drunken dance; and the meaning of the word comedy is a comus song. It was from this lyric comedy that the dramatic comedy was gradually produced. It received its full development from Cratinus, who lived in the age of Pericles. Cratinus and his younger contemporaries, Eupolis (431 B.C.) and Aristophanes (452-380 B.C.), were the great poets of the old Attic comedy. Of their works, only eleven dramas of Aristophanes are extant. The chief object of these comedies was to excite laughter by the boldest and most ludicrous caricature, and, provided that end was obtained, the poet seems to have cared little about the justice of the picture. It is scarcely possible to imagine the unmeasured and unsparing license of attack assumed by these comedies upon the gods, the institutions, the politicians, philosophers, poets, private citizens, and women of Athens. With this universal liberty of subject there is combined a poignancy of derision and satire, a fecundity of imagination, and a richness of poetical expression such as cannot be surpassed. Towards the end of the career of Aristophanes, however, this unrestricted license of the comedy began gradually to disappear.

The Old comedy was succeeded by the Middle Attic comedy, in which the satire was no longer directed against the influential men or rulers of the people, but was rich in ridicule of the Platonic Academy, of the newly revived sect of the Pythagoreans, and of the orators, rhetoricians, and poets of the day. In this transition from the Old to the Middle comedy, we may discern at once the great revolution that had taken place in the domestic history of Athens, when the Athenians, from a nation of politicians, became a nation of literary men; when it was no longer the opposition of political ideas, but the contest of opposing schools of philosophers and rhetoricians, which set all heads in motion. The poets of this comedy were very numerous.

The last poets of the Middle comedy were contemporaries of the writers of the New, who rose up as their rivals, and who were only distinguished from them by following the new tendency more decidedly and exclusively. Menander (342-293 B.C.) was one of the first of these poets, and he is also the most perfect of them. The Athens of his day differed from that of the time of Pericles, in the same way that an old man, weak in body but fond of life, good-humored and self-indulgent, differs from the vigorous, middle-aged man at the summit of his mental strength and bodily energy. Since there was so little in politics to interest or to employ the mind, the Athenians found an object in the occurrences of social life and the charm of dissolute enjoyment. Dramatic poetry now, for the first time, centred in love, as it has since done among all nations to whom the Greek cultivation has descended. But it certainly was not love in those nobler forms to which it has since elevated itself. Menander painted truly the degenerate world in which he lived, actuated by no mighty impulses, no noble aspirations. He was contemporary with Epicurus, and their characters had much in common; both were deficient in the inspiration of high moral ideas.

The comedy of Menander and his contemporaries completed what Euripides had begun on the tragic stage a hundred years before their time. They deprived their characters of that ideal grandeur which had been most conspicuous in the creations of Aeschylus and the earlier poets, and thus tragedy and comedy, which had started from such different beginnings, here met as at the same point. The comedies of Menander may be considered as almost the conclusion of Attic literature; he was the last original poet of Athens; those who arose at a later period were but gleaners after the rich harvest of Greek poetry had been gathered.

6. ORATORY, RHETORIC, AND HISTORY.—We may distinguish three epochs in the history of Attic prose from Pericles to Alexander the Great: first, that of Pericles and Thucydides; second, that of Lysias, Socrates, and Plato; and, third, that of Demosthenes and Aeschines. Public speaking had been common in Greece from the earliest times, but as the works of Athenian orators alone have come down to us, we may conclude that oratory was cultivated in a much higher degree at Athens than elsewhere. No speech of Pericles has been preserved in writing; only a few of his emphatic and nervous expressions were kept in remembrance; but a general impression of the grandeur of his oratory long prevailed among the Greeks, from which we may form a clear conception of his style. The sole object of the oratory of Pericles was to produce conviction; he did not aim to excite any sudden or transient burst of passion by working on the emotions of the heart; nor did he use any of those means employed by the orators of a later age to set in motion the unruly impulses of the multitude. His manner was tranquil, with hardly any change of feature; his garments were undisturbed by any oratorical gesticulations, and his voice was equable and sustained. He never condescended to flatter the people, and his dignity never stooped to merriment. Although there was more of reasoning than imagination in his speeches, he gave a vivid and impressive coloring to his language by the use of striking metaphors and comparisons, as when, at the funeral of a number of young persons who had fallen in battle, he used the beautiful figure, that "the year had lost its spring."

The cultivation of the art of oratory among the Athenians was due to a combination of the natural eloquence displayed by the Athenian statesmen, and especially by Pericles, with the rhetorical studies of the sophists, who exercised a greater influence on the culture of the Greek mind than any other class of men, the poets excepted. The sophists, as their name indicates, were persons who made knowledge their profession, and undertook to impart it to every one who was willing to place himself under their guidance; they were reproached with being the first to sell knowledge for money, for they not only demanded pay from those who came to hear their lectures, but they undertook, for a certain sum, to give young men a complete sophistical education. Pupils flocked to them in crowds, and they acquired such riches as neither art nor science had ever before earned among the Greeks. If we consider their doctrines philosophically, they amounted to a denial or renunciation of all true science. They were able to speak with equal plausibility for and against the same position; not in order to discover the truth, but to show the nothingness of truth. In the improvement of written composition, however, a high value must be set on their services. They made language the object of their study; they aimed at correctness and beauty of style, and they laid the foundation for the polished diction of Plato and Demosthenes. They taught that the sole aim of the orator is to turn the minds of his hearers into such a train as may best suit his own interest; that, consequently, rhetoric is the agent of persuasion, the art of all arts, because the rhetorician is able to speak well and convincingly on every subject, though he may have no accurate knowledge respecting it.

The Peloponnesian war, which terminated in the downfall of Athens, was succeeded by a period of exhaustion and repose. The fine arts were checked in their progress, and poetry degenerated into empty bombast. Yet at this very time prose literature began a new career, which led to its fairest development.

Lysias and Isocrates gave an entirely new form to oratory by the happy alterations which they in different ways introduced into the old prose style. Lysias (fl. 359 B.C.), in the fiftieth year of his age, began to follow the trade of writing speeches for such private individuals as could not trust their own skill in addressing a court; for this object, a plain, unartificial style was best suited, because citizens who called in the aid of the speech-writer had no knowledge of rhetoric, and thus Lysias was obliged to originate a style, which became more and more confirmed by habit. The consequence was, that for his contemporaries and for all ages he stands forth as the first and in many respects the perfect pattern of a plain style. The narrative part of the speech, for which he was particularly famous, is always natural, interesting, and lively, and often relieved by mimic touches which give it a wonderful air of reality. The proofs and confutations are distinguished by a clearness of reasoning and a boldness of argument which leave no room for doubt; in a word, the speeches are just what they ought to be in order to obtain a favorable decision, an object in which, it seems, he often succeeded. Of his many orations, thirty-five have come down to us.

Isocrates (fl. 338 B.C.) established a school for political oratory, which became the first and most flourishing in Greece. His orations were mostly destined for this school. Though neither a great statesman nor philosopher in himself, Isocrates constitutes an epoch as a rhetorician or artist of language. His influence extended far beyond the limits of his own school, and without his reconstruction of the style of Attic oratory we could have had no Demosthenes and no Cicero; through these, the school of Isocrates has extended its influence even to the oratory of our own day.

The verdict of his contemporaries, ratified by posterity, has pronounced Demosthenes (380-322 B.C.) the greatest orator that has ever lived, yet he had no natural advantages for oratory. A feeble frame and a weak voice, a shy and awkward manner, the ungraceful gesticulations of one whose limbs had never been duly exercised, and a defective articulation, would have deterred most men from even attempting to address an Athenian assembly; but the ambition and perseverance of Demosthenes enabled him to triumph over every disadvantage. He improved his bodily powers by running, his voice by speaking aloud as he walked up hill, or declaimed against the roar of the sea; he practiced graceful delivery before a looking-glass, and controlled his unruly articulation by speaking with pebbles in his mouth. His want of fluency he remedied by diligent composition, and by copying and committing to memory the works of the best authors. By these means he came forth as the acknowledged leader of the assembly, and, even by the confession of his deadliest enemies, the first orator of Greece. His harangues to the people, and his speeches on public and private causes, which have been preserved, form a collection of sixty-one orations. The most important efforts of Demosthenes, however, were the series of public speeches referring to Philip of Macedon, and known as the twelve Philippics, a name which has become a general designation for spirited invectives. The main characteristic of his eloquence consisted in the use of the common language of his age and country. He took great pains in the choice and arrangement of his words, and aimed at the utmost conciseness, making epithets, even common adjectives, do the work of a whole sentence, and thus, by his perfect delivery and action, a sentence composed of ordinary terms sometimes smote with the weight of a sledge- hammer. In his orations there is not any long or close train of reasoning, still less any profound observations or remote and ingenious allusions, but a constant succession of remarks, bearing immediately on the matter in hand, perfectly plain, and as readily admitted as easily understood. These are intermingled with the most striking appeals either to feelings which all were conscious of, and deeply agitated by, though ashamed to own, or to sentiments which every man was panting to utter and delighted to hear thundered forth,—bursts of oratory, which either overwhelmed or relieved the audience. Such characteristics constituted the principal glory of the great orator.

The most eminent of the contemporaries of Demosthenes were Isaeus (420-348 B.C.), an artificial and elaborate orator; Lycurgus (393-328 B.C.), a celebrated civil reformer of Athens; Hypereides, contemporary of Lycurgus; and, above all, Aeschines (389-314 B.C.), the great rival of Demosthenes, of whose numerous speeches only three have been preserved. At a later period we find two schools of rhetoric, the Attic, founded by Aeschines, and the Asiatic, established by Hegesias of Magnesia. The former proposed as models of oratory the great Athenian orators, the latter depended on artificial manners, and produced speeches distinguished rather by rhetorical ornaments and a rapid flow of diction than by weight and force of style.

In the historical department, Thucydides (471-391 B.C.) began an entirely new class of historical writing. While Herodotus aimed at giving a vivid picture of all that fell under the cognizance of the senses, and endeavored to represent a superior power ruling over the destinies of princes and people, the attention of Thucydides was directed to human action, as it is developed from the character and situation of the individual. His history, from its unity of action, may be considered as a historical drama, the subject being the Athenian domination over Greece, and the parties the belligerent republics. Clearness in the narrative, harmony and consistency of the details with the general history, are the characteristics of his work; and in his style he combines the concise and pregnant oratory of Pericles with the vigorous but artificial style of the rhetoricians. Demosthenes was so diligent a student of Thucydides that he copied out his history eight times.

Xenophon (445-391 B.C.) may also be classed among the great historians, his name being most favorably known from the "Anabasis," in which he describes the retreat of the ten thousand Greek mercenaries in the service of Cyrus, the Persian king, among whom he himself played a prominent part. The minuteness of detail, the picturesque simplicity of the style, and the air of reality which pervades it, have made it a favorite with every age. In his memorials of Socrates, he records the conversations of a man whom he had admired and listened to, but whom he did not understand. In the language of Xenophon we find the first approximation to the common dialect, which became afterwards the universal language of Greece. He wrote several other works, in which, however, no development of one great and pervading idea can be found; but in all of them there is a singular clearness and beauty of description.

7. SOCRATES AND THE SOCRATIC SCHOOLS.—Although Socrates (468-399 B.C.) left no writings behind him, yet the intellect of Greece was powerfully affected by the principles of his philosophy, and the greatest literary genius that ever appeared in Hellas owed most of his mental training to his early intercourse with him. It was by means of conversation, by a searching process of question and answer, that Socrates endeavored to lead his pupils to a consciousness of their own ignorance, and thus to awaken in their minds an anxiety to obtain more exact views. This method of questioning he reduced to a scientific process, and "dialectics" became a name for the art of reasoning and the science of logic. The subject-matter of this method was moral science considered with special reference to politics. To him may be justly attributed induction and general definitions, and he applied this practical logic to a common-sense estimate of the duties of man both as a moral being and as a member of a community, and thus he first treated moral philosophy according to scientific principles. No less than ten schools of philosophers claimed him as their head, though the majority of them imperfectly represented his doctrines. By his influence on Plato, and through him on Aristotle, he constituted himself the founder of the philosophy which is still recognized in the civilized world.

From the doctrine held by Socrates, that virtue was dependent on knowledge, Eucleides of Megara (fl. 398 B.C.), the founder of the Megaric school, submitted moral philosophy to dialectical reasoning and logical refinements; and from the Socratic principle of the union between virtue and happiness, Aristippus of Cyrene (fl. 396 B.C.) deduced the doctrine which became the characteristic of the Cyrenian school, affirming that pleasure was the ultimate end of life and the higher good; while Antisthenes (fl. 396 B.C.) constructed the Cynic philosophy, which placed the ideal of virtue in the absence of every need, and hence in the disregarding of every interest, wealth, honor, and enjoyment, and in the independence of any restraints of life and society. Diogenes of Sinope (fl. 300 B.C.) was one of the most prominent followers of this school. He, like his master, Antisthenes, always appeared in the most beggarly clothing, with the staff and wallet of mendicancy; and this ostentation of self-denial drew from Socrates the exclamation, that he saw the vanity of Antisthenes through the holes in his garments.

Plato (429-348 B.C.) was the only—one of the disciples of Socrates who represented the whole doctrines of his teacher. We owe to him that the ideas which Socrates awakened have been made the germ of one of the grandest systems of speculation that the world has ever seen, and that it has been conveyed to us in literary compositions which are unequaled in refinement of conception, or in vigor and gracefulness of style. At the age of nineteen he became one of the pupils and associates of Socrates, and did not leave him until that martyr of intellectual freedom drank the fatal cup of hemlock. He afterwards traveled in Asia Minor, in Egypt, in Italy, and Sicily, and made himself acquainted with all contemporary philosophy. During the latter part of his life he was engaged as a public lecturer on philosophy. His lectures were delivered in the gardens of the Academia, and they have left proof of their celebrity in the structure of language, which has derived from them a term now common to all places of instruction. Of the importance of the Socratic and Pythagorean elements in Plato's philosophy there can be no doubt; but he transmuted all he touched into his own forms of thought and language, and there was no branch of speculative literature which he had not mastered. By adopting the form of dialogue, in which all his extant works have come down to us, he was enabled to criticise the various systems of philosophy then current in Greece, and also to gratify his own dramatic genius, and his almost unrivaled power of keeping up an assumed character. The works of Plato have been divided into three classes: first, the elementary dialogues, or those which contain the germs of all that follows, of logic as the instrument of philosophy, and of ideas as its proper object; second, progressive dialogues, which treat of the distinction between philosophical and common knowledge, in their united application to the proposed and real sciences, ethics, and physics; third, the constructive dialogues, in which the practical is completely united with the speculative, with an appendix containing laws, epistles, etc.

The fundamental principle of Plato's philosophy is the belief in an eternal and self-existent cause, the origin of all things. From this divine Being emanate not only the souls of men, which are immortal, but that of the universe itself, which is supposed to be animated by a divine spirit. The material objects of our sight, and other senses, are mere fleeting emanations of the divine idea; it is only this idea itself that is really existent; the objects of sensuous perception are mere appearances, taking their forms by participation in the idea; hence it follows, that in Plato's philosophy all knowledge is innate, and acquired by the soul before birth, when it was able to contemplate real existences, and all our ideas of this world are mere reminiscences of their true and eternal patterns. The belief of Plato in the immortality of the soul naturally led him to establish a high standard of moral excellence, and, like his great teacher, he constantly inculcates temperance, justice, and purity of life. His political views are developed in the "Republic" and in the "Laws," in which the main feature of his system is the subordination, or rather the entire sacrifice of the individual to the state.

The style of Plato is in every way worthy of his position in universal literature, and modern scholars have confirmed the encomium of Aristotle, that all his dialogues exhibit extraordinary acuteness, elaborate elegance, bold originality, and curious speculation. In Plato, the powers of imagination were just as conspicuous as those of reasoning and reflection; he had all the chief characteristics of a poet, especially of a dramatic poet, and if his rank as a philosopher had been lower than it is, he would still have ranked high among dramatic writers for his life- like representations of the personages whose opinions he wished to combat or to defend.

Aristotle (384-322 B.C.) occupies a position among the leaders of human thought not inferior to that of his teacher, Plato. He was a native of Stagyra, in Macedonia, and is hence often called the Stagyrite. He early repaired to Athens, and became a pupil of Plato, who called him the soul of his school. He was afterwards invited by Philip of Macedon to undertake the literary education of Alexander, at that time thirteen years old. This charge continued about three years. He afterwards returned to Athens, where he opened his school in a gymnasium called the Lyceum, delivering his lessons as he walked to and fro, and from these saunters his scholars were called Peripatetics, or saunterers. During this period he composed most of his extant works. Alexander placed at his disposal a large sum for his collections in natural history, and employed some thousands of men in procuring specimens for his museum. After the death of Alexander, he was accused of blasphemy to the gods, and, warned by the fate of Socrates, he withdrew from Athens to Chalcis, where he afterwards died.

In looking at the mere catalogue of the works of Aristotle, we are struck with his vast range of knowledge. He aimed at nothing less than the completion of a general encyclopedia of philosophy. He was the author of the first scientific cultivation of each science, and there was hardly any quality distinguishing a philosopher as such, which he did not possess in an eminent degree. Of all the philosophical systems of antiquity, that of Aristotle was the best adapted to the physical wants of mankind. His works consisted of treatises on natural, moral, and political philosophy, history, rhetoric, criticism,—indeed, there was scarcely a branch of knowledge which his vast and comprehensive genius did not embrace. His greatest claim to our admiration is as a logician. He perfected and brought into form those elements of the dialectic art which had been struck out by Socrates and Plato, and wrought them, by his additions, into so complete a system, that he may be regarded as, at once, the founder and perfecter of logic as an art, which has since, even down to our own days, been but very little improved. The style of Aristotle has nothing to attract those who prefer the embellishments of a work to its subject- matter and the scientific results which it presents.

PERIOD THIRD.

EPOCH OF THE DECLINE OF GREEK LITERATURE, 322 B.C.-1453 A.D.

1. ORIGIN OF THE ALEXANDRIAN LITERATURE.—As the literary predominance of Athens was due mainly to the political importance of Attica, the downfall of Athenian independence brought with it a deterioration, and ultimately an extinction of that intellectual centralization which for more than a century had fostered and developed the highest efforts of the genius and culture of the Greeks. While the living literature of Greece was thus dying away, the conquests of Alexander prepared a new home for the muses on the coast of that wonderful country, to which all the nations of antiquity had owed a part of their science and religious belief. In Egypt, as in other regions, Alexander gave directions for the foundation of a city to be called after his own name, which became the magnificent metropolis of the Hellenic world. This capital was the residence of a family who attracted to their court all the living representatives of the literature of Greece, and stored up in their enormous library all the best works of the classical period. It was chiefly during the reigns of the first three Ptolemies that Alexandria was made the new home of Greek literature. Ptolemy Soter (306-285 B.C.) laid the foundations of the library, and instituted the museum, or temple of the muses, where the literary men of the age were maintained by endowments. This encouragement of literature was continued by Ptolemy Philadelphus (285-247 B.C.). He had the celebrated Callimachus for his librarian, who bought up not only the whole of Aristotle's great collection of works, but transferred the native annals of Egypt and Judea to the domain of Greek literature by employing the priest Manetho to translate the hieroglyphics of his own temple- archives into the language of the court, and by procuring from the Sanhedrim of Jerusalem the first part of that celebrated version of the Hebrew sacred books, which was afterwards completed and known as the Septuagint, or version of the Seventy. Ptolemy Euergetes (247-222 B.C.) increased the library by depriving the Athenians of their authentic editions of the great dramatists. In the course of time the library founded at Pergamos was transferred to Egypt, and thus we are indebted to the Ptolemies for preserving to our times all the best specimens of Greek literature which have come down to us. This encouragement of letters, however, called forth no great original genius; but a few eminent men of science, many second-rate and artificial poets, and a host of grammarians and literary pedants.

2. THE ALEXANDRIAN POETS.—Among the poets of the period, Philetas, Callimachus, Lycophron, Apollonius, and the writers of idyls, Theocritus, Bion, and Moschus are the most eminent. The founder of a school of poetry at Alexandria, and the model for imitation with the Roman writers of elegiac poetry, was Philetas of Cos (fl. 260 B. C), whose extreme emaciation of person exposed him to the imputation of wearing lead in the soles of his shoes, lest he should be blown away. He was chiefly celebrated as an elegiac poet, in whom ingenious, elegant, and harmonious versification took the place of higher poetry. Callimachus (fl. 260 B.C.) was the type of an Alexandrian man of letters, distinguished by skill rather than genius, the most finished specimen of what might be effected by talent, learning, and ambition, backed by the patronage of a court. He was a living representative of the great library over which he presided; he was not only a writer of all kinds of poetry, but a critic, grammarian, historian, and geographer. Of his writings, a few poems only are extant. Next to Callimachus, as a representative of the learned poetry of Alexandria, stands the dramatist Lycophron (fl. 250 B.C.). All his works are lost, with the exception of the oracular poem called the "Alexandra," or "'Cassandra," on the merits of which very opposite opinions are entertained. Apollonius, known as the Rhodian (fl. 240 B.C.), was a native of Alexandria, and a pupil of Callimachus, through whose influence he was driven from his native city, when he established himself in the island of Rhodes, where he was so honored and distinguished that he took the name of the Rhodian. On the death of Callimachus, he was appointed to succeed him as librarian at Alexandria. His reputation depends on his epic poem, the "Argonautic Expedition."

Of all the writers of the Alexandrian period, the bucolic poets have enjoyed the most popularity. Their pastoral poems were called Idyls, from their pictorial and descriptive character, that is, little pictures of common life, a name for which the later writers have sometimes substituted the term Eclogues, that is, selections, which is applicable to any short poem, whether complete and original, or appearing as an extract. The name of Idyls, however, was afterwards applicable to pastoral poems. Theocritus (fl. 272 B.C.) gives his name to the most important of these extant bucolics. He had an original genius for poetry of the highest kind; the absence of the usual affectation of the Alexandrian school, constant appeals to nature, a fine perception of character, and a keen sense of both the beautiful and the ludicrous, indicate the high order of his literary talent, and account for his universal and undiminished popularity. The two other bucolic poets of the Alexandrian school were Bion (fl. 275 B.C.), born near Smyrna, and his pupil Moschus of Syracuse (fl. 273 B.C.). It appears, from an elegy by Moschus, that Bion migrated from Asia Minor to Sicily, where he was poisoned. He wrote harmonious verses with a good deal of pathos and tenderness, but he is as inferior to Theocritus as he is superior to Moschus, whose artificial style characterizes him rather as a learned versifier than a true poet.

3. PROSE WRITERS OF ALEXANDRIA.—Many of the most eminent poets were also prose writers, and they exhibited their versatility by writing on almost every subject of literary interest. The progress of prose writing manifested itself from grammar and criticism to the more elaborate and learned treatment of history and chronology, and to observations and speculations in pure and mixed mathematics. Demetrius the Phalerian (fl. 295 B.C.), Zenodotus (fl. 279 B.C.), Aristophanes (fl. 200 B.C.), and Aristarchus (fl. 156 B.C.), the three last of whom were successively intrusted with the management of the Library, were the representatives of the Alexandrian school of grammar and criticism. They devoted themselves chiefly to the revision of the text of Homer, which was finally established by Aristarchus.

In the historical department may be mentioned Ptolemy Soter, who wrote the history of the wars of Alexander the Great; Apollodorus (fl. 200 B.C.), whose "Bibliotheca" contains a general sketch of the mystic legends of the Greeks; Eratosthenes (fl. 235 B.C.), the founder of scientific chronology in Greek history; Manetho (fl. 280 B.C.), who introduced the Greeks to a knowledge of the Egyptian religion and annals; and Berosus of Babylon, his contemporary, whose work, fragments of which were preserved by Josephus, was known as the "Babylonian Annals." While the Greeks of Alexandria thus gained a knowledge of the religious books of the nations conquered by Alexander, the same curiosity, combined with the necessities of the Jews of Alexandria, gave birth to the translation of the Bible into Greek, known under the name of Septuagint, which has exercised a more lasting influence on the civilized world than that of any book that has ever appeared in a new tongue. The beginning of that translation was probably made in the reigns of the first Ptolemies (320-249 B.C.), while the remainder was completed at a later period.

The wonderful advance, which took place in pure and applied mathematics, is chiefly due to the learned men who settled in Alexandria; the greatest mathematicians and the most eminent founders of scientific geography were all either immediately or indirectly connected with the school of Alexandria. Euclid (fl. 300 B.C.) founded a famous school of geometry in that city, in the reign of the first Ptolemy. Almost the only incident of his life which is known to us is a conversation between him and that king, who, having asked if there was no easier method of learning the science, is said to have been told by Euclid, that "there was no royal path to geometry." His most famous work is his "Elements of Pure Mathematics," at the present time a manual of instruction and the foundation of all geometrical treatises. Archimedes (287-212 B.C.) was a native of Syracuse, in Sicily, but he traveled to Egypt at an early age, and studied mathematics there in the school of Euclid. He not only distinguished himself as a pure mathematician and astronomer, and as the founder of the theory of statics, but he discovered the law of specific gravity, and constructed some of the most useful machines in the mechanic arts, such as the pulley and the hydraulic screw. His works are written in the Doric dialect. Apollonius of Perga (221-204 B.C.) distinguished himself in the mathematical department by his work on "Conic Elements." Eratosthenes was not only prominent in the science of chronology, but was also the founder of astronomical geography, and the author of many valuable works in various branches of philosophy. Hipparchus (fl. 150 B.C.) is considered the founder of the science of exact astronomy, from his great work, the "Catalogue of the Fixed Stars," his discovery of the precession of the equinoxes, and many other valuable astronomical observations and calculations.

4. ALEXANDRIAN PHILOSOPHY.—Athens, which had been the centre of Greek literature during the second or classical period of its development, had now, in all respects but one, resigned the intellectual leadership to the city of the Ptolemies. While Alexandria was producing a series of learned poets, scholars, and discoverers in science, Athenian literature was mainly represented by the establishment of certain forms of mental and moral philosophy founded on the various Socratic schools. Two schools of philosophy were established at Athens at the time of the death of Aristotle: that of the Academy, in which he himself had studied, and that of the Lyceum, which he had founded, as the seat of his peripatetic system. But the older schools soon reappeared under new names: the Megarics, with an infusion of the doctrines of Democritus, revived in the skeptic philosophy of Pyrrhon (375-285 B.C.). Epicurus (342-370 B.C.) founded the school to which he gave his name, by a similar combination of Democritean philosophy with the doctrines of the Cyrenaics; the Cynics were developed into Stoics by Zeno (341-260 B.C.), who borrowed much from the Megaric school and from the Old Academy; and, finally, the Middle and New Academy arose from a combination of doctrines which were peculiar to many of these sects.

Though these different schools, which flourished at Athens, had early representatives in Alexandria, their different doctrines, coming in contact with the ancient religious systems of the Persians, Jews, and Hindus, underwent essential modifications, and gave birth to a kind of electicism, which became later an important element in the development of Christian history. The rationalism of the Platonic school and the supernaturalism of the Jewish Scriptures were chiefly mingled together, and from this amalgamation sprang the system of Neo-Platonism. When the early teachers of Christianity at Alexandria strove to show the harmony of the Gospel with the great principles of the Greco-Jewish philosophy, it underwent new modifications, and the Neo-Platonic school, which sprang up in Alexandria three centuries B.C., was completed in the first and second centuries of the Christian era. The common characteristic of the Neo- Platonists was a tendency to mysticism. Some of them believed that they were the subjects of divine inspiration and illumination; able to look into the future and to work miracles. Philo-Judaeus (fl. 20 B.C.), Numenius (fl. 150 A.D.), Ammonius Saccas (fl. 200 A.D.), Plotinus (fl, 260 A.D.), Porphyry (fl. 260 A.D.), and several fathers of the Greek Church are among the principal disciples of this school.

5. ANTI-NEO-PLATONIC TENDENCIES.—While the Neo-Platonism of Alexandria introduced into Greek philosophy Oriental ideas and tendencies, other positive and practical doctrines also prevailed, founded on common sense and conscience. First among these were the tenets of the Stoics, who owed their system mainly and immediately to the teaching of Epictetus (fl. 60 A.D.), who opposed the Oriental enthusiasm of the Neo-Platonists. He was originally a slave, and became a prominent teacher of philosophy in Rome, in the reign of Domitian. He left nothing in writing, and we are indebted for a knowledge of his doctrines to Arrian, who compiled his lectures or philosophical dissertations in eight books, of which only four are preserved, and the "Manual of Epictetus," a valuable compendium of the doctrines of the Stoics. The Emperor Marcus Aurelius not only lectured at Rome on the principles of Epictetus, but he left us his private meditations, composed in the midst of a camp, and exhibiting the serenity of a mind which had made itself independent of outward actions and warring passions within. Lucian (fl. 150 A.D.) may be compared to Voltaire, whom he equaled in his powers both of rhetoric and ridicule, and surpassed in his more conscientious and courageous love of truth. Though the results of his efforts against heathenism were merely negative, he prepared the way for Christianity by giving the death-blow to declining idolatry. Lucian, as a man of letters, is on many accounts interesting, and in reference to his own age and to the literature of Greece he is entitled to an important position both with regard to the religious and philosophical results of his works, and to the introduction of a purer Greek style, which he taught and exemplified. Longinus (fl. 230 A.D.), both as an opponent of Neo- Platonism and as a sound and sensible critic, occupies a position similar to that of Lucian, in the declining period of Greek literary history. During a visit to the East, he became known to Zenobia, queen of Palmyra, who adopted the celebrated scholar as her instructor in the language and literature of Greece, her adviser and chief minister; and when Palmyra fell before the Roman power he was put to death by the Roman emperor. To his treatise on "The Sublime" he is chiefly indebted for his fame. When France, in the reign of Louis XIV., gave a tone to the literary judgments of Europe, this work was translated by Boileau, and received by the wits of Paris as an established manual in all that related to the sublime and beautiful.

6. GREEK LITERATURE IN ROME.—After the subjugation of Greece by the Romans, Greek authors wrote in their own language and published their works in Rome; illustrious Romans chose the idiom of Plato as the best medium for the expression of their own thoughts; dramatic poets gained a reputation by imitating the tragedies and comedies of Athens, and every versifier felt compelled by fashion to revive the metres of ancient Greece. This naturalization of Greek literature at Rome was due to the rudeness and poverty of the national literature of Italy, to the influence exerted by the Greek colonies, and to the political subjugation of Greece. In Rome, Greek libraries were established by the Emperor Augustus and his successors; and the knowledge of the Greek language was considered a necessary accomplishment. Cicero made his countrymen acquainted with the philosophical schools of Athens, and Rome became more and more the rival of Alexandria, both as a receptacle for the best Greek writings and as a seat of learning, where Greek authors found appreciation and patronage. The Greek poets, who were fostered and encouraged at Rome, were chiefly writers of epigrams, and their poems are preserved in the collections called "Anthologies." The growing demand for forensic eloquence naturally led the Roman orators to find their examples in those of Athens, and to the study of rhetoric in the Grecian writers.

Among the writers on rhetoric whose works seem to have produced the, greatest effect at the beginning of the Roman period, we mention Dionysius of Halicarnassus (fl. 7 B.C.). As a critic, he occupies the first rank among the ancients. Besides his rhetorical treatises, he wrote a work on "Roman Archaeology," the object of which was to show that the Romans were not, after all, barbarians, as was generally supposed, but a pure Greek race, whose institutions, religion, and manners were traceable to an identity with those of the noblest Hellenes.

What Dionysius endeavored to do for the gratification of his own countrymen, by giving them a Greek version of Roman history, an accomplished Jew, who lived about a century later, attempted, from the opposite point of view, for his own fallen race, in a work which was a direct imitation of that just described. Flavius Josephus (fl. 60 A.D.) wrote the "Jewish Archaeology" in order to show the Roman conquerors of Jerusalem that the Jews did not deserve the contempt with which they were universally regarded. His "History of the Jewish Wars" is an able and valuable work.

At an earlier period, Polybius (204-122 B.C.) wrote to explain to the Greeks how the power of the Romans had established itself in Greece. His great work was a universal history, but of the forty books of which it consisted only five have been preserved; perhaps no historical work has ever been written with such definiteness of purpose or unity of plan, or with such self-consciousness on the part of the writer. The object to which he directs attention is the manner in which fortune or providence uses the ability and energy of man as instruments in carrying out what is predetermined, and specially the exemplification of these principles in the wonderful growth of the Roman power during the fifty-three years of which he treats. Taking his history as a whole, it is hardly possible to speak in too high terms of it, though the style has many blemishes, such as endless digressions, wearisome repetition of his own principles and colloquial vulgarisms.

Diodorus, a native of Sicily, generally known as the Sicilian (Siculus), flourished in the time of the first two Caesars. In his great work, the "Historical Library," it was his object to write a history of the world down to the commencement of Caesar's Gallic wars. He is content to give a bare recital of the facts, which crowded upon him and left him no time to be diffuse or ornamental.

The geography of Strabo (fl. 10 A.D.), which has made his name familiar to modern scholars, has come down to us very nearly complete. Its merits are literary rather than scientific. His object was to give an instructive and readable account of the known world, from the point of view taken by a Greek man of letters. His style is simple, unadorned, and unaffected.

Plutarch (40-120 A.D.) may be classed among the philosophers as well as among the historians. Though he has left many essays and works on different subjects, he is best known as a biographer. His lives of celebrated Greeks and Romans have made his name familiar to the readers of every country. The universal popularity of his biographies is due to the fact that they are dramatic pictures, in which each personage is represented as acting according to his leading characteristics.

Pausanias (fl. 184 A.D.), a professed describer of countries and of their antiquities and works of art, in his "Gazetteer of Hellas" has left the best repertory of information for the topography, local history, religious observances, architecture, and sculpture of the different states of Greece.

Among the scientific men of this period we find Ptolemy, whose name for more than a thousand years was coextensive with the sciences of astronomy and geography. He was a native of Alexandria, and flourished about the latter part of the second century. The best known of his works is his "Great Construction of Astronomy." He was the first to indicate the true shape of Spain, Gaul, and Ireland; as a writer, he deserves to be held in high estimation. Galen (fl. 130 A.D.) was a writer on philosophy and medicine, with whom few could vie in productiveness. It was his object to combine philosophy with medical science, and his works for fifteen centuries were received as oracular authorities throughout the civilized world.

7. CONTINUED DECLINE OF GREEK LITERATURE.—The adoption of the Christian religion by Constantine, and his establishment of the seat of government in his new city of Constantinople, concurred in causing the rapid decline of Greek literature in the fourth and following centuries. Christianity, no longer the object of persecution, became the dominant religion of the state, and the profession of its tenets was the shortest road to influence and honor. The old literature, with its mythological allusions, became less and less fashionable, and the Greek poets, philosophers, and orators of the better periods gradually lost their attractions. Greek, the official language of Constantinople, was spoken there, with different degrees of corruption, by Syrians, Bulgarians, and Goths; and thus, as Christianity undermined the old classical literature, the political condition of the capital deteriorated the language itself. Other causes accelerated the decadence of Greek learning: the great library at Alexandria, and the school which had been established in connection with it, were destroyed at the end of the fourth century by the edict of Theodosius, and the conquest of Egypt by the Saracens in the seventh century only completed the work of destruction. Justinian closed the schools of Athens, and prohibited the teaching of philosophy; the Arabs overthrew those established elsewhere, and there remained only the institutions of Constantinople. But long before the establishment of the Turks on the ruins of the Byzantine empire, Greek literature had ceased to claim any original or independent existence. The opposition between the literary spirit of heathen Greece and the Christian scholarship of the time of Constantine and his immediate successors, which grew up very gradually, was the result of the Oriental superstitions which distorted Christianity and disturbed the old philosophy. The abortive attempt of the Emperor Julian to create a reaction in favor of heathenism was the cause of the open antagonism between the classical and Christian forms of literature. The church, however, was soon enabled not only to dictate its own rules of literary criticism, but to destroy the writings of its most formidable antagonists. The last rays of heathen cultivation in Italy were extinguished in the gloomy dungeon of Boethius, and the period so justly designated as the Dark Ages began both in eastern and western Europe.

8. LAST ECHOES OF THE OLD LITERATURE—From the time when Christianity placed itself in opposition to the old culture of heathen Greece and Rome, down to the period of the revival of classical literature in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, the classical spirit was nearly extinct both in eastern and western Europe. In Italy, the triumph of barbarism was more sudden and complete. In the eastern empire there was a certain literary activity, and in the department of history, Byzantine literature was conspicuously prolific.

The imperial family of the Comneni, in the eleventh and twelfth centuries, and the Palaeologi, who reigned from the thirteenth century to the end of the eastern empire, endeavored to revive the taste for literature and learning. But the echoes of the past became fainter and fainter, and when Constantinople fell into the hands of the Turks, 1453 A.D., the wandering Greeks who found their way into Italy could only serve as language-masters to a race of scholars, who thus recovered the learning that had ceased to exist among the Greeks themselves.

The last manifestations of the old classical learning by the Alexandrian school, which had done so much in the second and first centuries before our era, may he divided into three classes. In the first are placed the mathematical and geographical studies, which had been brought to such perfection by Euclid, his successors, and after them by Ptolemy. In the second class we have the substitution of prose romances for the bucolic and erotic poetry of the Alexandrian and Sicilian writers. In the third class the revival, by Nonnus and his followers, of a learned epos, of much the same kind as the poems of Callimachus. Among the representatives of the mathematical school of Alexandria was Theon, whose celebrity is obscured by that of his daughter Hypatia (fl. 415 A.D.), whose sex, youth, beauty, and cruel fate have made her a most interesting martyr of philosophy. She presided in the public school at Alexandria, where she taught mathematics and the philosophy of Ammonius and Plotinus. Her influence over the educated classes of that city excited the jealousy of the archbishop. She was given up to the violence of a superstitious and brutal mob, attacked as she was passing through the streets in her chariot, torn in pieces, and her mutilated body thrown to the flames.

When rhetorical prose superseded composition in verse, the greater facility of style naturally led to more detailed narratives, and the sophist who would have been a poet in the time of Callimachus, became a writer of prose romances in the final period of Greek literature. The first ascertained beginning of this style of light reading, which occupies so large a space in the catalogues of modern libraries, was in the time of the Emperor Trajan, when a Syrian or Babylonian freedman, named Iamblichus, published a love story called the "Babylonian Adventures." Among his successors is Longus, of whose work, "The Lesbian Adventure," it is sufficient to say, that it was the model of the "Diana" of Montemayor, the "Aminta" of Tasso, the "Pastor Fido" of Guarini, and the "Gentle Shepherd" of Allan Ramsay.

While the sophists were amusing themselves by clothing erotic and bucolic subjects in rhetorical prose, an Egyptian boldly revived the epos which had been cultivated at Alexandria in the earliest days of the Museum. Nonnus probably flourished at the commencement of the fifth century A.D. His epic poem, which, in accordance with the terminology of the age, is called "Dionysian Adventures," is an enormous farrago of learning on the well-worked subject of Bacchus. The most interesting of the epic productions of the school of Nonnus is the story of "Hero and Leander," in 340 verses, which bears the name of Musaeus. For grace of diction, metrical elegance, and simple pathos, this little canto stands far before the other poems of the same age. The Hero and Leander of Musaeus is the dying swan-note of Greek poetry, the last distinct note of the old music of Hellas.

In the Byzantine literature, there are works which claim no originality, but have a higher value than their contemporaries, because they give extracts or fragments of the lost writings of the best days of Greece. Next in value follow the lexicographers, the grammarians, and commentators. The most voluminous department, however, of Byzantine literature, was that of the historians, annalists, chroniclers, biographers, and antiquarians, whose works form a continuous series of Byzantine annals from the time of Constantine the Great to the taking of the capital by the Turks. This literature was also enlivened by several poets, and enriched by some writers on natural history and medicine.

9. THE NEW TESTAMENT AND THE GREEK FATHERS.—The history of Greek literature would be imperfect without some allusion to a class of writings not usually included in the range of classical studies. The first of these works, the Septuagint version of the Old Testament, before mentioned, and the Greek Apocrypha, may properly be termed Hebrew-Grecian. Their spirit is wholly at variance with that of pagan literature, and it cannot be doubted that they exerted great influence when made known to the pagans of Alexandria. Many of the books termed the Apocrypha were originally written in Greek, and mostly before the Christian era. Many of them contain authentic narratives, and are valuable as illustrating the circumstances of the age to which they refer. The other class of writings alluded to comprehends the works of the Christian authors. As the influence of Christianity became more diffused during the first and second centuries, its regenerating power became visible. After the time of Christ, there appeared, in both the Greek and Latin tongues, works wholly different in their spirit and character from all that is found in pagan literature. The collection of sacred writings contained in the New Testament and the works of the early fathers constitute a distinct and interesting feature in the literature of the age in which they appeared. The writings of the New Testament, considered simply in their literary aspect, are distinguished by a simplicity, earnestness, naturalness, and beauty that find no parallel in the literature of the world. But the consideration must not be overlooked, that they were the work of those men who wrote as they were moved of the Holy Ghost, that they contain the life and the teachings of the great Founder of our faith, and that they come to us invested with divine authority. Their influence upon the ages which have succeeded them is incalculable, and it is still widening as the knowledge of Christianity increases. The composition of the New Testament is historical, epistolary, and prophetic. The first five books, or the historical division, contain an account of the life and death of our Saviour, and some account of the first movements of the Apostles. The epistolary division consists of letters addressed by the Apostles to the different churches or to individuals. The last, the book of Revelation, the only part that is considered prophetic, differs from the others in its use of that symbolical language which had been common to the Hebrew prophets, in the sublimity and majesty of its imagery, and in its prediction of the final and universal triumph of Christianity.

The writings of the Apostolic Fathers, or the immediate successors of the Apostles, were held in high estimation by the primitive Christians. Of those who wrote under this denomination, the venerable Polycarp and Ignatius, after they had both attained the age of eighty years, sealed their faith in the blood of martyrdom. The former was burned at the stake in Smyrna, and the latter devoured by lions in the amphitheatre of Rome, In the second and third centuries, Christianity numbered among its advocates many distinguished scholars and philosophers, particularly among the Greeks. Their productions may be classed under the heads of biblical, controversial, doctrinal, historical, and homiletical. Among the most distinguished of the Greek fathers were Justin Martyr (fl. 89 A.D.), an eminent Christian philosopher and speculative thinker; Clement of Alexandria (fl. 190 A.D.), who has left us a collection of works, which, for learning and literary talent, stand unrivaled among the writings of the early Christian fathers; Origen (184-253 A.D.), who, in his numerous works, attempted to reconcile philosophy with Christianity; Eusebius (fl. 325 A.D.), whose ecclesiastical history is ranked among the most valuable remains of Christian antiquity; Athanasius, famous for his controversy with Arius; Gregory Nazianzen (329-390 A.D.), distinguished for his rare union of eloquence and piety, a great orator and theologian; Basil (329- 379 A.D.) whose works, mostly of a purely theological character, exhibit occasionally decided proofs of his strong feeling for the beauties of nature; and John Chrysostom (347-407 A.D.), the founder of the art of preaching, whose extant homilies breathe a spirit of sincere earnestness and of true genius. To these may be added Nemesius (fl. 400 A.D.), whose work on the "Nature of Man" is distinguished by the purity of its style and by the traces of a careful study of classical authors, and Synesius (378-430 A.D.), who maintained the parallel importance of pagan and Christian literature, and who has always been held in high estimation for his epistles, hymns, and dramas.

MODERN LITERATURE.

At the time of the fall of Constantinople, ancient Greek was still the vehicle of literature, and as such it has been preserved to our day. After the political changes of the present century, however, it was felt by the best Greek writers that the old forms were no longer fitted to express modern ideas, and hence it has become transfused with those better adapted to the clear and rapid expression of modern literature, though at the same time the body and substance, as well as the grammar, of the language have been retained.

From an early age, along with the literary language of Greece, there existed a conversational language, which varied in different localities, and out of this grew the Modern Greek or Neo-Hellenic.

After the fall of Constantinople, the Greeks were prominent in spreading a knowledge of their language through Europe, and but few works of importance were produced. During the eighteenth century a revival of enthusiasm for education and literature took place, and a period of great literary activity has since followed. Perhaps no nation now produces so much literature in proportion to its numbers, although the number of readers is small and there are great difficulties in publishing. In these circumstances, the Ralli and other distinguished Greeks have nobly come forward and published books at their own expense, and great activity prevails in every department of letters.

Since the establishment of Greek independence, three writers have secured for themselves a permanent place in literature as men of true genius: the two brothers Panagiotis and Alexander Santsos, and Alexander Rangabé. The brothers Santsos threw all their energies into the war for independence and sang of its glories. Panagiotis (d. 1868) was always lyrical, and Alexander (d. 1863) always satirical. Both were highly ideal in their conceptions, and both had a rich command of musical language. The other great poet of regenerated Greece is Alexander Rangabé, whose works range through almost every department of literature, though it is on his poems that his claim to remembrance will specially rest. They are distinguished by fine poetic feeling, rare command of exquisite and harmonious language, and singular beauty and purity of thought. His poetical works consist of hymns, odes, songs, narrative poems, ballads, tragedies, comedies, and translations. There is no department in prose literature which is not well represented in modern Greek, and many women have particularly distinguished themselves.

ROMAN LITERATURE.

INTRODUCTION.—1. Roman Literature and its Divisions.—2. The Language;
Ethnographical Elements of the Latin Language; the Umbrian; Oscan;
Etruscan; the Old Roman Tongue; Saturnian Verse; Peculiarities of the
Latin Language.—3. The Roman Religion.

PERIOD FIRST.—1. Early Literature of the Romans; the Fescennine Songs; the Fabulae Atellanae.—2. Early Latin Poets; Livius Andronicus, Naevius, and Ennius.—3. Roman Comedy.—4. Comic Poets; Plautus, Terence, and Statius.—5. Roman Tragedy.—6. Tragic Poets; Pacuvius and Attius.—7. Satire; Lucilius.—8. History and Oratory; Fabius Pictor; Cencius Alimentus; Cato; Varro; M. Antonius; Crassus; Hortensius.—9. Roman Jurisprudence.—10. Grammarians.

PERIOD SECOND.—1. Development of the Roman Literature.—2. Mimes, Mimographers, Pantomime; Laberius and P. Lyrus.—3. Epic Poetry; Virgil; The Aeneid.—4. Didactic Poetry; the Bucolics; the Georgics; Lucretius.— 5. Lyric Poetry; Catullus; Horace.—6. Elegy; Tibullus; Propertius; Ovid. —7. Oratory and Philosophy; Cicero.—8. History; J. Caesar; Sallust; Livy.—9. Other Prose Writers.

PERIOD THIRD.—1. Decline of Roman Literature.—2. Fable; Phaedrus.—3.
Satire and Epigram; Persius, Juvenal, Martial.—4. Dramatic Literature;
the Tragedies of Seneca.—5. Epic Poetry; Lucan; Silius Italicus; Valerius
Flaccus; P. Statius.—6. History; Paterculus; Tacitus; Suetonius; Q.
Curtius; Valerius Maximus.—7. Rhetoric and Eloquence; Quintilian; Pliny
the Younger.—8. Philosophy and Science; Seneca; Pliny the Elder; Celsus;
P. Mela; Columella; Frontinus.—9. Roman Literature from Hadrian to
Theodoric; Claudian; Eutropius; A. Marcellinus; S. Sulpicius; Gellius;
Macrobius; L. Apuleius; Boethius; the Latin Fathers.—10. Roman
Jurisprudence.

INTRODUCTION.

1. ROMAN LITERATURE AND ITS DIVISIONS.—Inferior to Greece in the genius of its inhabitants, and, perhaps, in the intrinsic greatness of the events of which it was the theatre, unquestionably inferior in the fruits of intellectual activity, Italy holds the second place in the classic literature of antiquity. Etruria could boast of arts, legislation, scientific knowledge, a fanciful mythology, and a form of dramatic spectacle, before the foundations of Rome were laid. But, like the ancient Egyptians, the Etrurians made no progress in composition. Verses of an irregular structure and rude in sense and harmony appear to have formed the highest limit of their literary achievements. Nor did even the opulent and luxurious Greeks of Southern Italy, while they retained their independence, contribute much to the glory of letters in the West. It was only in their fall that they did good service to the cause, when they redeemed the disgrace of their political humiliation by the honor of communicating the first impulse towards intellectual refinement to the bosoms of their conquerors. When, in the process of time, Sicily, Macedonia, and Achaia had become Roman provinces, some acquaintance with the language of their new subjects proved to be a matter almost of necessity to the victorious people; but the first impression made at Rome by the productions of the Grecian Muse, and the first efforts to create a similar literature, must be traced to the conquest of Tarentum (272 B.C.). From that memorable period, the versatile talents which distinguished the Greeks in every stage of national decline began to exercise a powerful influence on the Roman mind, which was particularly felt in the departments of education and amusement. The instruction of the Roman youth was committed to the skill and learning of Greek slaves; the spirit of the Greek drama was transferred into the Latin tongue, and, somewhat later, Roman genius and ambition devoted their united energies to the study of Greek rhetoric, which long continued to be the guide and model of those schools, in whose exercises the abilities of Cicero himself were trained. Prejudice and patriotism were powerless to resist this flood of foreign innovation; and for more than a century after the Tarentine war, legislative influence strove in vain to counteract the predominance of Greek philosophy and eloquence. But this imitative tendency was tempered by the pride of Roman citizenship. That sentiment breaks out, not merely in the works of great statesmen and warriors, but quite as strikingly in the productions of those in whom the literary character was all in all. It is as prominent in Virgil and Horace as in Cicero and Caesar; and if the language of Rome, in other respects so inferior to that of Greece, has any advantage over the sister tongue, it lies in that accent of dignity and command which seems inherent in its tones. The austerity of power is not shaded down by those graceful softenings so agreeable to the disposition of the most polished Grecian communities. In the Latin forms and syntax we are everywhere conscious of a certain energetic majesty and forcible compression. We hear, as it were, the voice of one who claims to be respected, and resolves to be obeyed.

The Roman classical literature may be divided into three periods. The first embraces its rise and progress, oral and traditional compositions, the rude elements of the drama, the introduction of Greek literature, and the construction and perfection of comedy. To this period the first five centuries of the republic may be considered as introductory, for Rome had, properly speaking, no literature until the conclusion of the first Punic war (241 B.C.), and the first period, commencing at that time, extends through 160 years—that is, to the first appearance of Cicero in public life, 74 B.C.

The second period ends with the death of Augustus, 14 A.D. It comprehends the age of which Cicero is the representative as the most accomplished orator, philosopher, and prose-writer of his time, as well as that of Augustus, which is commonly called the Golden Age of Latin poetry.

The third and last period terminates with the death of Theodoric, 526 A.D. Notwithstanding the numerous excellences which distinguished the literature of this time, its decline had evidently commenced, and, as the age of Augustus has been distinguished by the epithet "golden," the succeeding period, to the death of Hadrian, 138 A.D., on account of its comparative inferiority, has been designated "the Silver Age." From this time to the close of the reign of Theodoric, only a few distinguished names are to be found.

2. THE LANGUAGE.—The origin of the Latin language is necessarily connected with that of the Romans themselves. In the most distant ages to which tradition extends, Italy appears to have been inhabited by three stocks or tribes of the great Indo-European family. One of these is commonly known by the name of Oscans; another consisted of two branches, the Sabelians or Sabines, and the Umbrians; the third was called Sikeli, sometimes Vituli or Itali.

The original settlements of the Umbrians extended over the district bounded on one side by the Tiber, and on the other by the Po. All the country to the south was in possession of the Oscans, with the exception of Latium, which was inhabited by the Sikeli. But, in process of time, the Oscans, pressed upon by the Sabines, invaded the abodes of this peaceful and rural people, some of whom submitted, and amalgamated with their conquerors; the rest were driven across the narrow sea into Sicily, and gave their name to the island.

These tribes were not left in undisturbed possession of their rich inheritance. More than 1000 B.C. there arrived in the northern part of Italy the Pelasgians (or dark Asiatics), an enterprising race, famed for their warlike spirit and their skill in the arts of peace, who became the civilizers of Italy. They were far advanced in the arts of civilization and refinement, and in the science of politics and social life. They enriched their newly acquired country with commerce, and filled it with strongly fortified and populous cities, and their dominion rapidly spread over the whole peninsula. Entering the territory of the Umbrians, they drove them into the mountainous districts, or compelled them to live among them as a subject people, while they possessed themselves of the rich and fertile plains. The headquarters of the invaders was Etruria, and that portion of them who settled there were known as Etrurians. Marching southward, they vanquished the Oscans and occupied the plains of Latium. They did not, however, remain long at peace in the districts which they had conquered. The old inhabitants returned from the neighboring highlands to which they had been driven, and subjugated the northern part of Latium, and established a federal anion between the towns of the north, of which Alba was the capital, while of the southern confederacy the chief city was Lavinium.

At a later period, a Latin tribe, belonging to the Alban federation, established itself on the Mount Palatine, and founded Rome, while a Sabine community occupied the neighboring heights of the Quirinal. Mutual jealousy of race kept them, for some time, separate from each other; but at length the two communities became one people, called the Romans. These were, at an early period, subjected to Etruscan rule, and when the Etruscan dynasty passed away, its influence still remained, and permanently affected the Roman language.

The Etruscan tongue being a compound of Pelasgian and Umbrian, the language of Latium may be considered as the result of those two elements combined with the Oscan, and brought together by the mingling of those different tribes. These elements, which entered into the formation of the Latin, may be classified under two heads: the one which has, the other which has not a resemblance to the Greek. All Latin words which resemble the Greek are Pelasgian, and all which do not are Etruscan, Oscan, or Umbrian. From the first of these classes must be excepted those words which are directly derived from the Greek, the origin of which dates partly from the time when Rome began to have intercourse with the Greek colonies of Magna Graecia, partly after the Greeks exercised a direct influence on Roman literature.

Of the ancient languages of Italy, which concurred in the formation of the Latin, little is known. The Eugubine Tables are the only extant fragments of the Umbrian language. These were found in the neighborhood of Ugubio, in the year 1414 A.D.; they date as early as 354 B.C., and contain prayers and rules for religious ceremonies. Some of these tables were engraved in Etruscan or Umbrian characters, others in Latin letters. The remains which have come down to us of the Oscan language belong to a composite idiom made up of the Sabine and Oscan, and consist chiefly of an inscription engraved on a brass plate, discovered in 1793 A.D. As the word Bansae occurs in this inscription, it has been supposed to refer to the town of Bantia, which was situated not far from the spot where the tablet was found, and it is, therefore, called the Bantine Table. The similarity between some of the words found in the Eugubine Tables and in Etruscan inscriptions, shows that the Etruscan language was composed of the Pelasgian and Umbrian, and from the examples given by ethnographers, it is evident that the Etruscan element was most influential in the formation of the Latin language.

The old Roman tongue, or lingua prisca, as it was composed of these materials, and as it existed previous to coming in contact with the Greek, has almost entirely perished; it did not grow into the new, like the Greek, by a process of intrinsic development, but it was remoulded by external and foreign influences. So different was the old Roman from the classical Latin, that some of those ancient fragments were with difficulty intelligible to the cleverest and best educated scholars of the Augustan age.

An example of the oldest Latin extant is contained in the sacred chant of the Fratres Arvales. These were a college of priests, whose function was to offer prayers for plenteous harvests, in solemn dances and processions at the opening of spring. Their song was chanted in the temple with closed doors, accompanied by that peculiar dance which was termed the tripudium, from its containing three beats. The inscription which embodied this litany was discovered in Rome in 1778 A.D. The monument belongs to the reign of Heliogabalus, 218 A.D., but although the date is so recent, the permanence of religious formulas renders it probable that the inscription contains the exact words sung by this priesthood in the earliest times. The "Carmen Saliare," or the Salian hymn, the leges regiae, the Tiburtine inscription, the inscription on the sarcophagus of L. Cornelius Scipio Barbatus, the great-grandfather of the conqueror of Hannibal, the epitaph of Lucius Scipio, his son, and, above all, the Twelve Tables, are the other principal extant monuments of ancient Latin. The laws of the Twelve Tables were engraven on tablets of brass, and publicly set up in the comitium; they were first made public 449 B.C.

Most of these literary monuments were written in Saturnian verse, the oldest measure used by the Latin poets. It was probably derived from the Etruscans, and until Ennius introduced the heroic hexameter, the strains of the Italian bards flowed in this metre. The structure of the Saturnian is very simple, and its rhythmical arrangement is found in the poetry of every age and country. Macaulay adduces, as an example of this measure, the following line from the well-known nursery song,——

"The queén was ín her párlor, | eáting breád and hóney."

From this species of verse, which probably prevailed among the natives of Provence (the Roman Provincia), and into which, at a later period, rhyme was introduced as an embellishment, the Troubadours derived the metre of their ballad poetry, and thence introduced it into the rest of Europe.

A wide gap separates this old Latin from the Latin of Ennius, whose style was formed by Greek taste; another not so wide is interposed between the age of Ennius and that of Plautus and Terence, and lastly, Cicero and the Augustan poets mark another age. But in all its periods of development, the Latin bears a most intimate relation with the Greek. This similarity is the result both of their common origin from the primitive Pelasgian and of the intercourse which the Romans at a later period held with the Greeks. Latin, however, had not the plastic property of the Greek, the faculty of transforming itself into every variety of form and shape conceived by the fancy and imagination; it partook of the spirit of Roman nationality, of the conscious dignity of the Roman citizen, of the indomitable will that led that people to the conquest of the world. In its construction, instead of conforming to the thought, it bends the thought to its own genius. It is a fit language for expressing the thoughts of an active and practical, but not of an imaginative and speculative people. It was propagated, like the dominion of Rome, by conquest. It either took the place of the language of the conquered nation, or became ingrafted upon it, and gradually pervaded its composition; hence its presence is discernible in all European languages.

3. THE RELIGION.—The religion and mythology of Etruria left an indelible stamp on the rites and ceremonies of the Roman people. At first they worshiped heaven and earth, personified in Saturn and Ops, by whom Juno, Vesta, and Ceres were generated, symbolizing marriage, family, and fertility; soon after, other Etruscan divinities were introduced, such as Jupiter, Minerva, and Janus; and Sylvanus and Faunus, who delighted in the simple occupations of rural and pastoral life. From the Etrurians the Romans borrowed, also, the institution of the Vestals, whose duty was to watch and keep alive the sacred fire of Vesta; the Lares and Penates, the domestic gods, which presided over the dwelling and family; Terminus, the god of property and the rites connected with possession; and the orders of Augurs and Aruspices, whose office was to consult the flight of birds or to inspect the entrails of animals offered in sacrifice, in order to ascertain future events. The family of the Roman gods continued to increase by adopting the divinities of the conquered nations, and more particularly by the introduction of those of Greece. The general division of the gods was twofold,—the superior and inferior deities. The first class contained the Consentes and the Selecti; the second, the Indigetes and Semones. The Consentes, so called because they were supposed to form the great council of heaven, consisted of twelve: Jupiter, Neptune, Apollo, Mars, Mercury, Vulcan, Juno, Minerva, Ceres, Diana, Venus, and Vesta. The Selecti were nearly equal to them in rank, and consisted of eight: Saturn, Pluto, Bacchus, Janus, Sol, Genius, Rhea, and Luna. The Indigites were heroes who were ranked among the gods, and included particularly Hercules, Castor and Pollux, and Quirinus or Romulus. The Semones comprehended those deities that presided over particular objects, as Pan, the god of shepherds; Flora, the goddess of flowers, etc. Besides these, there were among the inferior gods a numerous class of deities, including the virtues and vices and other objects personified.

The religion of the Romans was essentially political, and employed as a means of promoting the designs of the state. It was prosaic in its character, and in this respect differed essentially from the artistic and poetical religion of the Greeks. The Greeks conceived religion as a free and joyous worship of nature, a centre of individuality, beauty, and grace, as well as a source of poetry, art, and independence. With the Romans, on the contrary, religion conveyed a mysterious and hidden idea, which gave to this sentiment a gloomy and unattractive character, without either moral or artistic influence.

PERIOD FIRST.

FROM THE CONCLUSION OF THE FIRST PUNIC WAR TO THE AGE OF CICERO (241-74 B.C.)

1. EARLY LITERATURE OF THE ROMANS.—The Romans, like all other nations, had oral poetical compositions before they possessed any written literature. Cicero speaks of the banquet being enlivened by the songs of bards, in which the exploits of heroes were recited and celebrated. By these lays national pride and family vanity were gratified, and the anecdotes, thus preserved, furnished sources of early legendary history. But these legends must not be compared to those of Greece, in which the religious sentiment gave a supernatural glory to the effusions of the bard, painted men as heroes and heroes as deities, and, while it was the natural growth of the Greek intellect, twined itself around the affections of the people. The Roman religion was a ceremonial for the priests, and not for the people, and in Roman tradition there are no traces of elevated genius or poetical inspiration. The Romans possessed the germs of those faculties which admit of cultivation and improvement, such as taste and genius, and the appreciation of the beautiful; but they did not possess those natural gifts of fancy and imagination which formed part of the Greek mind, and which made that nation in a state of infancy, almost of barbarism, a poetical people. With them literature was not of spontaneous growth; it was chiefly the result of the influence exerted by the Etruscans, who were their teachers in everything mental and spiritual.

The tendency of the Roman mind was essentially utilitarian. Even Cicero, with all his varied accomplishments, will recognize but one end and object of all study, namely, those sciences which will render man useful to his country, and the law of literary development is modified according to this ruling principle. From the very beginning, the first cause of Roman literature will be found to have been a view to utility and not to the satisfaction of an impulsive feeling.

In other nations, poetry has been the first spontaneous production. With the Romans, the first written literary effort was history; but even their early history was a simple record of facts, not of ideas or sentiments, and valuable only for its truth and accuracy. Their original documents, mere records of memorable events anterior to the capture of Rome by the Gauls, perished in the conflagration of the city.

The earliest attempt at versification made by the rude inhabitants of Latium was satire in a somewhat dramatic form. The Fescennine songs were metrical, for the accompaniments of music and dancing necessarily restricted them to measure, and, like the dramatic exhibitions of the Greeks, they had their origin among the rural population, not like them in any religious ceremonial, but in the pastimes of the village festival. At first they were innocent and gay, but liberty at length degenerated into license, and gave birth to malicious and libelous attacks upon persons of irreproachable character. This infancy of song illustrates the character of the Romans in its rudest and coarsest form. They loved strife, both bodily and mental, and they thus early displayed that taste which, in more polished ages, and in the hands of cultivated poets, was developed in the sharp, cutting wit, and the lively but piercing points of Roman satire.

In the Fescennine songs the Etruscans probably furnished the spectacle, all that which addresses itself to the eye, while the habits of Italian rural life supplied the sarcastic humor and ready extemporaneous gibe, which are the essence of the true comic. The next advance in point of art must be attributed to the Oscans, whose entertainments were most popular among the Italian nations. They represented in broad caricature national peculiarities. Their language was, originally, Oscan, as well as the characters represented. The principal one resembled the clown of modern pantomime; another was a kind of pantaloon or charlatan, and much of the rest consisted of practical jokes, like that of the Italian Polincinella. After their introduction at Rome, they received many improvements; they lost their native rusticity; their satire was good-natured; their jests were seemly, and kept in check by the laws of good taste. They were not acted by common professional performers, and even a Roman citizen might take part in them without disgrace. They were known by the name of "Fabulae Atellanae," from Attela, a town in Campania, where they were first performed. They remained in favor with the Roman people for centuries. Sylla amused his leisure hours in writing them, and Suetonius bears testimony to their having been a popular amusement under the empire.

Towards the close of the fourth century, the Etruscan histriones were introduced, whose entertainments consisted of graceful national dances, accompanied with the music of the flute, but without either songs or dramatic action. With these dances the Romans combined the old Fescennine songs, and the varied metres, which their verse permitted to the vocal parts, gave to this mixed entertainment the name of Satura (a hodge-podge or potpourri), from which, in after times, the word satire was derived.

2. EARLY LATIN POETS.—At the conclusion, of the first Punic war, when the influence of Greek intellect, which had already long been felt in Italy, had extended to the capital, the Romans were prepared for the reception of a more regular drama. But not only did they owe to Greece the principles of literary taste; their earliest poet was one of that nation. Livius Andronicus (fl. 240 B.C.), though born in Italy, and educated at Rome, is supposed to have been a native of the Greek colony of Tarentum. He was at first a slave, probably a captive taken in war, but was finally emancipated by his master, in whose family he occupied the position of instructor to his children. He wrote a translation, or perhaps an imitation of the Odyssey, in the old Saturnian metre, and also a few hymns. His principal works, however, were tragedies; but, from the few fragments of his writings extant, it is impossible to form an estimate of his ability as a poet. According to Livy, Andronicus was the first who substituted, for the rude extemporaneous effusions of the Fescennine verse, plays with a regular plot and fable. In consequence of losing his voice, from being frequently encored, he obtained permission to introduce a boy to sing the ode or air to the accompaniment of the flute, while he himself represented the action of the song by his gestures and dancing.

Naevius (fl. 235 B.C.) was the first poet who really deserves the name of Roman. He was not a servile imitator, but applied Greek taste and cultivation to the development of Roman sentiments, and was a true Roman in heart, unsparing in his censure of immorality and his admiration for heroic self-devotion. His honest principles cemented the strong friendship between him and the upright and unbending Cato, a friendship which probably contributed to form the political and literary character of that stern old Roman. The comedies of Naevius had undoubted pretensions to originality; he held up to public scorn the vices and follies of his day, and, being a warm supporter of the people against the encroachments of the nobility, and unable to resist indulgence in his satiric vein, he was exiled to Utica, where he died. He was the author of an epic poem on the Punic war. Ennius and Virgil unscrupulously copied and imitated him, and Horace writes that in his day the poems of Naevius were in the hands and hearts of everybody. The fragments of his writings extant are not more numerous than those of Livius.

Naevius, the last of the older school of writers, by introducing new principles of taste to his countrymen, altered their standards; and Greek literature having now driven out its predecessor, a new school of poetry arose, of which Ennius (239-169 B.C.) was the founder. He earned a subsistence as a teacher of Greek, was the friend of Scipio, and, at his death, was buried in the family tomb of the Scipio, at the request of the great conqueror of Hannibal, whose fame he contributed to hand down to posterity. Cicero always uses the appellation, "our own Ennius," when he quotes his poetry. Horace calls him "Father Ennius," a term which implies reverence and regard, and that he was the founder of Latin poetry. He was, like his friends Cato the censor, and Scipio Africanus the elder, a man of action as well as philosophical thought, and not only a poet, but a brave soldier, with all the singleness of heart and simplicity of manners which marked the old times of Roman virtue. Ennius possessed great power over words, and wielded that power skillfully. He improved the language in its harmony and its grammatical forms, and increased its copiousness and power. What he did was improved upon, but was never undone; and upon the foundations he laid, the taste of succeeding ages erected an elegant and beautiful superstructure. His great epic poem, the "Annals," gained him the attachment and admiration of his countrymen. In this he first introduced the hexameter to the notice of the Romans, and detailed the rise and progress of their national glory, from the earliest legendary period down to his own times. The fragments of this work which remain are amply sufficient to show that he possessed picturesque power, both in sketching his narratives and in portraying his characters, which seem to live and breathe; his language, dignified, chaste, and severe, rises as high as the most majestic eloquence, but it does not soar to the sublimity of poetry. As a dramatic poet, Ennius does not deserve a high reputation. In comedy, as in tragedy, he never emancipated himself from the Greek originals.

3. ROMAN COMEDY.—The rude comedy of the early Romans made little progress beyond personal satire, burlesque extravagance and licentious jesting, but upon this was ingrafted the new Greek comedy, and hence arose that phase of the drama, of which the representatives were Plautus, Statius, and Terence. The Roman comedy was calculated to produce a moral result, although the morality it inculcated was extremely low. Its standard was worldly prudence, its lessons utilitarian, and its philosophy Epicurean. There is a want of variety in the plots, but this defect is owing to the social and political condition of ancient Greece, which was represented in the Greek comedies and copied by the Romans. There is also a sameness in the dramatis personae, the principal characters being always a morose or a gentle father, who is sometimes also the henpecked husband of a rich wife, an affectionate or domineering wife, a good-natured profligate, a roguish servant, a calculating slave-dealer and some others.

The actors wore appropriate masks, the features of which were not only grotesque, but much exaggerated and magnified. This was rendered necessary by the immense size of the theatre and stage, and the mouth of the mask answered the purpose of a speaking trumpet, to assist in conveying the voice to every part of the vast building. The characters were known by a conventional costume; old men wore robes of white, young men were attired in gay clothes, rich men in purple, soldiers in scarlet, poor men and slaves in dark and scanty dresses. The comedy had always a musical accompaniment of flutes of different kinds.

In order to understand the principles which regulated the Roman comic metres, it is necessary to observe the manner in which the language itself was affected by the common conversational pronunciation. Latin, as it was pronounced, was very different from Latin as it is written; this difference consisted in abbreviation, either by the omission of sounds altogether, or by the contraction of two sounds into one, and in this respect the conversational language of the Romans resembled that of modern nations; with them, as with us, the mark of good taste was ease and the absence of pedantry and affectation. In the comic writers we have a complete representation of Latin as it was commonly pronounced and spoken, and but little trammeled or confined by a rigid adhesion to Greek metrical laws.

4. COMIC POETS.—Plautus (227-184 B.C.) was a contemporary of Ennius; he was a native of Umbria, and of humble origin. Education did not overcome his vulgarity, although it produced a great effect upon his language and style. He must have lived and associated with the people whose manners he describes, hence his pictures are correct and truthful. The class from which his representations are taken consisted of clients, the sons of freedmen and the half-enfranchised natives of Italian towns. He had no aristocratic friends, like Ennius and Terence; the Roman public were his patrons, and notwithstanding their faults, his comedies retained their popularity even in the Augustan age, and were acted as late as the reign of Diocletian. Life, bustle, surprise, unexpected situations, sharp, sparkling raillery that knew no restraint nor bound, left his audience no time for dullness or weariness. Although Greek was the fountain from which he drew his stores, his wit, thought, and language were entirely Roman, and his style was Latin of the purest and most elegant kind—not, indeed, controlled by much deference to the laws of metrical harmony, but full of pith and sprightliness, bearing the stamp of colloquial vivacity, and suitable to the general briskness of his scenes. Yet in the tone of his dialogue we miss all symptoms of deference to the taste of the more polished classes of society. Almost all his comedies were adopted from the new comedy of the Greeks, and though he had studied both the old and the middle comedy, Menander and others of the same school furnished him the originals of his plots. The popularity of Plautus was not confined to Rome, either republican or imperial. Dramatic writers of modern times, as Shakspeare, Dryden, and Molière, have recognized the effectiveness of his plots, and have adopted or imitated them. About twenty of his plays are extant, among which the Captivi, the Epidicus, the Cistellaria, the Aulularia, and the Rudens are considered the best.

Terence (193-158 B.C.) was a slave in the family of a Roman senator, and was probably a native of Carthage. His genius presented the rare combination of all the fine and delicate qualities which characterized Attic sentiment, without corrupting the native purity of the Latin language. The elegance and gracefulness of his style show that the conversation of the accomplished society, in which he was a welcome guest, was not lost upon his correct ear and quick intuition. So far as it can be so, comedy was, in the hands of Terence, an instrument of moral teaching. Six of his comedies only remain, of which the Andrian and the Adelphi are the most interesting. If Terence was inferior to Plautus in life, bustle, and intrigue, and in the delineation of national character, he is superior in elegance of language and refinement of taste. The justness of his reflections more than compensates for the absence of his predecessor's humor; he touches the heart as well as gratifies the intellect.

Of the few other writers of comedy among the Romans, Statius may be mentioned, who flourished between Plautus and Terence. He was an emancipated slave, born in Milan. Cicero and Varro have pronounced judgment upon his merits, the substance of which appears to be, that his excellences consisted in the conduct of the plot, in dignity, and in pathos, while his fault was too little care in preserving the purity of the Latin style. The fragments, however, of his works, which remain are not sufficient to test the opinion of the ancient critics.

5. ROMAN TRAGEDY.—While Roman comedy was brought to perfection under the influence of Greek literature, Roman tragedy, on the other hand, was transplanted from Athens, and, with few exceptions, was never anything more than translation or imitation. In the century during which, together with comedy, it flourished and decayed, it boasted of five distinguished writers, Livius, Naevius, Ennius (already spoken of), Pacuvius, and Attius. In after ages, Rome did not produce one tragic poet, unless Varius be considered an exception. The tragedies attributed to Seneca were never acted, and were only composed for reading and recitation.

Among the causes which prevented tragedy from flourishing at Rome was the little influence the national legends exerted over the people. These legends were more often private than public property, and ministered more to the glory of private families than to that of the nation at large. They were embalmed by their poets as curious records of antiquity, but they did not, like the venerable traditions of Greece, twine themselves around the heart of the nation. Another reason why Roman legends had not the power to move the affections of the Roman populace is to be found in the changes the masses had undergone. The Roman people were no longer the descendants of those who had maintained the national glory in the early period; the patrician families were almost extinct; war and poverty had extinguished the middle classes and miserably thinned the lower orders. Into the vacancy thus caused, poured thousands of slaves, captives in the bloody wars of Gaul, Spain, Greece, and Africa. These and their descendants replaced the ancient people, and while many of them by their talents and energy arrived at wealth and station, they could not possibly be Romans at heart, or consider the past glories of their adopted country as their own. It was to the rise of this new element of population, and the displacement or absorption of the old race, that the decline of patriotism was owing, and the disregard of everything except daily sustenance and daily amusement, which paved the way for the empire and marked the downfall of liberty. With the people of Athens, tragedy formed a part of the national religion. By it the people were taught to sympathize with their heroic ancestors; the poet was held to be inspired, and poetry the tongue in which the natural held communion with the supernatural. With the Romans, the theatre was merely a place for secular amusement, and poetry only an exercise of the fancy. Again, the religion of the Romans was not ideal, like that of the Greeks. The old national faith of Italy, not being rooted in the heart, soon became obsolete, and readily admitted the ingrafting of foreign superstitions, which had no hold on the belief or love of the people. Nor was the genius of the Roman people such as to sympathize with the legends of the past; they lived only in the present and the future; they did not look back on their national heroes as demigods; they were pressing forward to extend the frontiers of their empire, to bring under their yoke nations which their forefathers had not known. If they regarded their ancestors at all, it was not in the light of men of heroic stature as compared with themselves, but as those whom they could equal or even surpass.

The scenes of real life, the bloody combats of the gladiators, the captives, and malefactors stretched on crosses, expiring in excruciating agonies or mangled by wild beasts, were the tragedies which most deeply interested a Roman audience.

The Romans were a rough people, full of physical rather than of intellectual energy, courting peril and setting no value on human life or suffering. Their very virtues were stern and severe; they were strangers to both the passions which it was the object of tragedy to excite—pity and terror. In the public games of Greece, the refinements of poetry mingled with those exercises which were calculated to invigorate the physical powers, and develop manly beauty. Those of Rome were sanguinary and brutalizing, the amusements of a nation to whom war was a pleasure and a pastime.

It cannot be asserted, however, that tragedy was never to a certain extent an acceptable entertainment at Rome, but only that it never flourished there as it did at Athens, and that no Roman tragedies can be compared with those of Greece.

6. TRAGIC POETS.—Three separate eras produced tragic poets. In the first flourished Livius Andronicus, Naevius, and Ennius; in the second, Pacuvius and Attius; in the third, Asinius Pollio wrote tragedies, the plots of which seem to have been taken from Roman history. Ovid attempted a "Medea," and even the Emperor Augustus, with other men of genius, tried his hand, though unsuccessfully, at tragedy.

In the second of the eras mentioned, Roman tragedy reached its highest degree of perfection simultaneously with that of comedy. While Terence was successfully reproducing the wit and manners of the new Attic comedy, Pacuvius (220-130 B.C.) was enriching the Roman drama with free translations of the Greek tragedians. He was a native of Brundusium and a grandson of the poet Ennius. At Rome he distinguished himself as a painter as well as a dramatic poet. His tragedies were not mere translations, but adaptations of Greek tragedies to the Roman stage. The fragments which are extant are full of new and original thoughts, and the very roughness of his style and audacity of his expressions have somewhat of the solemn grandeur and picturesque boldness which distinguish the father of Attic tragedy.

Attius (fl. 138 B.C.), though born later than Pacuvius, was almost his contemporary, and a competitor for popular applause. He is said to have written more than fifty tragedies, of which fragments only remain. His taste is chastened, his sentiments noble, and his versification elegant. With him, Latin tragedy disappeared. The tragedies of the third period were written expressly for reading and recitation, and not for the stage: they were dramatic poems, not dramas. Amidst the scenes of horror and violence which followed, the voice of the tragic muse was hushed. Massacre and rapine raged through the streets of Rome, itself a theatre where the most terrible scenes were daily enacted.

7. SATIRE.—The invention of satire is universally attributed to the Romans, and this is true as far as the external form is concerned, but the spirit is found in many parts of the literature of Greece. Ennius was the inventor of the name, but Lucilius (148-102 B.C.) was the father of satire, in the proper sense. His satires mark an era in Roman literature, and prove that a love for this species of poetry had already made great progress. Hitherto, literature, science, and art had been considered the province of slaves and freedmen. The stern old Roman virtue despised such sedentary employment as intellectual cultivation, and thought it unworthy of the warrior and statesman. Some of the higher classes loved literature and patronized it, but did not make it their pursuit. Lucilius was a Roman knight, as well as a poet. His satires were comprised in thirty books, numerous fragments of which are still extant. He was a man of high moral principle, though stern and stoical; a relentless enemy of vice and profligacy, and a gallant and fearless defender of truth and honesty. After the death of Lucilius satire languished, until half a century later, when it assumed a new garb in the descriptive scenes of Horace, and put forth its original vigor in the burning thoughts of Persius and Juvenal.

8. HISTORY AND ORATORY.—Prose was far more in accordance with the genius of the Romans than poetry. As a nation, they had little or no imaginative power, no enthusiastic love of natural beauty, and no acute perception of the sympathy between man and the external world. The favorite civil pursuit of an enlightened Roman was statesmanship, and the subjects akin to it, history, jurisprudence, and oratory, the natural language of which was prose, not poetry. And their practical statesmanship gave an early encouragement to oratory, which is peculiarly the literature of active life. As matter was more valued than manner by this utilitarian people, it was long before it was thought necessary to embellish prose composition with the graces of rhetoric. The fact that Roman literature was imitative rather than inventive, gave a historical bias to the Roman intellect, and a tendency to study subjects from an historical point of view. But even in history, they never attained that comprehensive and philosophical spirit which distinguished the Greek historians.

The most ancient writer of Roman history was Fabius Pictor (fl. 219 B.C.). His principal work, written in Greek, was a history of the first and second Punic war, to which subsequent writers were much indebted. Contemporary with Fabius was Cincius Alimentus, also an annalist of the Punic war, in which he was personally engaged. He was a prisoner of Hannibal, who delighted in the society of literary men, and treated him with great kindness and consideration, and himself communicated to him the details of his passage across the Alps. Like Fabius, he wrote his work in Greek, and prefixed to it a brief abstract of Roman history. Though the works of these annalists are valuable as furnishing materials for more philosophical minds, they are such as could have existed only in the infancy of a national literature. They were a bare compilation of facts— the mere framework of history—diversified by no critical remarks or political reflections, and meagre and insipid in style.

The versatility of talent displayed by Cato the censor (224-144 B.C.) entitles him to a place among orators, jurists, economists, and historians. His life extends over a wide and important period of literary history, when everything was in a state of change,—morals, social habits, and literary taste. Cato was born in Tusculum, and passed his boyhood in the pursuits of rural life at a small Sabine farm belonging to his father. The skill with which he pleaded the causes of his clients before the rural magistracy made his abilities known, and he rose rapidly to eminence as a pleader. He filled many high offices of state. His energies were not weakened by advancing age, and he was always ready as the advocate of virtue, the champion of the oppressed, and the punisher of vice. With many defects, Cato was morally and intellectually one of the greatest men Rome ever produced. He had the ability and the determination to excel in everything which he undertook. His style is rude, unpolished, ungraceful, because to him polish was superficial, and, therefore, unreal. His statements, however, were clear, his illustrations striking; the words with which he enriched his native tongue were full of meaning; his wit was keen and lively, and his arguments went straight to the intellect, and carried conviction with them.

Cato's great historical and antiquarian work, "The Origins," was a history of Italy and Rome from the earliest times to the latest events which occurred in his own lifetime. It was a work of great research and originality, but only brief fragments of it remain. In the "De Re Rustica," which has come down to us in form and substance as it was written, Cato maintains, in the introduction, the superiority of agriculture over other modes of gaining a livelihood. The work itself is a commonplace book of agriculture and domestic economy; its object is utility, not science: it serves the purpose of a farmer's and gardener's manual, a domestic medicine, herbal, and cookery book. Cato teaches his readers, for example, how to plant osier beds, to cultivate vegetables, to preserve the health of cattle, to pickle pork, and to make savory dishes.

Of the "Orations" of Cato, ninety titles are extant, together with numerous fragments. In style he despised art. He was too fearless and upright, too confident in the justness of his cause to be a rhetorician; he imitated no one, and no one was ever able to imitate him. Niebuhr pronounces him to be the only great man in his generation, and one of the greatest and most honorable characters in Roman history.

Varro (116-28 B.C.) was an agriculturist, a grammarian, a critic, a theologian, a historian, a philosopher, a satirist. Of his miscellaneous works considerable portions are extant, sufficient to display his erudition and acuteness, yet, in themselves, more curious than attractive.

Eloquence, though of a rude, unpolished kind, must have been, in the very earliest times, a characteristic of the Roman people. It is a plant indigenous to a free soil. As in modern times it has flourished especially in England and America, fostered by the unfettered freedom of debate, so it found a congenial home in free Greece and republican Rome. Oratory was, in Rome, the unwritten literature of active life, and recommended itself to a warlike and utilitarian people by its utility and its antagonistic spirit. Long before the art of the historian was sufficiently advanced to record a speech, the forum, the senate, the battlefield, and the threshold of the jurisconsult had been nurseries of Roman eloquence, or schools in which oratory attained a vigorous youth, and prepared for its subsequent maturity.

While the legal and political constitution of the Roman people gave direct encouragement to deliberative and judicial oratory, respect for the illustrious dead furnished opportunities for panegyric. The song of the bard in honor of the departed warrior gave place to the funeral oration. Among the orators of this time were the two Scipios, and Galba, whom Cicero praises as having been the first Roman who understood how to apply the theoretical principles of Greek rhetoric.

All periods of political disquiet are necessarily favorable to eloquence, and the era of the Gracchi was especially so. After a struggle of nearly four centuries the old distinction of plebeian and patrician no longer existed. Plebeians held high offices, and patricians, like the Gracchi, stood forward as champions of popular rights. These stirring times produced many celebrated orators. The Gracchi themselves were both eloquent and possessed of those qualities and endowments which would recommend their eloquence to their countrymen. Oratory began now to be studied more as an art, and the interval between the Gracchi and Cicero boasted of many distinguished names; the most illustrious among them are M. Antonius, Crassus, and Cicero's contemporary and most formidable rival, Hortensius.

M. Antonius (fl. 119 B.C.) entered public life as a pleader, and thus laid the foundation of his brilliant career; but he was through life greater as a judicial than as a deliberative orator. He was indefatigable in preparing his case, and made every point tell. He was a great master of the pathetic, and knew the way to the heart. Although he did not himself give his speeches to posterity, some of his most pointed expressions and favorite passages left an indelible impression on the memories of his hearers, and many of them were preserved by Cicero. In the prime of life he fell a victim to political fury, and his bleeding head was placed upon the rostrum, which was so frequently the scene of his eloquent triumphs.

L. Licinius Crassus was four years younger than Antonius, and acquired great reputation for his knowledge of jurisprudence, for his eminence as a pleader, and, above all, for his powerful and triumphant orations in support of the restoration of the judicial office to the senators. From among the crowd of orators, who were then flourishing in the last days of expiring Roman liberty, Cicero selected Crassus to be the representative of his sentiments in his imaginary conversation in "The Orator." Like Lord Chatham, Crassus almost died on the floor of the Senate house, and his last effort was in support of the aristocratic party.

Q. Hortensius was born 114 B.C. He was only eight years senior to the greatest of all Roman orators. He early commenced his career as a pleader, and he was the acknowledged leader of the Roman bar, until the star of Cicero arose. His political connection with the faction of Sylla, and his unscrupulous support of the profligate corruption which characterized that administration, both at home and abroad, enlisted his legal talents in defense of the infamous Verres; but the eloquence of Cicero, together with the justice of the cause which he espoused, prevailed; and from that time forward his superiority over Hortensius was established and complete. The style of Hortensius was Asiatic—more florid and ornate than polished and refined.

9. ROMAN JURISPRUDENCE.—The framework of their jurisprudence the Romans derived from Athens, but the complete structure was built up by their own hands. They were the authors of a system possessing such stability that they bequeathed it, as an inheritance, to modern Europe, and traces of Roman law are visible in the legal systems of the whole civilized world.

The complicated principles of jurisprudence of the Roman constitution became, in Rome, a necessary part of a liberal education. When a Roman youth had completed his studies, under his teacher of rhetoric, he not only frequented the forum, in order to learn the application of the rhetorical principles he had acquired, and frequently took some celebrated orator as a model, but also studied the principles of jurisprudence under eminent jurists, and attended the consultations in which they gave to their clients their expositions of law.

The earliest systematic works on Roman law were the "Manual" of Pomponius, and the "Institutes" of Gaius, who flourished in the time of Hadrian and the Antonines. Both of these works were, for a long time, lost, though fragments were preserved in the pandects of Justinian. In 1816, however, Niebuhr discovered a palimpsest MS., in which the epistles of St. Jerome were written over the erased "Institutes" of Gaius. From the numerous misunderstandings of the Roman historians respecting the laws and constitutional history of their country, the subject continued long in a state of confusion, until Vico, in his "Scienza nuova," dispelled the clouds of error, and reduced it to a system; and he was followed so successfully by Niebuhr, that modern students can have a more comprehensive and antiquarian knowledge of the subject than the writers of the Augustan age.

The earliest Roman laws were the "Leges Regiae," which were collected and codified by Sextus Papirius, and were hence called the Papirian code; but these were rude and unconnected—simply a collection of isolated enactments. The laws of the "Twelve Tables" stand next in point of antiquity. They exhibited the first attempt at regular system, and embodied not only legislative enactments, but legal principles. So popular were they that when Cicero was a child every Roman boy committed them to memory, as our children do their catechism, and the great orator laments that in the course of his lifetime this practice had become obsolete.

The oral traditional expositions of these laws formed the groundwork of the Roman civil law. To these were added, from time to time, the decrees of the people, the acts of the senate, and praetorian edicts, and from these various elements the whole body of Roman law was composed. So early was the subject diligently studied, that the age preceding the first two centuries of our era was rich in jurists whose powers are celebrated in history.

The most eminent jurists who adorned this period were the Scaevolae, a family in whom the profession seems to have been hereditary. After them flourished Aelius Gallus (123-67 B.C.), eminent as a law reformer, C. Juventius, Sextus Papirius, and L. Lucilius Balbus, three distinguished jurists, who were a few years senior to Cicero.

10. GRAMMARIANS.—Towards the conclusion of this literary period a great increase took place in the numbers of those learned men whom the Romans at first termed literati, but afterwards, following the custom of the Greeks, grammarians. To them literature was under great obligations. Although few of them were authors, and all of them possessed acquired learning rather than original genius, they exercised a powerful influence over the public mind as professors, lecturers, critics, and schoolmasters. By them the youths of the best families not only were imbued with a taste for Greek philosophy and poetry, but were also taught to appreciate the literature of their own country. Livius Andronicus and Ennius may be placed at the head of this class, followed by Crates Mallotes, C. Octavius Lampadio, Laelius, Archelaus, and others, most of whom were emancipated slaves, either from Greece or from other foreign countries.

PERIOD SECOND.

FROM THE AGE OF CICERO TO THE DEATH OF AUGUSTUS (74 B.C.-14 A.D.)

1. DEVELOPMENT OF THE ROMAN LITERATURE.—Latin literature, at first rude, and, for five centuries, unable to reach any high excellence, was, as we have seen, gradually developed by the example and tendency of the Greek mind, which moulded Roman civilization anew. The earliest Latin poets, historians, and grammarians were Greeks. The metre which was brought to such perfection by the Latin poets was formed from the Greek, and the Latin language more and more assimilated to the Hellenic tongue.

As civilization advanced, the rude literature of Rome was compared with the great monuments of Greek genius, their superiority was acknowledged, and the study of them encouraged. The Roman youth not only attended the schools of the Greeks, in Rome, but their education was considered incomplete, unless they repaired to those of Athens, Rhodes, and Mytilene. Thus, whatever of national character existed in the literature was gradually obliterated, and what it gained in harmony and finish it lost in originality. The Roman writers imitated more particularly the writers of the Alexandrian school, who, being more artificial, were more congenial than the great writers of the age of Pericles.

Roman genius, serious, majestic, and perhaps more original than at a later period, was manifest even at the time of the Punic wars, but it had not yet taken form; and while thought was vigorous and powerful, expression remained weak and uncertain. But, under the Greek influence, and aided by the vigor imparted by free institutions, the union of thought and form was at length consummated, and the literature reached its culminating point in the great Roman orator. The fruits which had grown and matured in the centuries preceding were gathered by Augustus; but the influences that contributed to the splendor of his age belong rather to the republic than the empire, and with the fall of the liberties of Rome, Roman literature declined.

2. MIMES, MIMOGRAPHERS, AND PANTOMIME.—Amidst all the splendor of the Latin literature of this period, dramatic poetry never recovered from the trance into which it had fallen, though the stage had not altogether lost its popularity. Aesopus and Roscius, the former the great tragic actor, and the latter the favorite comedian, in the time of Cicero, enjoyed his friendship and that of other great men, and both amassed large fortunes. But although the standard Roman plays were constantly represented, dramatic literature had become extinct. The entertainments, which had now taken the place of comedy and tragedy, were termed mimes. These were laughable imitations of manners and persons, combining the features of comedy and farce, for comedy represents the characters of a class, farce those of individuals. Their essence was that of the modern pantomime, and their coarseness, and even indecency, gratified the love of broad humor which characterized the Roman people. After a time, when they became established as popular favorites, the dialogue occupied a more prominent position, and was written in verse, like that of tragedy and comedy. During the dictatorship of Caesar, a Roman knight named Laberius (107-45 B.C.) became famous for his mimes. The profession of an actor of mimes was infamous, but Laberius was a writer, not an actor. On one occasion, Caesar offered him a large sum of money to enter the lists in a trial of his improvisatorial skill. Laberius did not submit to the degradation for the sake of the money, but he was afraid to refuse. The only method of retaliation in his power was sarcasm. His part was that of a slave; and when his master scourged him, he exclaimed: "Porro, Quirites, libertatem perdimus!" His words were received with a round of applause, and all eyes were fixed on Caesar. The dictator restored him to the rank of which his act had deprived him, but he could never recover the respect of his countrymen. As he passed the orchestra, on his way to the stalls of the knights, Cicero cried out: "If we were not so crowded, I would make room for you here." Laberius replied, alluding to Cicero's lukewarmness as a political partisan: "I am astonished that you should be crowded, as you generally sit on two stools."

Another writer and actor of mimes was Publius Syrus, originally a Syrian slave. Tradition has recorded a bon mot of his which is as witty as it is severe. Seeing an ill-tempered man named Mucius in low spirits, he exclaimed: "Either some ill fortune has happened to Mucius, or some good fortune to one of his friends!"

The Roman pantomime differed somewhat from the mime. It was a ballet of action, performed by a single dancer, who not only exhibited the human figure in its most graceful attitudes, but represented every passion and emotion with such truth that the spectators could, without difficulty, understand the story. The pantomime was licentious in its character, and the actors were forbidden by Tiberius to hold any intercourse with Romans of equestrian or senatorial dignity.

These were the exhibitions which threw such discredit on the stage, which called forth the well-deserved attacks of the early Christian fathers, and caused them to declare that whoever attended them was unworthy of the name of Christian. Had the drama not been so abused, had it retained its original purity, and carried out the object attributed to it by Aristotle, they would have seen it, not a nursery of vice, but a school of virtue; not only an innocent amusement, but a powerful engine to form the taste, to improve the morals, and to purify the feelings of a people.

3. EPIC POETRY.—The epic poets of this period selected their subjects either from the heroic age and the mythology of Greece, or from their own national history. The Augustan age abounds in representatives of these two poetical schools, though possessing little merit. But the Romans, essentially practical and positive in their character, felt little interest in the descriptions of manners and events remote from their associations, and poetry, restrained within the limits of their history, could not rise to that height of imagination demanded by the epic muse. Virgil united the two forms by selecting his subject from the national history, and adorning the ancient traditions of Rome with the splendor of Greek imagination.

Virgil (70-19 B.C.) was born at Andes, near Mantua; he was educated at Cremona and at Naples, where he studied Greek literature and philosophy. After this he came to Rome, where, through Maecenas, he became known to Octavius, and basked in the sunshine of court favor. His favorite residence was Naples. On his return from Athens, in company with Augustus, he was seized with an illness of which he died. He was buried about a mile from Naples, on the road to Pozzuoli; and a tomb is still pointed out to the traveler which is said to be that of the poet. Virgil was deservedly popular both as a poet and as a man. The emperor esteemed him and people respected him; he was constitutionally pensive and melancholy, temperate, and pure-minded in a profligate age, and his popularity never spoiled his simplicity and modesty. In his last moments he was anxious to burn the whole manuscript of the Aeneid, and directed his executors either to improve it or commit it to the flames.

The idea and plan of the Aeneid are derived from Homer. As the wrath of Achilles is the mainspring of the Iliad, so the unity of the Aeneid results from the anger of Juno. The arrival of Aeneas in Italy after the destruction of Troy, the obstacles that opposed him through the intervention of Juno, and the adventures and the victories of the hero form the subject of the poem. Leaving Sicily for Latium, Aeneas is driven on the coast of Africa by a tempest raised against him by Juno; at Carthage he is welcomed by the queen, Dido, to whom he relates his past adventures and sufferings. By his narrative he wins her love, but at the command of Jupiter abandons her. Unable to retain him, Dido, in the despair of her passion, destroys herself. After passing through many dangers, under the guidance of the Sibyl of Cumae, he descends into the kingdom of the dead to consult the shade of his father. There appear to him the souls of the future heroes of Rome. On his return, he becomes a friend of the king of Latium, who promises to him the hand of his daughter, which is eagerly sought by King Turnus. A fearful war ensues between the rival lovers, which ends in the victory of Aeneas.

Though the poem of Virgil is in many passages an imitation from the Iliad and the Odyssey, the Roman element predominates in it, and the Aeneid is the true national poem of Rome. There was no subject more adapted to flatter the vanity of the Romans, than the splendor and antiquity of their origin. Augustus is evidently typified under the character of Aeneas; Cleopatra is boldly sketched as Dido; and Turnus as the popular Antony. The love and death of Dido, the passionate victim of an unrequited love, give occasion to the poet to sing the victories of his countrymen over their Carthaginian rivals; the Pythagorean metempsychosis, which he adopts in the description of Elysium, affords an opportunity to exalt the heroes of Rome; and the wars of Aeneas allow him to describe the localities and the manners of ancient Latium with such truthfulness as to give to his verses the authority of historical quotations. In style, the Aeneid is a model of purity and elegance, and for the variety and the harmony of its incidents, for the power of its descriptions, and for the interest of its plot and episodes, second only to the Iliad. It has been observed that Virgil's descriptions are more like landscape painting than those of any of his predecessors, whether Greek or Roman, and it is a remarkable fact, that landscape painting was first introduced in his time.

4. DIDACTIC POETRY.—The poems, which first established the reputation of Virgil as a poet, belong to didactic poetry. They are his Bucolics and Georgics. The Bucolics are pastoral idyls; the characters are Italian in all their sentiments and feelings, acting, however, the unreal and assumed part of Greek shepherds. The Italians never possessed the elements of pastoral life, and could not furnish the poet with originals and models from which to draw his portraits. When represented as Virgil represents them in his Bucolics, they are in masquerade, and the drama in which they form the characters is of an allegorical kind. Even the scenery is Sicilian, and does not truthfully describe the tame neighborhood of Mantua. In fact, these poems are imitations of Theocritus; but, divesting ourselves of the idea of the outward form which the poet has chosen to adopt, we are touched by the simple narrative of disappointed loves and childlike woes; we appreciate the delicately-veiled compliments paid by the poet to his patron; we enjoy the inventive genius and poetical power which they display, and we are elevated by the exalted sentiments which they sometimes breathe.

The Georgics are poems on the labors and enjoyments of rural life, a subject for which Rome offered a favorable field. Though in this style Hesiod was the model of Virgil, his system is perfectly Italian, so much so, that many of his rules may be traced in modern Italian husbandry, just as the descriptions of implements in the Greek poet are frequently found to agree with those in use in modern Greece. The great merit of the Georgics consists in their varied digressions, interesting episodes, and in the sublime bursts of descriptive vigor which are interspersed throughout them. They have frequently been taken as models for imitation by the didactic poets of all nations, and more particularly of England. The "Seasons," for instance, is a thoroughly Virgilian poem.

Lucretius (95-51 B.C.) belongs to the class of didactic poets. He might claim a place among philosophers as well as poets, for his poem marks an epoch both in poetry and philosophy. But his philosophy is a mere reflection from that of Greece, while his poetry is bright with the rays of original genius. His poem on "The Nature of Things" is in imitation of that of Empedocles. Its subject is philosophical and its purpose didactic; but its unity of design gives to it almost the rank of an epic. Its structure prevents it from being a complete and systematic survey of the whole Epicurean philosophy, but as far as the form of the poem permitted, it presents an accurate view of the philosophy which then enjoyed the highest popularity.

The object of the poem of Lucretius is to emancipate mankind from the debasing effects of superstition by an exposition of philosophy, and though a follower of Epicurus, he is not entirely destitute of the religious sentiment, for he deifies nature and has a veneration for her laws. His infidelity must be viewed rather in the light of a philosophical protest against the results of heathen superstition, than a total rejection of the principles of religious faith.

Lucretius valued the capabilities of the Latin language. He wielded at will its power of embodying the noblest thoughts, and showed how its copious and flexible properties could overcome the hard technicalities of science. The great beauty of his poetry is its variety; his fancy is always lively, his imagination has always free scope. He is sublime, as a philosopher who penetrates the secrets of the natural world, and discloses to the eyes of man the hidden causes of its wonderful phenomena. His object was a lofty one; for although the absurdities of the national creed drove him into skepticism, his aim was to set the intellect free from the trammels of superstition. But besides grandeur and sublimity, we find the totally different qualities of softness and tenderness. Rome had long known nothing but war, and was now rent by civil dissension. Lucretius yearned for peace; and his prayer, that the fabled goddess of all that is beautiful in nature would heal the wounds which discord had made, is distinguished by tenderness and pathos even more than by sublimity. He is superior to Ovid in force, though inferior in facility; not so smooth or harmonious as Virgil, his poetry always falls upon the ear with a swelling and sonorous melody. Virgil appreciated his excellence, and imitated not only single expressions, but almost entire verses and passages; and Ovid exclaims, that the sublime strains of Lucretius shall never perish until the world shall be given up to destruction.

5. LYRIC POETRY.—The Romans had not the ideality and the enthusiasm which are the elements of lyric poetry, and in all the range of their literature there are only two poets who, greatly inferior to the lyric poets of Greece, have a positive claim to a place in this department, Catullus and Horace. Catullus (86-46 B.C.) was born near Verona. At an early age he went to Rome, where he plunged into all the excesses of the capital, and where his sole occupation was the cultivation of his literary tastes and talents. A career of extravagance and debauchery terminated in the ruin of his fortune, and he died at the age of forty. The works of Catullus consist of numerous short pieces of a lyrical character, elegies and other poems. He was one of the most popular of the Roman poets, because he possessed those qualities which the literary society at Rome most valued, polish and learning, and because, although an imitator, there was a truly Roman nationality in all that he wrote. His satire was the bitter resentment of a vindictive spirit; his love and his hate were both purely selfish, but his excellences were of the most alluring and captivating kind. He has never been surpassed in gracefulness, melody, and tenderness.

Horace (65-8 B.C.), like Virgil and other poets of his time, enjoyed the friendship and intimacy of Maecenas, who procured for him the public grant of his Sabine farm, situated about fifteen miles from Tivoli. At Rome he occupied a house on the beautiful heights of the Esquiline. The rapid alternation of town and country life, which the fickle poet indulged in, gives a peculiar charm to his poetry. His "Satires" were followed by the publication of the "Odes" and the "Epistles." The satires of Horace occupied the position of the fashionable novel of our day. In them is sketched boldly, but good-humoredly, a picture of Roman social life, with its vices and follies. They have nothing of the bitterness of Lucilius, the love of purity and honor that adorns Persius, or the burning indignation of Juvenal at the loathsome corruption of morals. Vice, in his day, had not reached that appalling height which it attained in the time of the emperors who succeeded Augustus. Deficient in moral purity, nothing would strike him as deserving censure, except such excess as would actually defeat the object which he proposed to himself, namely, the utmost enjoyment of life. In the "Epistles," he lays aside the character of a moral teacher or censor, and writes with the freedom with which he would converse with an intimate friend. But it is in his inimitable "Odes" that the genius of Horace as a poet is especially displayed; they have never been equaled in beauty of sentiment, gracefulness of language, and melody of versification; they comprehend every variety of subject suitable to the lyric muse; they rise without effort to the most elevated topics; and they descend to the simplest joys and sorrows of every-day life.

The life of Horace is especially instructive, as a mirror in which is reflected a faithful image of the manners of his day. He is the representative of Roman refined society, as Virgil is of the national mind. His morals were lax, but not worse than those of his contemporaries. He looked at virtue and vice from a worldly, not from a moral point of view, and with him the one was prudence and the other folly.

In connection with Horace, we may mention Maecenas, who, by his good taste and munificence, exercised a great influence upon literature, and literary men of Rome were much indebted to him for the use he made of his friendship with Augustus, to whom, probably, his love of literature and of pleasure and his imperturbable temper recommended him as an agreeable companion. He had wealth enough to gratify his utmost wishes, and his mind was so full of the delights of refined society, of palaces, gardens, wit, poetry, and art, that there was no room in it for ambition. All the most brilliant men of Rome were found at his table,—Virgil, Horace, Propertius, and Varius were among his friends and constant associates. He was a fair specimen of the man of pleasure and society,—liberal, kind- hearted, clever, refined, but luxurious, self-indulgent, indolent, and volatile, with good impulses, but without principle.

6. ELEGY.—Tibullus (b. 54 B.C.) was the father of the Roman elegy. He was a contemporary of Virgil and Horace. The style of his poems and their tone of thought are like his character, deficient in vigor and manliness, but sweet, smooth, polished, tender, and never disfigured by bad taste. He passed his short life in peaceful retirement, and died soon after Virgil. The poems ascribed to Tibullus consist of four books, of which only two are genuine.

Propertius (b. 150 B.C.), although a contemporary and friend of the Augustan poets, may be considered as belonging to a somewhat different school of poetry. While Horace, Virgil, and Tibullus imitated the noblest poets of the Greek age, Propertius, like the minor Roman poets, aspired to nothing more than the imitation of the graceful, but feeble strains of the Alexandrian poets. If he excels Tibullus in vigor of fancy, expression, and coloring, he is inferior to him in grace, spontaneity, and delicacy; he cannot, also, be compared with Catullus, who greatly surpasses him in his easy and effective style.

Ovid (43 B.C.-6 A.D.), the most fertile of the Latin poets, not only in elegy, but also in other kinds of poetry, was enabled by his rank, fortune, and talents to cultivate the society of men of congenial tastes. A skeptic and an epicurean, he lived a life of continual indulgence and intrigue. He was a universal admirer of the female sex, and a favorite among women. He was popular as a poet, successful in society, and possessed all the enjoyments that wealth could bestow; but later in life he incurred the anger of Augustus, and was banished to the very frontier of the Roman empire, where he lingered for a few years and died in great misery. The "Epistles to and from Women of the Heroic Age" are a series of love-letters; with the exception of the "Metamorphoses," they have been greater favorites than any other of his works. Love, in the days of Ovid, had in it nothing pure or chivalrous. The age in which he lived was morally polluted, and he was neither better nor worse than his contemporaries; hence grossness is the characteristic of his "Art of Love." His "Metamorphoses" contain a series of mythological narratives from the earliest times to the translation of the soul of Julius Caesar from earth to heaven, and his metamorphosis into a star. In this poem especially may be traced that study and learning by which the Roman poets made all the treasures of Greek literature their own. "The Fasti," a poem on the Roman calendar, is a beautiful specimen of simple narrative in verse, and displays, more than any of his works, his power of telling a story without the slightest effort, in poetry as well as prose. The five books of the "Tristia," and the "Epistles from Pontus," were the outpourings of his sorrowful heart during the gloomy evening of his days.

7. ORATORY AND PHILOSOPHY.—As oratory gave to Latin prose-writing its elegance and dignity, Cicero (106-43 B.C.) is not only the representative of the flourishing period of the language, but also the instrumental cause of its arriving at perfection. He gave a fixed character to the Latin tongue; showed his countrymen what vigor it possessed, and of what elegance and polish it was susceptible. The influence of Cicero on the language and literature of his day was not only extensive, but permanent, and it survived almost until the language was corrupted by barbarism. After traveling in Greece and Asia, and holding a high office in Sicily, he returned to Rome, resumed his forensic practice, and was made consul. The conspiracy of Catiline was the great event of his consulship. The prudence and tact with which he crushed this gained him the applause and gratitude of his fellow-citizens, who hailed him as the father of his country; but he was obliged, by the intrigues of his enemies, to fly from Rome; his exile was decreed, and his town and country houses given up to plunder. He was, however, recalled, and appointed to a seat in the college of Augurs. In the struggle between Pompey and Caesar, he followed the fortunes of the former; but Caesar, after his triumph, granted him a full and free pardon. After the assassination of Caesar, Cicero delivered that torrent of indignant and eloquent invective, his twelve Philippic orations, and became again the popular idol; but when the second triumvirate was formed, and each member gave up his friends to the vengeance of his colleagues, Octavius did not hesitate to sacrifice Cicero. Betrayed by a treacherous freedman, he would not permit his attendants to make any resistance, but courageously submitted to the sword of the assassins, who cut off his head and hands, and carried them to Antony, whose wife, Julia, gloated with inhuman delight upon the pallid features, and in petty spite pierced with a needle the once eloquent tongue. Cicero had numerous faults; he was vain, vacillating, inconstant, timid, and the victim of morbid sensibility; but he was candid, truthful, just, generous, pure-minded, and warm-hearted. Gentle, sympathizing, and affectionate, he lived as a patriot and died as a philosopher.

The place which Cicero occupies in the history of Roman literature is that of an orator and philosopher. The effectiveness of his oratory was mainly owing to his knowledge of the human heart, and of the national peculiarities of his countrymen. Its charm was owing to his extensive acquaintance with the stores of literature and philosophy, which his sprightly wit moulded at will; to the varied learning, which his unpedantic mind made so pleasant and popular; and to his fund of illustration, at once interesting and convincing. He carried his hearers with him; senate, judges, and people understood his arguments, and felt his passionate appeals. Compared with the dignified energy and majestic vigor of Demosthenes, the Asiatic exuberance of some of his orations may be fatiguing to the more sober and chaste taste of modern scholars; but in order to form a just appreciation, we must transport ourselves mentally to the excitements of the thronged forum, to the senate, composed of statesmen and warriors in the prime of life, maddened with the party- spirit of revolutionary times. Viewed in this light, his most florid passages will appear free from affectation—the natural flow of a speaker carried away with the torrent of his enthusiasm. Among his numerous orations, in which, according to the criticisms of Quintilian, he combined the force of Demosthenes, the copiousness of Plato, and the elegance of Isocrates, we mention the six celebrated Verrian harangues, which are considered masterpieces of Tullian eloquence. In the speech for the poet Archias, he had evidently expended all his resources of art, taste, and skill; and his oration in defense of Milo, for force, pathos, and the externals of eloquence, deserves to be reckoned among his most wonderful efforts. The oratory of Cicero was essentially judicial; even his political orations are rather judicial than deliberative. He was not born for a politician; he did not possess that analytical character of mind which penetrates into the remote causes of human action, nor the synthetical power which enables a man to follow them out to their farthest consequences. Of the three qualities necessary for a statesman, he possessed only two,—honesty and patriotism; he had not political wisdom. Hence, in the finest specimens of his political orations, his Catilinarians and Philippics, we look in vain for the calm, practical weighing of the subject which is necessary in addressing a deliberative assembly. Nevertheless, so irresistible was the influence which he exercised upon the minds of his hearers, that all his political speeches were triumphs. His panegyric on Pompey carried his appointment as commander-in-chief of the armies of the East; he crushed in Catiline one of the most formidable traitors that had ever menaced the safety of the republic, and Antony's fall followed the complete exposure of his debauchery in private life, and the factiousness of his public career.

In his rhetorical works, Cicero left a legacy of practical instruction to posterity. The treatise "On Invention" is merely interesting as the juvenile production of a future great man. "The Orator," "Brutus, or the illustrious Orators," and "The Orator to Marius Brutus," are the results of his matured experience. They form together one series, in which the principles are laid down, and their development carried out and illustrated; and in the "Orator" he places before the eyes of Brutus the model of ideal perfection. In his treatment of that subject, he shows a mind imbued with the spirit of Plato; he invests it with dramatic interest, and transports the reader into the scene which he so graphically describes.

Roman philosophy was neither the result of original investigation, nor the gradual development of the Greek system. It arose rather from a study of ancient philosophical literature, than from an emanation of philosophical principles. It consisted in a kind of eclecticism with an ethical tendency, bringing together doctrines and opinions scattered over a wide field in reference to the political and social relations of man. Greek philosophy was probably first introduced into Rome 166 B.C. But although the Romans could appreciate the majestic dignity and poetical beauty of the style of Plato, they were not equal to the task of penetrating his hidden meaning; neither did the peripatetic doctrines meet with much favor. The philosophical system which first arrested the attention of the Romans, and gained an influence over their minds, was the Epicurean. That of the Stoics also, the severe principles of which were in harmony with the stern old Roman virtues, had distinguished disciples. The part which Cicero's character qualified him to perform in the philosophical instruction of his countrymen was scarcely that of a guide; he could give them a lively interest in the subject, but he could not mould and form their belief, and train them in the work of original investigation. Not being devoutly attached to any system of philosophical belief, he would be cautious of offending the philosophical prejudices of others. He was essentially an eclectic in accumulating stores of Greek erudition, while his mind had a tendency, in the midst of a variety of inconsistent doctrines, to leave the conclusion undetermined. He brought everything to a practical standard; he admired the exalted purity of stoical morality, but he feared that it was impractical. He believed in the existence of one supreme creator, in his spiritual nature, and the immortality of the soul; but his belief was rather the result of instinctive conviction, than of proof derived from philosophy.

The study of Cicero's philosophical works is invaluable, in order to understand the minds of those who came after him. Not only all Roman philosophy after his time, but a great part of that of the Middle Ages, was Greek philosophy filtered through Latin, and mainly founded on that of Cicero. Among his works on speculative philosophy are "The Academics, or a history and defense of the belief of the new Academy;" "Dialogues on the Supreme Good, the end of all moral action;" "The Tusculan Disputations," containing five treatises on the fear of death, the endurance of pain, power of wisdom over sorrow, the morbid passions, and the relation of virtue to happiness. His moral philosophy comprehends the "Duties," a stoical treatise on moral obligations, and the unequaled little essays on "Friendship and Old Age." His political works are "The Republic" and "The Law;" but these remains are fragmentary.

The extent of Cicero's correspondence is almost incredible. Even those epistles which remain number more than eight hundred. In them we find the eloquence of the heart, not of the rhetorical school. They are models of pure Latinity, elegant without stiffness, the natural outpourings of a mind which could not give birth to an ungraceful idea. In his letters to Atticus he lays bare the secret of his heart; he trusts his life in his hands; he is not only his friend but his confidant, his second self. In the letters of Cicero we have the description of the period of Roman history, and the portrait of the inner life of Roman society in his day.

8. HISTORY.—In their historical literature the Romans exhibited a faithful transcript of their mind and character. History at once gratified their patriotism, and its investigations were in accordance with their love of the real and the practical. In this department, they were enabled to emulate the Greeks and to be their rivals, and sometimes their superiors. The elegant simplicity of Caesar is as attractive as that of Herodotus; none of the Greek historians surpasses Livy in talent for the picturesque and in the charm with which he invests his spirited and living stories; while for condensation of thought, terseness of expression, and political and philosophical acumen, Tacitus is not inferior to Thucydides. The catalogue of Roman historians contains many writers whose works are lost; such as L. Lucretius, the friend and correspondent of Cicero, L. Lucullus, the illustrious conqueror of Mithridates, and Cornelius Nepos, of whom only one work was preserved, the "Lives of Eminent Generals." The authenticity of this work is, however, disputed. But at the head of this department, as the great representatives of Roman history, stand Julius Caesar, Sallust, Livy, and Tacitus, all of whom, except the last, belong to the Augustan age.

Julius Caesar (100-44 B.C.) was descended from one of the oldest among the patrician families of Rome. He attached himself to the popular party, and his good taste, great tact, and pleasing manners contributed, together with his talents, to insure his popularity. He became a soldier in the nineteenth year of his age, and hence his works display all the best qualities which are fostered by a military education—frankness, simplicity, and brevity. His earliest literary triumph was as an orator, and, according to Quintilian, he was a worthy rival of Cicero. When he obtained the office of Pontifex Maximus, he diligently examined the history and nature of the Roman belief in augury, and published his investigations. When his career as a military commander began, whatever leisure his duties permitted him to enjoy he devoted to the composition of his memoirs, or commentaries of the Gallic and civil wars. He wrote, also, some minor works on different subjects, and he left behind him various letters, some of which are extant.

But by far the most important of the works of Caesar is his "Commentaries," which have come down to us in a tolerably perfect state. They are sketches taken on the spot, in the midst of action, while the mind was full, and they have all the graphic power of a master-mind and the vigorous touches of a master-hand. The Commentaries are the materials for history, notes jotted down for future historians. The very faults which may justly be found with the style of Caesar are such as reflect the man himself. The majesty of his character consists chiefly in the imperturbable calmness and equanimity of his temper; he had no sudden bursts of energy and alternations of passion and inactivity. The elevation of his character was a high one, but it was a level table-land. This calmness and equability pervades his writings, and for this reason they have been thought to want life and energy. The beauty of his language is, as Cicero says, statuesque rather than picturesque. Simple and severe, it conveys the idea of perfect and well-proportioned beauty, while it banishes all thoughts of human passion. In relating his own deeds, he does not strive to add to his own reputation by detracting from the merits of those who served under him. He is honest, generous, and candid, not only towards them, but also towards his brave enemies. He recounts his successes without pretension or arrogance, though he has evidently no objection to be the hero of his own tale. His Commentaries are not confessions, although he is the subject of them; not a record of a weakness appears, nor even a defect, except that which the Romans would readily forgive, cruelty. His savage waste of human life he recounts with perfect self-complacency. Vanity, the crowning error in his career as a statesman, though hidden by the reserve with which he speaks of himself, sometimes discovers itself in the historian.

The Commentaries of Caesar have been compared with the work of the great soldier-historian of Greece, Xenophon. Both are eminently simple and unaffected, but there the parallel ends. The severe contempt of ornament, which characterizes the stern Roman, is totally unlike the mellifluous sweetness of the Attic writer.

Sallust (85-35 B.C.) was born of a plebeian family, but, having filled the offices of tribune and quaestor, attained senatorial rank. He was expelled from the Senate for his profligacy, but restored again to his rank through the influence of Caesar, whose party he espoused. He accompanied his patron in the African war, and was made governor of Numidia. While in that capacity, he accumulated by rapacity and extortion enormous wealth, which he lavished in expensive but tasteful luxury. The gardens on the Quirinal which bore his name were celebrated for their beauty; and there, surrounded by the choicest works of art, he devoted his retirement to composing the historical records which survived him. As a politician, he was a mere partisan of Caesar, and therefore a strenuous opponent of the higher classes and of the supporters of Pompey. The object of his hatred was not the old patrician blood of Rome, but the new aristocracy, which had of late years been rapidly rising up and displacing it. That new nobility was utterly corrupt, and its corruption was encouraged by the venality of the masses, whose poverty and destitution tempted them to be the tools of unscrupulous ambition. Sallust strove to place that party in the unfavorable light which it deserved; but, notwithstanding the truthfulness of the picture which he draws, selfishness and not patriotism was the mainspring of his politics; he was not an honest champion of popular rights, but a vain and conceited man, who lived in an immoral and corrupt age, and had not the strength of principle to resist the force of example and temptation. If, however, we make some allowance for the political bias of Sallust, his histories have not only the charms of the historical romance, but are also valuable political studies. His characters are vigorously and naturally drawn, and the more his histories are read, the more obvious it is that he always writes with an object, and uses his facts as the means of enforcing a great political lesson.

His first work is on the "Jugurthine War;" the next related to the period from the consulship of Lepidus to the praetorship of Cicero, and is unfortunately lost. This was followed by a history of the conspiracy of Catiline, "The War of Catiline," in which he paints in vivid colors the depravity of that order of society which, bankrupt in fortune and honor, still plumes itself on its rank and exclusiveness. To Sallust must be conceded the praise of having first conceived the notion of a history, in the true sense of the term. He was the first Roman historian, and the guide of future historians. He had always an object to which he wished all his facts to converge, and he brought them forward as illustrations and developments of principles. He analyzed and exposed the motives of parties, and laid bare the inner life of those great actors on the public stage, in the interesting historical scenes which he describes. His style, although ostentatiously elaborate and artificial, is, upon the whole, pleasing, and almost always transparently clear. Following Thucydides, whom he evidently took as his model, he strives to imitate his brevity; but while this quality with the Greek historian is natural and involuntary, with the Roman it is intentional and studied. The brevity of Thucydides is the result of condensation, that of Salust is elliptical expression.

Livy (59-18 B.C.) was born in Padua, and came to Rome during the reign of Augustus, where he resided in the enjoyment of the imperial favor and patronage. He was a warm and open admirer of the ancient institutions of the country, and esteemed Pompey as one of its greatest heroes; but Augustus did not allow political opinions to interfere with the regard which he entertained for the historian. His great work is a history of Rome, which he modestly terms "Annals," in one hundred and forty-two books, of which thirty-five are extant. Besides his history, Livy is said to have written treatises and dialogues, which were partly philosophical and partly historical.

The great object of Livy's history was to celebrate the glories of his native country, to which he was devotedly attached. He was a patriot: his sympathy was with Pompey, called forth by the disinterestedness of that great man, and perhaps by his sad end. He delights to put forth his powers in those passages which relate to the affections. He is a biographer quite as much as a historian; he anatomizes the moral nature of his heroes, and shows the motive springs of their noble exploits. His characters stand before us like epic heroes, and he tells his story like a bard singing his lay at a joyous festive meeting, checkered by alternate successes and reverses, though all tending to a happy result at last. But while these features constitute his charm as a narrator, they render him less valuable as a historian. Although he would not be willfully inaccurate, if the legend he was about to tell was interesting, he would not stop to inquire whether or not it was true. Taking upon trust the traditions which had been handed down from generation to generation, the more flattering and popular they were, the more suitable would he deem them for his purposes. He loved his country, and he would scarcely believe anything derogatory to the national glory. Whenever Rome was false to treaties, unmerciful in victory, or unsuccessful in arms, he either ignores the facts or is anxious to find excuses. He does not appear to have made researches into the many original documents which were extant at his time, but he trusted to the annalists, and took advantage of the investigations of preceding historians. His descriptions of military affairs are often vague and indistinct, and he often shows himself ignorant of the localities which he describes. Such are the principal defects of Livy, who otherwise charms his readers with his romantic narratives, and his lively, fresh, and fascinating style.

9. OTHER PROSE WRITERS.—Though the grammarians of this period were numerous, they added little or nothing to its literary reputation. The most conspicuous among them were Atteius, a friend of Sallust; Epirota, the correspondent of Cicero; Julius Hyginus, a friend of Ovid; and Nigidius Figulus, an orator as well as grammarian. M. Vitruvius Pollio, the celebrated architect, deserves to be mentioned for his treatise on architecture. He was probably native of Verona, and served under Julius Caesar in Africa, as a military engineer. Notwithstanding the defects of his style, the language of Vitruvius is vigorous, and his descriptions bold; his work is valuable as exhibiting the principles of Greek architectural taste and beauty, of which he was a devoted admirer.

PERIOD THIRD.

FROM THE DEATH OF AUGUSTUS TO THE CLOSE OF THE REIGN OF THEODORIC (14-526 A.D.).

1. DECLINE OF ROMAN LITERATURE.—With the death of Augustus began the decline of Roman literature, and a few names only rescue the first years of this period from the charge of a corrupt and vitiated taste. After a while, indeed, political circumstances again became more favorable; the dangers, which paralyzed genius and talent, and prevented their free exercise under Tiberius and his tyrannical successors, diminished, and a more liberal system of administration ensued under Vespasian and Titus. Juvenal and Tacitus then stood forth, as the representatives of the old Roman independence. Vigor of thought communicated itself to the language; a taste for the sublime and beautiful, to a certain extent, revived, although it did not attain to the perfection which shed a lustre over the Augustan age. Between the ages of Horace and Juvenal, Cicero and Tacitus, there was a gap of half a century, in which Roman genius was slumbering. The gradual growth of a spirit of adulation deterred all who were qualified for the task of the historian from attempting it. Fear, during the lifetime of Tiberius and Caligula, Claudius and Nero, and hatred, still fresh after their deaths, rendered all accounts of their reigns false. And the same causes which silenced the voice of history extinguished the genius of poetry and oratory. As liberty declined, natural eloquence decayed; the orator sought only to please the corrupt taste of his audiences with strange and exaggerated statements; the poet aimed to win public admiration through a style over-laden with ornament, and florid and diffuse descriptions. Literature, in order to flourish, requires the genial sunshine of human sympathy; it needs either the patronage of the great, or the favor of the people. Immediately after the death of Augustus, patronage was withdrawn, and there was no public sympathy to supply its place. In the reign of Nero, literature partially revived; for, though the bloodiest of tyrants, he had a taste for art and poetry, and an ambition to excel in refinement.

2. FABLE.—In fable, as in other fields of literature, Rome was an imitator of Greece, but nevertheless Phaedrus struck out a new line for himself, and, through his fables, became not only a moral instructor, but a political satirist. Phaedrus (fl. 16 A.D.), the originator and only author of Roman fable, though born in the reign of Augustus, wrote when the Augustan age had passed away. His works are, as it were, isolated; he had no contemporaries. Nevertheless, his solitary voice was lifted up when those of the poet, the historian, and the philosopher were silenced. The moral and political lessons conveyed in his fables were suggested by the evils of the times in which he lived. Some of them illustrate the danger of riches and the comparative safety of obscurity and poverty, in an age when the rich were marked for destruction, in order that the confiscation of their property might glut the avarice of the emperor and of his servants; others were suggested by historical events, being nevertheless satirical strictures on individuals. The style of Phaedrus is pure and classical, and combines the simple neatness and graceful elegance of the golden age with the vigor and terseness of the silver one. He has the facility of Ovid and the brevity of Tacitus. In the construction of his fables, he displays observation and ingenuity; but he is deficient in imagination. He makes his animals the vehicles of his wisdom, but he does not throw himself into them, or identify himself with them; while they look and act like animals, they talk like human beings. In this consists the great superiority of Aesop to his Roman imitator; his brutes are a superior race, but they are still brutes, and it would seem that the fabulist had lived among them as one of themselves, had adopted their mode of life, and conversed with them in their own language. In Phaedrus we have human sentiments translated into the language of beasts, while in Aesop we have beasts giving utterance to such sentiments as would be naturally theirs if they were placed in the position of men.

3. SATIRE AND EPIGRAM.—Roman satire, subsequently to Horace, is represented by Persius and Juvenal. Persius (34-62 A.D.) early attached himself to the Stoic philosophy. He was pure in mind, and free from the corrupt taint of an immoral age. Although Lucilius was, to a certain extent, his model, he does not attack vice with the biting severity of the old satirist, nor do we find in his writings the enthusiastic indignation which burns in the verses of Juvenal. His purity of mind and kindliness of heart disinclined him to portray vice in its hideous and loathsome forms, and to indulge in that bitterness of invective which the prevalent enormities of his times deserved. His uprightness and love of virtue are shown by the uncompromising severity with which he rebukes sins of not so deep a dye; and the heart which was capable of being moulded by his example, and influenced by his purity, would have shrunk from the fearful crimes which deform the pages of Juvenal. The greatest defect in Persius, as a satirist, is that the Stoic philosophy in which he was educated rendered him indifferent to the affairs of the world. His contemplative habits led him to criticise, as his favorite subjects, false taste in poetry and empty pretensions to philosophy. Horace mingled in the society of the profligate and considering them as fools, laughed their folly to scorn. Juvenal looked down upon the corruption of the age from the eminence of his virtue, and punished it like an avenging deity. Persius, pure in heart and passionless by education, while he lashes wickedness in the abstract, almost ignores its existence, and shrinks from probing to the bottom the vileness of the human heart. His works comprise six satires, all of which breathe the natural amiability and placid cheerfulness of his temper.

Juvenal flourished in the reign of Domitian, towards the close of the first century A.D., a dark period, which saw the utter moral degradation of the people, and the bloodiest tyranny and oppression on the part of their rulers. The picture of Roman manners, as painted by his glowing pencil, is truly appalling. The fabric of society was in ruins, the popular religion was rejected with scorn, and the creed of natural religion had not occupied its place. The emperors took part in public scenes of folly and profligacy, and exposed themselves as charioteers, as dancers, and as actors. Nothing was respected but wealth, nothing provoked contempt but poverty. Players and dancers had all honors and offices at their disposal; the city swarmed with informers, who made the rich their prey; every man feared his most intimate friend, and the only bond of friendship was to be an accomplice in crime. The teacher would corrupt his pupil, and the guardian defraud his ward. Crimes which cannot be named were common, and the streets of Rome were the constant scene of robbery, assault, and assassination. The morals of women were as depraved as those of men, and there was no public amusement so immoral or so cruel as not to be countenanced by their presence. In this period of moral dearth, the fountains of genius and literature were dried up. There was criticism, declamation, panegyric, and verse writing, but no oratory, history, or poetry. Juvenal, though himself not free from the declamatory affectation of the day, attacked the false literary taste of his contemporaries as unsparingly as he did their depraved morality. His sixteen satires exhibit an enlightened, truthful, and comprehensive view of Roman manners, and of the inevitable result of such depravity. The two finest of them are those which Dr. Johnson has thought worthy of imitation.

The historical value of these satires must not be forgotten. Tacitus lived in the same perilous times as Juvenal, and when they had come to an end and it was not unsafe to speak, he wrote their public history, which the poet illustrates by displaying the social and inner life of the Romans. Their works are parallel, and each forms a commentary upon the other. The style of Juvenal is vigorous and lucid; his morals were pure in the midst of a debased age, and his language shines forth in classic elegance, in the midst of specimens of declining and degenerate taste.

Juvenal closes the list of Roman satirists, properly speaking. The satirical spirit animates the piquant epigrams of his friend Martial, but their purpose is not moral or didactic. They sting the individual, and render him an object of scorn and disgust, but they do not hold up vice itself to ridicule and detestation.

Martial (43-104 A.D.) was born in Spain. He early emigrated to Rome, where he became a favorite of Titus and Domitian, and in the reign of the latter he was appointed to the office of court-poet. During thirty-five years, he lived at Rome the life of a flatterer and a dependent, and then he returned to his native town, where his death was hastened by his distaste for provincial life. Measured by the corrupt standard of morals which disgraced the age in which he lived, Martial was probably not worse than most of his contemporaries; for the fearful profligacy, which his powerful pen describes in such hideous terms, had spread through Rome its loathsome infection. Had he lived in better times, his talents might have been devoted to a purer object; as it was, no language is strong enough to denounce the impurities of his page, and his moral taste must have been thoroughly depraved not to have turned with disgust from the contemplation of such subjects. But not all his poems are of this character. Amidst some obscurity of style and want of finish, many are redolent of Greek sweetness and elegance. Here and there are pleasing descriptions of the beauties of nature, and many are kind-hearted and full of varied wit, poetical imagination, and graceful expression. To the original characteristics of the Greek epigram, Martial, more than any other poet, added that which constitutes an epigram in the modern sense of the term: pointedness either in jest or earnest, and the bitterness of personal satire.

4. DRAMATIC LITERATURE.—Dramatic literature never flourished in Rome, and still less under the empire. During this period there were not wanting some imitators of Greece in this noble branch of poetry, but their productions were rather literary than dramatic; they were poems composed in a dramatic form, intended to be read, not acted. They contain noble philosophical sentiments, lively descriptions, and passages full of tenderness and pathos, but they are deficient in dramatic effect, and positively offend against those laws of good taste which regulated the Athenian stage. In the Augustan age, a few writers attained some excellence in tragedy, at least in the opinion of ancient critics.

Under the tyrant Nero, dramatic literature reappeared, specimens of which are extant in the ten tragedies attributed to Seneca. But the genius of the author never grasps, in their wholeness, the characters which he attempts to copy; they are distorted images of the Greek originals, and the shadowy grandeur of the godlike heroes of Aeschylus stands forth in corporeal vastness, and appears childish and unnatural, like the giants of a story-book. The Greeks believed in the gods and heroes whose agency and exploits constituted the machinery of tragedy, but the Romans did not, and we cannot sympathize with them, because we see that they are insincere.

An awful belief in destiny, and the hopeless yet patient struggle of a great and good man against this all-ruling power, are the mainspring of Greek tragedy. This belief the Romans did not transfer into their imitations, but they supplied its place with the stern fatalism of the Stoics. The principle of destiny entertained by the Greek poets is a mythological, even a religious one. It is the irresistible will of God. God is at the commencement of the chain of causes and effects, by which the event is brought about which God has ordained; his inspired prophets have power to foretell, and mortals cannot resist or avoid. It is rather predestination than destiny. The fatalism of the Stoics, on the other hand, is the doctrine of practical necessity. It ignores the almighty power of the Supreme Being, and although it does not deny his existence, it strips him of his attributes as the moral governor of the universe. These doctrines, expressed equally in the writings of Seneca the philosopher, and in the tragedies attributed to him, lead to the probability, amounting almost to certainty, that he was their author. But whatever be the case in regard to their authorship, it is certain that, notwithstanding their false rhetorical taste and the absence of all ideal and creative genius, they have found many admirers and imitators in modern times. The French school of tragic poets took them for their model; Corneille evidently considered them the ideal of tragedy, and Racine servilely imitated them.

5. EPIC POETRY.—At the head of the epic poets who flourished during the Silver Age, stands Lucan (39-66 A.D.). He was born at Cordova, in Spain, and probably came to Rome when very young, where his literary reputation was soon established. But Nero, who could not bear the idea of a rival, forbade him to recite his poems, then the common mode of publication. Neither would he allow him to plead as an advocate. Smarting under this provocation, he joined in a conspiracy against the emperor's life. The plot failed, but Lucan was pardoned on condition of pointing out his confederates, and in the vain hope of saving himself from the monster's vengeance, he actually impeached his mother. This noble woman was incapable of treason. Tacitus says, "the scourge, the flames, the rage of the executioners who tortured her the more savagely, lest they should be scorned by a woman, were powerless to extort a false confession." Lucan never received the reward which he purchased by treachery. When the warrant for his death was issued, he caused his veins to be cut asunder, and expired in the twenty-seventh year of his age.

The only one of his works which survives is the "Pharsalia," an epic poem on the subject of the civil war between Caesar and Pompey. It bears evident marks of having been left unfinished; it has great faults and at the same time great beauties. The sentiments contained in this poem breathe a love of freedom and an attachment to the old Roman republicanism. Its subject is a noble one, full of historic interest, and it is treated with spirit, brilliancy, and animation. The characters of Caesar and Pompey are masterpieces; but while some passages are scarcely inferior to any written by the best Latin poets, others have neither the dignity of prose, nor the melody of poetry. Description forms the principal feature in the poetry of Lucan; in fact, it constitutes one of the characteristic features of Roman literature in its decline, because poetry had become more than ever an art, and the epoch one of erudition.

Silius Italicus (fl. 54 A.D.) was the favorite and intimate of two emperors, Nero and Vitellius. He left a poem, the "Punica," which contains the history in heroic verse of the second Punic war. The Aeneid of Virgil was his model, and the narrative of Livy furnished his materials. It is considered the dullest and most tedious poem in the Latin language though its versification is harmonious, and will often, in point of smoothness, bear comparison with that of Virgil.

Valerius Flaccus flourished in the reign of Vespasian. He is author of the "Argonautica," an imitation and in some parts a translation of the Greek poem of Apollonius Rhodius on the same subject. He evidently did not live to complete his original design. In the Argonautica there are no glaring faults or blemishes, but there is also no genius, no inspiration. He has some talents as a descriptive poet; his versification is harmonious and his style graceful.

P. Statius (61-95 A.D.) was the author of the Silviae, Thebaid, and Achilleid. The "Silviae" are the rude materials of thought springing up spontaneously in all their wild luxuriance, from the rich, natural soil of the imagination of the poet. The subject of the "Thebaid" is the ancient Greek legend respecting the war of the Seven against Thebes, and the "Achilleid" was intended to embrace all the exploits of Achilles, but only two books were completed. The poems of Statius contain many poetical incidents, which might stand by themselves as perfect fugitive pieces. In these we see his natural and unaffected elegance, his harmonious ear, and the truthfulness of his perceptions. But, as an epic poet, he has neither grasp of mind nor vigor of conception; his imaginary heroes do not inspire and warm his imagination; and his genius was unable to rise to the highest departments of art.

6. HISTORY.—For the reasons already stated, Rome for a long period could boast of no historian; the perilous nature of the times, and the personal obligations under which learned men frequently were to the emperors, rendered contemporary history a means of adulation and servility. To this class of historians belongs Paterculus (fl. 30 A.D.), who wrote a history of Rome which is partial, prejudiced, and adulatory. He was a man of lively talents, and his taste was formed after the model of Sallust, of whom he was an imitator. His style is often overstrained and unnatural.

Under the genial and fostering influence of the Emperor Trajan, the fine arts, especially architecture, flourished, and literature revived. The same taste and execution which are visible in the bas-reliefs on the column of Trajan adorn the literature of his age as illustrated by its two great lights, Tacitus and the younger Pliny. There is not the rich, graceful manner which invests with such a charm the writers of the Golden Age, but the absence of these qualities is amply compensated by dignity, gravity, and honesty. Truthfulness beams throughout the writings of these two great contemporaries, and incorruptible virtue is as visible in the pages of Tacitus as benevolence and tenderness are in the letters of Pliny. They mutually influenced each other's characters and principles; their tastes and pursuits were similar; they loved each other dearly, corresponded regularly, corrected each other's works, and accepted patiently and gratefully each other's criticism.

Tacitus (60-135 A.D.) was of equestrian rank, and served in several important offices of the empire. His works now extant are a life of his father-in-law, Agricola, a tract on the manners and nations of the Germans, a small portion of a voluminous work entitled "Histories," about two thirds of another historical work, entitled "Annals," and a dialogue on the decline of eloquence. The life of Agricola, though a panegyric rather than a biography, is a beautiful specimen of the vigor and force of expression with which this greatest painter of antiquity could throw off any portrait which he attempted. Even if the likeness be somewhat flattered, the qualities which the writer possessed, his insight into character, his pathetic power, and his affectionate heart, render this short piece one of the most attractive biographies extant. The treatise on the "Geography, Manners, and Nations of Germany," though containing geographical descriptions often vague and inaccurate, and accounts evidently founded on mere tales of travelers, bears the impress of truth in the salient points and characteristic features of the national manners and institutions of Teutonic nations. The "Histories," his earliest historical work, of which only four books and a portion of the fifth are extant, extended from the year 69 to 96 A.D., and it was his intention to include the reigns of Nero and Trajan. In this work he proposed to investigate the political state of the commonwealth, the feeling of its armies, the sentiments of its provinces, the elements of its strength and weakness, and the causes and reasons for each historical phenomenon. The principal fault which diminishes the value of his history as a record of events is his too great readiness to accept evidence unhesitatingly, and to record popular rumors without taking sufficient pains to examine into their truth. His incorrect account of the history, constitution, and manners of the Jewish people is one among the few instances of this fault, scattered over a vast field of faithful history. The "Annals" consist of sixteen books; they begin with the death of Augustus, and conclude with that of Nero (14-68 A.D.). The object of Tacitus was to describe the influence which the establishment of tyranny on the ruins of liberty exercised for good or for evil in bringing out the character of the individual. In the extinction of freedom there still existed in Rome bright examples of heroism and courage, and instances not less prominent of corruption and degradation. In the annals of Tacitus these individuals stand out in bold relief, either singly or in groups upon the stage, while the emperor forms the principal figure, and the moral sense of the reader is awakened to admire instances of patient suffering and determined bravery, or to witness abject slavery and remorseless despotism.

Full of sagacious observation and descriptive power, Tacitus engages the most serious attention of the reader by the gravity of his condensed and comprehensive style, as he does by the wisdom and dignity of his reflections. Living amidst the influences of a corrupt age, he was uncontaminated. By his virtue and integrity, and his chastened political liberality, he commands our admiration as a man, while his love of truth is reflected in his character as a historian. In his style, the form is always subordinate to the matter; his sentences are suggestive of far more than they express, and his brevity is enlivened by copiousness, variety, and poetry; his language is highly figurative; his descriptions of scenery and incidents are eminently picturesque, his characters dramatic, and the expression of his own sentiments almost lyrical.

Suetonius was born about 69 A.D. His principal extant works are the "Lives of the Twelve Caesars," "Notices of Illustrious Grammarians and Rhetoricians," and the Lives of the Poets Terence, Horace, Persius, Lucan, and Juvenal. The use which he makes of historical documents proves that he was a man of diligent research, and, as a biographer, industrious and careful. He indulges neither in ornament of style nor in romantic exaggeration. The pictures which he draws of some of the Caesars are indeed terrible, but they are fully supported by the contemporary authority of Juvenal and Tacitus. As a historian, Suetonius had not that comprehensive and philosophical mind which would qualify him for taking an enlarged view of his subject; he has no definite plan or method, and wanders at will from one subject to another just as the idea seizes him.

Curtius is considered by some writers as belonging to the Silver Age, and by others to a later period. His biography of Alexander the Great is deeply interesting. It is a romance rather than a history. He never loses an opportunity, by the coloring which he gives to historical facts, of elevating the Macedonian conqueror to a super-human standard. His florid and ornamented style is suitable to the imaginary orations which are introduced in the narrative, and which constitute the most striking portions of the work.

Valerius Maximus flourished during the reign of Tiberius. His work is a collection of anecdotes entitled "Memorable Sayings and Deeds," the object of which was to illustrate by examples the beauty of virtue and the deformity of vice. The style is prolix and declamatory, and characterized by awkward affectation and involved obscurity.

7. RHETORIC AND ELOQUENCE.—Under the empire, schools of rhetoric were multiplied, as harmless as tyranny could desire. In these the Roman youth learned the means by which the absence of natural endowments could be compensated. The students composed their speeches according to the rules of rhetoric; they were then corrected, committed to memory, and recited, partly with a view to practice, partly in order to amuse an admiring audience. Nor were these declamations confined to mere students. Public recitations had, since the days of Juvenal, been one of the crying nuisances of the times. Seneca, the father of the philosopher of the same name, a famous rhetorician himself, left two works containing a series of exercises in oratory, which show the hollow and artificial system of those schools. He was born in Cordova in Spain (61 A.D.), and as a professional rhetorician amassed a considerable fortune.

Quintilian (40-118 A.D.) was the most distinguished teacher of rhetoric of this age. He attempted to restore a purer and more classical taste, but, although to a certain extent he was successful, the effect which he produced was only temporary. For the instruction of his elder son he wrote his great work, "Institutes of Oratory," a complete system of instruction in the art of oratory; and in it he shows himself far superior to Cicero as a teacher, though he was inferior to him as an orator.

His work is divided into twelve books, in which he traces the progress of the orator from the very cradle until he arrives at perfection. In this monument of his taste and genius he fully and completely exhausted the subject, and left a text-book of the science and art of nations, as well as a masterly sketch of the eloquence of antiquity.

The disposition of Quintilian was as affectionate and tender as his genius was brilliant and his taste pure; few passages throughout the whole range of Latin literature can be compared to that in which he mourns the loss of his wife and children. It is the touching eloquence of one who could not write otherwise than gracefully.

Among the pupils of Quintilian, Pliny the younger took the highest place in the literature of his age. He was born in Como, 61 A.D., and adopted and educated by his maternal uncle, the elder Pliny. He attained great celebrity as a pleader, and stood high in favor with the emperor. His works consist of a panegyric on Trajan, and a collection of letters in ten books. The panegyric is a piece of courtly flattery in accordance with the cringing and fawning manners of the times. The letters are very valuable, not only for the insight which they give into his own character, but also into the manners and modes of thought of his illustrious contemporaries, as well as the politics of the day. For liveliness, descriptive power, elegance, and simplicity of style, they are scarcely inferior to those of Cicero, whom he evidently took for his model. These letters show how accurate and judicious was the mind of Pliny, how prudent his administration in the high offices which he filled under the reign of Trajan, and how refined his taste for the beautiful. The tenth book, which consists of the letters to Trajan, together with the emperor's rescripts, will be read with the greatest interest. The following passages from his dispatch respecting the Christians, written while he was procurator of the province of Bithynia, and the emperor's answer, are worthy of being transcribed, both because reference is so often made to them, and because they throw light upon the marvelous and rapid propagation of the gospel, the manners of the early Christians, the treatment to which their constancy exposed them, and the severe jealousy with which they were regarded:—

"It is my constant practice, sire, to refer to you all subjects on which I entertain doubt. For who is better able to direct my hesitation, or to instruct my ignorance? I have never been present at the trials of Christians, and, therefore, I do not know in what way, or to what extent it is usual to question or to punish them. I have also felt no small difficulty in deciding whether age should make any difference, or whether those of the tenderest and those of mature years should be treated alike; whether pardon should be accorded to repentance, or whether, where a man has once been a Christian, recantation should profit him; whether, if the name of Christian does not imply criminality, still the crimes peculiarly belonging to the name should be punished. Meanwhile, in the case of those against whom informations have been laid before me, I have pursued the following line of conduct: I have put to them, personally, the question whether they were Christians. If they confessed, I interrogated them a second and third time, and threatened them with punishment. If they still persevered, I ordered their commitment; for I had no doubt whatever, that whatever they confessed, at any rate, dogged and inflexible obstinacy deserved to be punished. There were others who displayed similar madness; but, as they were Roman citizens, I ordered them to be sent back to the city. Soon, persecution itself, as is generally the case, caused the crime to spread, and it appeared in new forms. An anonymous information was laid against a large number of persons, but they deny that they are, or ever have been, Christians. As they invoked the gods, repeating the form after me, and offered prayer with incense and wine, to your image, which I had ordered to be brought together with those of the deities, and besides, cursed Christ, while those who are true Christians, it is said, cannot be compelled to do any one of these things, I thought it right to set them at liberty. Others, when accused by an informer, confessed that they were Christians, and soon after denied the fact. They said they had been, but had ceased to be, some three, some more, not a few even twenty years previously. All these worshiped your image and those of the gods, and cursed Christ. But they affirmed that the sum-total of their fault, or their error, was that they were accustomed to assemble on a fixed day, before dawn, and sing an antiphonal hymn to Christ as God; that they bound themselves by an oath, not to the commission of any wickedness, but to abstain from theft, robbery, and adultery; never to break a promise, or to deny a deposit, when it was demanded back. When these ceremonies were concluded, it was their custom to depart, and again assemble together to take food harmlessly and in common. That after my proclamation, in which, in obedience to your command, I had forbidden associations, they had desisted from this practice. For these reasons, I the more thought it necessary to investigate the real truth, by putting to the torture two maidens who were called deaconesses; but I discovered nothing, but a perverse and excessive superstition. I have, therefore, deferred taking cognizance of the matter until I had consulted you; for it seemed to me a case requiring advice, especially on account of the number of those in peril. For many of every age, sex, and rank are, and will continue to be called in question. The infection, in fact, has spread not only through the cities, but also through the villages and open country; but it seems that its progress can be arrested. At any rate, it is clear that the temples, which were almost deserted, begin to be frequented; and solemn sacrifices, which had been long intermitted, are again performed, and victims are being sold everywhere, for which, up to this time, a purchaser could rarely be found. It is, therefore, easy to conceive that crowds might be reclaimed, if an opportunity for repentance were given."

Trajan to Pliny: "In sifting the cases of those who have been indicted on the charge of Christianity, you have adopted, my dear Secundus, the right course of proceeding; for no certain rule can be laid down which will meet all cases. They must not be sought after, but if they are informed against, and convicted, they must be punished; with this proviso, however, that if any deny that he is a Christian, and proves the point by offering prayers to our deities, notwithstanding the suspicions under which he has labored, he shall be pardoned on his repentance. On no account should any anonymous charges be attended to, for it would be the worst possible precedent, and is inconsistent with the habits of our time."

8. PHILOSOPHY AND SCIENCE.—Philosophy, and particularly moral philosophy, became a necessary study at this time, when the popular religion had lost its influence. In the general ruin of public and private morals, virtuous men found in this science a guide in the dangers by which they were continually threatened, and a consolation in all their sorrows. The Stoic among the other schools met with most favor from this class of men, for it offered better security against the evils of life, and taught men how to take shelter from baseness and profligacy under the influence of virtue and courage. The doctrines of the Stoics suited the rigid sternness of the Roman character. They embodied that spirit of self-devotion and self- denial with which the Roman patriot, in the old times of simple republican virtue, threw himself into his public duties, and they enabled him to meet death with a courageous spirit in this degenerate age, in which many of the best and noblest willingly died by their own hands, at the imperial mandate, in order to save their name from infamy, and their inheritance from confiscation.

Seneca, (12-69 A.D.), a native of Cordova in Spain, was the greatest philosopher of this age. He early displayed great talent as a pleader, but in the reign of Claudius he was banished to Corsica, where he solaced his exile with the study of the Stoic philosophy; and though its severe precepts exercised no moral influence on his conduct, he not only professed himself a Stoic, but imagined that he was one. A few years after, he was recalled by Agrippina, to become tutor to her son Nero. He was too unscrupulous a man of the world to attempt the correction of the vicious propensities of his pupil, or to instill into him high principles. After the accession of Nero, he endeavored to arrest his depraved career, but it was too late. Seneca had, by usury and legacy-hunting, amassed one of those large fortunes of which so many instances are met with in Roman history; feeling the dangers of wealth, he offered his property to Nero, who refused it, but resolved to rid himself of his former tutor, and easily found a pretext for his destruction. In adversity the character of Seneca shone with brighter lustre. Though he had lived ill, he could die well. He met the messengers of death without trembling. His noble wife, Paulina, determined to die with him. The veins of both were opened at the same time, but the little blood which remained in his emaciated frame refused to flow. He suffered excruciating agony. A warm bath was tried, but in vain; and a draught of poison was equally ineffectual. At last he was suffocated by the vapor of a stove.

Seneca lived in a perilous atmosphere. He had not firmness to act up to the high moral standard which he proposed to himself. He was avaricious, but avarice was the great sin of his times. The education of one who was a brute rather than a man was a task to which no one would have been equal; he therefore retained the influence which he had not the uprightness to command, by miserable and sinful expedients. He had great abilities, and some of the noble qualities of the old Romans; and had he lived in the days of the republic, he would have been a great man.

Seneca was the author of twelve ethical treatises, the best of which are entitled, "On Providence," "On Consolation," and "On the Perseverance of Wise Men." He cared little for abstract speculation, and delighted to inculcate precepts rather than to investigate principles. He was always a favorite with Christian writers, and some of his sentiments are truly Christian. There is even a tradition that he was acquainted with St. Paul. He may unconsciously have imbibed some of the principles of Christianity. The gospel had already made great and rapid strides over the civilized world, and thoughtful minds may have been enlightened by some of the rays of divine truth dispersed by the moral atmosphere, just as we are benefited by the light of the sun, even when its disk is obscured by clouds. His epistles, of which there are one hundred and twenty-four, are moral essays, and are the most delightful of his works. They are evidently written for the public eye; they are rich in varied thought, and their reflections flow naturally, and without effort. They contain a free and unconstrained picture of his mind, and we see in them how he despised verbal subtleties, the external badges of a sect or creed, and insisted that the great end of science is to learn how to live and how to die. The style of Seneca is too elaborate to please. It is affected, often florid, and bombastic; there is too much sparkle and glitter, too little repose and simplicity.

Pliny the elder (A.D. 23-79) was born probably at Como, the family residence. He was educated at Rome, where he practiced at the bar, and filled different civil offices. He perished a martyr to the cause of science, in the eruption of Vesuvius, which took place in the reign of Titus, the first of which there is any record in history. The circumstances of his death are described by his nephew, Pliny the younger, in two letters to Tacitus. He was at Misenum, in command of the fleet, when, observing the first indications of the eruption, and wishing to investigate it more closely, he fitted out a light galley, and sailed towards the villa of a friend at Stabiae. He found his friend in great alarm, but Pliny remained tranquil and retired to rest. Meanwhile, broad flames burst forth from the volcano, the blaze was reflected from the sky, and the brightness was enhanced by the darkness of the night. Repeated shocks of an earthquake made the houses rock to and fro, while in the air the fall of half burnt pumice-stones menaced danger. He was awakened, and he and his friend, with their attendants, tied cushions over their heads to protect them from the falling stones, and walked out to see if they might venture on the water. It was now day, but the darkness was denser than the darkest night, the sea was a waste of stormy waters, and when at last the flames and the sulphureous smell could no longer be endured, Pliny fell dead, suffocated by the dense vapor.

The natural history of Pliny is an unequaled monument of studious diligence and persevering industry. It consists of thirty-seven books, and contains 20,000 facts (as he believed them to be) connected with nature and art, the result not of original research, but, as he honestly confessed, culled from the labors of other men.

Owing to the extent of his reading, his love of the marvelous, and his want of judgment in comparing and selecting, he does not present us with a correct view of the science of his own age. He reproduces errors evidently obsolete and inconsistent with facts and theories which had afterwards replaced them. With him, mythological traditions appeared to have almost the same authority as modern discoveries; the earth teems with monsters, not exceptions to the regular order of nature, but specimens of her ingenuity. His peculiar pantheistic belief prepared him to consider nothing incredible, and his temper inclined him to admit all that was credible as true.

He tells us of men whose feet were turned backwards, of others whose feet were so large as to shade them when they lay in the sun; others without mouths, who fed on the fragrance of fruits and flowers. Among the lower animals, he enumerates horned horses furnished with wings; the mantichora, with the face of a man, three rows of teeth, a lion's body, and a scorpion's tail; the basilisk, whose very glance is fatal; and an insect which cannot live except in the midst of the flames. But notwithstanding his credulity and his want of judgment, this elaborate work contains many valuable truths and much entertaining information. The prevailing character of his philosophical belief, though tinctured with the stoicism of the day, is querulous and melancholy. Believing that nature is an all- powerful principle, and the universe instinct with deity, he saw more of evil than of good in the divine dispensation, and the result was a gloomy and discontented pantheism.

Celsus probably lived in the reign of Tiberius. He was the author of many works, on various subjects, of which one, in eight books, on medicine, is now extant. The independence of his views, the practical, as well as the scientific nature of his instructions, and above all, his knowledge of surgery, and his clear exposition of surgical operations, have given his work great authority; the highest testimony is borne to its merits by the fact of its being used as a text-book, even in the present advanced state of medical science. The taste of the age in which he lived turned his attention also to polite literature, and to that may be ascribed the Augustan purity of his style.

Pomponius Mela lived in the reign of Claudius. He is considered as the representative of the Roman geographers. Though his book, "The Place of the World," is but an epitome of former treatises, it is interesting for the simplicity of its style and the purity of its language.

Columella flourished in the reigns of Claudius and Nero. He is author of an agricultural work, "De Re Rustica," in which he gives, in smooth and fluent, though somewhat too diffuse a style, the fullest and completest information on practical agriculture among the Romans in the first century of the Christian era.

Frontinus (fl. 78 A.D.) left two valuable works, one on military tactics, the other a descriptive architectural treatise on those wonderful monuments of Roman art, the aqueducts. Besides these, there are extant fragments of other works on surveying, and on the laws and customs relating to landed property, which assign Frontinus an important place in the estimation of the students of Roman history.

9. ROMAN LITERATURE FROM HADRIAN TO THEODORIC (138-526 A.D.).—From the death of Augustus, Roman literature had gradually declined, and though it shone forth for a time with classic radiance in the writings of Persius, Juvenal, Quintilian, Tacitus, and the Plinies, with the death of freedom, the extinction of patriotism, and the decay of the national spirit, nothing could avert its fall. Poetry had become declamation; history had degenerated either into fulsome panegyric or the fleshless skeletons of epitomes; and at length the Romans seemed to disdain the use of their native tongue, and wrote again in Greek, as they had in the infancy of the national literature. The Emperor Hadrian resided long at Athens, and became imbued with a taste and admiration for Greek; and thus the literature of Rome became Hellenized. From this epoch the term classical can no longer be applied to it, for it no longer retained its purity. To Greek influence succeeded the still more corrupting one of foreign nations. With the death of Nerva, the uninterrupted succession of emperors of Roman or Italian birth ceased. Trajan himself was a Spaniard, and after him not only foreigners of every European race, but even Orientals and Africans were invested with the imperial purple, and the huge empire over which they ruled was one unwieldy mass of heterogeneous materials. The literary influence of the capital was not felt in the interior portions of the Roman dominions. Schools were established in the very heart of nations just emerging from barbarism; and though the blessings of civilization and intellectual culture were thus distributed far and wide, still literary taste, as it flowed through the minds of foreigners, became corrupted, and the language of the imperial city, exposed to the infecting contact of barbarous idioms, lost its purity.

The Latin authors of this age were numerous, but few had taste to appreciate and imitate the literature of the Augustan age. They may be classified according to their departments of poetry, history, grammar and oratory, philosophy and science.

The brightest star of the poetry of this period was Claudian (365-404 A.D.), in whom the graceful imagination of classical antiquity seems to have revived. He enjoyed the patronage of Stilicho, the guardian and minister of Honorius, and in the praise and honor of him and of his pupil, he wrote "The Rape of Proserpine," the "War of the Giants," and several other poems.

His descriptions indicate a rich and powerful imagination, but, neglecting substance for form, his style is often declamatory and affected. Among the earliest authors of Christian hymns were Hilarius and Prudentius, Those of the former were expressly designed to be sung, and are said to have been set to music by the author himself. Prudentius (fl. 348 A.D.) wrote many hymns and poems in defense of the Christian faith, more distinguished for their pious and devotional character than for their lyric sublimity or parity of language. To this age belong also the hymns of Damasus and of Ambrose.

Among the historians are Flavius Eutropius, who lived in the fourth century, and by the direction of the Emperor Valens composed an "Epitome of Roman History," which was a favorite book in the Middle Ages. Ammianus Marcellinus, his contemporary, wrote a Roman history in continuation of Tacitus and Suetonius. Though his style is affected and often rough and inaccurate, his work is interesting for its digressions and observations. Severus Sulpicius wrote the history of the Hebrews, and of the four centuries of the church. His "Sacred History," for its language and style, is one of the best works of that age.

In the department of oratory may be mentioned Cornelius Fronto, who flourished under Domitian and Nerva, and was endowed with a rich imagination and a mind stored with vast erudition in Greek and Latin literature, Symmachus, distinguished for his opposition to Christianity, and Cassiodorus, minister and secretary of the Emperor Theodoric.

In the decline of Roman, as of Greek literature, grammarians took the place of poets and of historians; they commented on and interpreted the ancient classics, and transmitted to us valuable information concerning the Augustan writers. Among the most important works of this kind are the "Attic Nights" of Gellius, who was born in Rome, and lived under Hadrian and the Antonines. In this work are preserved many valuable passages of the classics which would otherwise have been lost. Macrobius, who flourished in the middle of the fifth century, was the author of different works in which the doctrines of the Neo-Platonic school are expounded. His style, however, is very defective.

A striking characteristic of the writings, both in Greek and Latin, of the last ages of the empire, is the prevalence of principles and opinions imported from the East. The Neo-Platonic school, imbued with Oriental mysticism, had diffused the belief in spirits and magic, and the philosophy of this age was a mixture of ancient wisdom with new superstitions belonging to the ages of transition between the decadence of the ancient faith and the development of a new religion. The best representative of the philosophy of this age is Apuleius, born in Africa in the reign of Hadrian. After having received his education in Carthage and Athens, he came to Rome, where he acquired great reputation as a literary man, and as the possessor of extraordinary supernatural powers. To this extensive philosophical knowledge and immense erudition he united great polish of manner and remarkable beauty of person. He wrote much on philosophy; but his most important work is a romance known as "Metamorphoses, or the Golden Ass," containing his philosophical and mystic doctrines. In this book, the object of which is to encourage the belief in mysticism, the writer describes the transformation of a young man into an ass, who is allowed to take his primitive human form only through a knowledge of the mysteries of Isis. The story is well told, and the romance is full of interest and sprightliness; but its style is incorrect, florid, and bombastic.

Boethius (470-524), the last of the Roman philosophers, was the descendant of an illustrious family. He made Greek philosophy the principal object of his meditations. He was raised to the highest honors and offices in the empire by Theodoric, but finally, through the artifices of enemies who envied his reputation, he lost the favor of his patron, was imprisoned, and at length beheaded. Of his numerous works, founded on the peripatetic philosophy, that which has gained him the greatest celebrity is entitled "On the Consolations of Philosophy," composed while he was in prison. It is in the form of a dialogue, in which philosophy appears to console him with the idea of Divine Providence. The poetical part of the book is written with elegance and grace, and his prose, though not pure, is fluent and full of tranquil dignity. The work of Boethius, which is known in all modern languages, was translated into Anglo-Saxon by King Alfred, 900 A.D.

The fathers of the church followed more particularly the philosophy of Plato, which was united and adapted to Christianity. St. Augustine is the most illustrious among the Christian Platonists.

The most eloquent orators and writers of this period were found among the advocates of Christianity; and among the most celebrated of these Latin fathers of the Christian church we may mention the following names. Tertullian (160-285), in his apology for the Christians, gives much information on the manners and conduct of the early Christians; his style is concise and figurative, but harsh, unpolished, and obscure. St. Cyprian (200-258), beheaded at Carthage for preaching the gospel contrary to the orders of the government, wrote an explanation of the Lord's Prayer, which affords a valuable illustration of the ecclesiastical history of the time. Arnobius (fl. 300) refuted the objections of the heathen against Christianity with spirit and learning, in his "Disputes with the Gentiles," a work rich in materials for the understanding of Greek and Roman mythology. Lactantius (d. 335), on account of his fine and eloquent language, is frequently called the Christian Cicero; his "Divine Institutes" are particularly celebrated. St. Ambrose (340-397) obtained great honor by his conduct as Bishop of Milan, and his writings bear the stamp of his high Christian character. St. Augustine (360-430) was one of the most renowned of all the Latin fathers. Though others may have been more learned or masters of a purer style, none more powerfully touched and warmed the heart towards religion. His "City of God" is one of the great monuments of human genius. St. Jerome (330-420) wrote many epistles full of energy and affection, as well as of religious zeal. He made a Latin version of the Old Testament, which was the foundation of the Vulgate, and which gave a new impulse to the study of the Holy Scriptures. Leo the Great (fl. 440) is the first pope whose writings have been preserved. They consist of sermons and letters. His style is finished and rhetorical.

10. ROMAN JURISPRUDENCE.—In the period which followed, from the death of Augustus to the time of the Antonines, Roman civilians and legal writers continued to be numerous, and as a professional body they seem to have enjoyed high consideration until the close of the reign of Alexander Severus, 385* A.D. After that time they were held in much less estimation, as the science fell into the hands of freedmen and plebeians, who practiced it as a sordid and pernicious trade. With the reign of Constantine, the credit of the profession revived, and the youth of the empire were stimulated to pursue the study of the law by the hope of being ultimately rewarded by honorable and lucrative offices, the magistrates being almost wholly taken from the class of lawyers. Two jurists of this reign, Gregorianus and Hermogenianus, are particularly distinguished as authors of codes which are known by their names, and which were recognized as standard authorities in courts of justice. The "Code of Theodosius" was a collection of laws reduced by that emperor, and promulgated in both empires 438 A.D. It retained its authority in the western empire until its final overthrow, 476 A.D., and even after this, though modified by the institutions of the conquerors. In the eastern empire, it was only superseded by the code of Justinian. This emperor undertook the task of reducing to order and system the great confusion and perplexity in which the whole subject of Roman jurisprudence was involved. For this purpose he employed the most eminent lawyers, with the celebrated Tribonian at their head, to whom he intrusted the work of forming and publishing a complete collection of the preceding laws and edicts, and who devoted several years of unwearied labor and research to this object. They first collected and reduced the imperial constitutions from the time of Hadrian downwards, which was promulgated as the "Justinian Code." Their next labor was to reduce the writings of the jurisconsults of the preceding ages, especially those who had lived under the empire, and whose works are said to have amounted to two thousand volumes. This work was published 533 A.D., under the title of "Pandects," or "Digest," the former title referring to their completeness as comprehending the whole of Roman jurisprudence, and the latter to their methodical arrangement. At the same time, a work prepared by Tribonian was published by the order of the emperor, on the elements or first principles of Roman law, entitled "Institutes," and another collection consisting of constitutions and edicts, under the title of "Novels," chiefly written in Greek, but known to the moderns by a Latin translation. These four works, the Code, the Pandects, the Institutes, and the Novels, constituted what is now called the Body of Roman Law.

The system of jurisprudence established by Justinian remained in force in the eastern empire until the taking of Constantinople, 1453 A.D. After the fall of the western empire, these laws had little sway until the twelfth century, when Irnerius, a German lawyer who had studied at Constantinople, opened a school at Bologna, and thus revived and propagated in the West a knowledge of Roman civil law. Students flocked to this school from all parts, and by them Roman jurisprudence, as embodied in the system of Justinian, was transmitted to most of the countries of Europe.

During the fourth and fifth centuries, the process of the debasement of the Roman tongue went on with great rapidity. The influence of the provincials began what the irruptions of the northern tribes consummated. In many scattered parts of the empire it is probable that separate Latin dialects arose, and the strain upon the whole structure of the tongue was prodigious, when the Goths poured into Italy, established themselves in the capital, and began to speak and write in a language previously foreign to them. With the close of the reign of Theodoric the curtain falls upon ancient literature.

ARABIAN LITERATURE.

1. European Literature in the Dark Ages.—2. The Arabian language.—3. Arabian Mythology and the Koran.—4. Historical Development of Arabian Literature.—5. Grammar and Rhetoric.—6. Poetry.—7. The Arabian Tales.— 8. History and Science.—9. Education.

1. EUROPEAN LITERATURE IN THE DARK AGES.—The literature, arts, and sciences of the Arabs formed the connecting link between the civilizations of ancient and modern times. To them we owe the revival of learning in Western Europe, and many of the inventions and useful arts perfected by later nations.

From the middle of the sixth century A.D. to the beginning of the eleventh, the interval between the decline of ancient and the development of modern literature is known in history as the Dark Ages. The sudden rise of the Arabian Empire and the rapid development of its literature were the great events which characterize the period.

At the beginning of this epoch classical genius was already extinct, and the purity of the classical tongues was yielding rapidly to the corruptions of the provinces and of the new dialects. Many other causes conspired to work great changes in the fabric of society, and in the manifestations of human intellect. Throughout this period the treasures of Greek and Latin literature, exposed to the danger of perishing and impaired by much actual loss, exerted no influence on the minds of those who still used the tongues to which they belong. Greek letters, as we have seen, decayed with the Byzantine power, and the vital principle in both became extinct long before the sword of the Turkish conqueror inflicted the final blow. The fate of Latin literature was not less deplorable. When province after province of the Roman dominions was overrun by the northern hordes, when the imperial schools were suppressed and the monuments of ancient genius destroyed, an enfeebled people and a debased language could not withstand such adverse circumstances. During the seventh and eighth centuries Latin composition degenerated into the rudeness of the monkish style. The care bestowed by Charlemagne upon education in the ninth century produced some purifying effect upon the writings of the cloister; the tenth was distinguished by an increased zeal in the task of transcribing the classical authors, and in the eleventh the Latin works of the Normans display some masculine force and freedom. Latin was the repository of such knowledge as the times could boast; it was used in the service of the church, and in the chronicles that supplied the place of history, but it was not the vehicle of any great production stamped with true genius and impressing the minds of posterity. Still, genius was not altogether extinguished in every part of Europe. The north, which sent out its daring tribes to change the aspect of civil life, furnished a fresh source of mental inspiration, which was destined, with the recovered influence of the classic spirit and other prolific causes, to give birth to some of the best portions of modern literature.

At the memorable epoch of the overthrow of the Roman dominion in the West (476 A.D.), the seats of the Teutonic race extended from the banks of the Rhine and the Danube to the rock-bound coasts of Norway. The victorious invaders who occupied the southern provinces of Europe speedily lost their own forms of speech, which were broken down, together with those of the vanquished, into a jargon unfit for composition. But in Germany and Scandinavia, where the old language retained its purity, song continued to flourish. There, from the most distant eras described by Tacitus and other Latin writers, the favorite attendants of kings and chiefs were those celebrated bards who preserved in their traditionary strains the memory of great events, the praises of the gods, the glory of warriors, and the laws and customs of their countrymen. Intrusted, like the Grecian heroic minstrelsy, to oral recitation, it was not until the propitious reign of Charlemagne that these verses were collected. But, through the bigotry of his successor or the ravages of time, not a fragment of this collection remains. We are enabled, however, to form an idea of the general tone and tenor of this early Teutonic poetry from other interesting remains. The "Nibelungen-Lied" (Lay of the Nibelungen) and "Heldenbuch" (Book of Heroes) may be regarded as the Homeric poems of Germany. After an examination of their monuments, the ability of the ancient bards, the honor in which they were held, and the enthusiasm which they produced, will not be surprising.

Equally distinguished were the Scalds of Scandinavia. Ever in the train of princes and gallant adventurers, they chanted their rhymeless verse for the encouragement and solace of heroes. Their oldest songs, or sagas, are mostly of a historical import. In the Icelandic Edda, however, the richest monument of this species of composition, the theological element of their poetry is shadowed out in the most picturesque and fanciful legends.

Such was the intellectual state of Europe down to the age of Charlemagne. While in the once famous seats of arts and arms scarcely a ray of native genius or courage was visible, the light of human intellect still burned in lands whose barbarism had furnished matter for the sarcasm of classical writers.

Charlemagne encouraged learning, established schools, and filled his court with men of letters; while in England, the illustrious Alfred, himself a scholar and an author, improved and enriched the Anglo-Saxon dialect, and exerted the most beneficial influence on his contemporaries.

The confusion and debasement of language in the south of Europe has already been alluded to. But the force and activity of mind, that formed an essential characteristic of the conquering race, were destined ultimately to evolve regularity and harmony out of the concussion of discordant elements. The Latin and Teutonic tongues were blended together, and hence proceeded all the chief dialects of modern Europe. Over the south, from Portugal to Italy, the Latin element prevailed; but even where the Teutonic was the chief ingredient, as in the English and German, there has also been a large infusion of the Latin. To these two languages, and to the Provençal, French, Italian, Spanish, and Portuguese, called, from their Roman origin, the Romance or Romanic languages, all that is prominent and precious in modern letters belongs. But it is not until the eleventh century that their progress becomes identified with the history of literature. Up to this period there had been little repose, freedom, or peaceful enjoyment of property. The independence and industry of the middle classes were almost unknown, and the chieftain, the vassal, and the slave were the characters which stood out in the highest relief. Throughout the whole of the eleventh century, the social chaos seemed resolving itself into some approach to order and tranquillity. The gradual abolition of personal servitude, hardly accomplished in three successive centuries, now began. A third estate arose. The rights of cities, and the corporation-spirit, the result of the necessity that drove men to combine for mutual defense, led to intercourse among them and to consequent improvement in language. Chivalry, also, served to mitigate the oppressions of the nobles, and to soften and refine their manners. From the date of the first crusade (1093 A.D.) down to the close of the twelfth century, was the golden age of chivalry. The principal thrones of Europe were occupied by her foremost knights. The East formed a point of union for the ardent and adventurous of different countries, whose courteous rivalry stimulated the growth of generous sentiments and the passion for brave deeds. The genius of Europe was roused by the passage of thousands of her sons through Greece into Asia and Egypt, amidst the ancient seats of art, science, and refinement; and the minds of men received a fresh and powerful impulse. It was during the eleventh century that the brilliancy of the Arabian literature reached its culminating point, and, through the intercourse of the Troubadours with the Moors of the peninsula, and of the Crusaders with the Arabs in the East, began to influence the progress of letters in Europe.

2. THE ARABIAN LANGUAGE.—The Arabian language belongs to the Semitic family; it has two principal dialects—the northern, which has, for centuries, been the general tongue of the empire, and is best represented in literature, and the southern, a branch of which is supposed to be the mother of the Ethiopian language. The former, in degenerated dialects, is still spoken in Arabia, in parts of western Asia, and throughout northern Africa, and forms an important part of the Turkish, Persian, and other Oriental languages. The Arabic is characterized by its guttural sounds, by the richness and pliability of its vowels, by its dignity, volume of sound, and vigor of accentuation and pronunciation. Like all Semitic languages, it is written from right to left; the characters are of Syrian origin, and were introduced into Arabia before the time of Mohammed. They are of two kinds, the Cufic, which were first used, and the Neskhi, which superseded them, and which continue in use at the present day. The Arabic alphabet was, with a few modifications, early adopted by the Persians and Turks.

3. ARABIAN MYTHOLOGY AND THE KORAN.—Before the time of Mohammed, the Arabians were gross idolaters. They had some traditionary idea of the unity and perfections of the Deity, but their creed embraced an immense number of subordinate divinities, represented by images of men and women, beasts and birds. The essential basis of their religion was Sabeism, or star-worship. The number and beauty of the heavenly luminaries, and the silent regularity of their motions, could not fail deeply to impress the minds of this imaginative people, living in the open air, under the clear and serene sky, and wandering among the deserts, oases, and picturesque mountains of Arabia. They had seven celebrated temples dedicated to the seven planets. Some tribes exclusively reverenced the moon; others the dog-star. Some had received the religion of the Magi, or fire-worshipers, while others had become converts to Judaism.

Ishmael is one of the most venerated progenitors of the nation; and it is the common faith that Mecca, then an arid wilderness, was the spot where his life was providentially saved, and where Hagar, his mother, was buried. The well pointed out by the angel, they believe to be the famous Zemzem, of which all pious Mohammedans drink to this day. To commemorate the miraculous preservation of Ishmael, God commanded Abraham to build a temple, and he erected and consecrated the Caaba, or sacred house, which is still venerated in Mecca; and the black stone incased within its walls is the same on which Abraham stood.

Mohammed (569-632 A.D.) did not pretend to introduce a new religion; his professed object was merely to restore the primitive and only true faith, such as it had been in the days of the patriarchs; the fundamental idea of which was the unity of God. He made the revelations of the Old and New Testaments the basis of his preaching. He maintained the authority of the books of Moses, admitted the divine mission of Jesus, and he enrolled himself in the catalogue of inspired teachers. This doctrine was proclaimed in the memorable words, which for so many centuries constituted the war-cry of the Saracens,—There is no God but God, and Mohammed is his prophet. Mohammed preached no dogmas substantially new, but he adorned, amplified, and adapted to the ideas, prejudices, and inclinations of the Orientals, doctrines which were as old as the race. He enjoined the ablutions suited to the manners and necessities of hot climates. He ordained five daily prayers, that man might learn habitually to elevate his thoughts above the outward world. He instituted the festival of the Ramadan, and the pilgrimage to Mecca, and commanded that every man should bestow in alms the hundredth part of his possessions; observances which, for the most part, already existed in the established customs of the country.

The Koran (Reading), the sacred book of the Mohammedans, is, according to their belief, the revelation of God to their prophet Mohammed. It contains not only their religious belief, but their civil, military, and political code. It is divided into 114 chapters, and 1,666 verses. It is written in rhythmical prose, and its materials are borrowed from the Jewish and Christian scriptures, the legends of the Talmud, and the traditions and fables of the Arabian and Persian mythologies. Confusion of ideas, obscurity, and contradictions destroy the unity and even the interest of this work. The chapters are preposterously distributed, not according to their date or connection, but according to their length, beginning with the longest, and ending with the shortest; and thus the work becomes often the more unintelligible by its singular arrangement. But notwithstanding this, there is scarcely a volume in the Arabic language which contains passages breathing more sublime poetry, or more enchanting eloquence; and the Koran is so far important in the history of Arabian letters, that when the scattered leaves were collected by Abubeker, the successor of Mohammed (635 A.D.) and afterwards revised, in the thirtieth year of the Hegira, they fixed at once the classic language of the Arabs, and became their standard in style as well as in religion.

This work and its commentaries are held in the highest reverence by the Mohammedans. It is the principal book taught in their schools; they never touch it without kissing it, and carrying it to the forehead, in token of their reverence; oaths before the courts are taken upon it; it is learned by heart, and repeated every forty days; many believers copy it several times in their lives, and often possess one or more copies ornamented with gold and precious stones.

The Koran treats of death, resurrection, the judgment, paradise, and the place of torment, in a style calculated powerfully to affect the imagination of the believer. The joys of paradise, promised to all who fall in the cause of religion, are those most captivating to an Arabian fancy. When Al Sirat, or the Bridge of Judgment, which is as slender as the thread of a famished spider, and as sharp as the edge of a sword, shall be passed by the believer, he will be welcomed into the gardens of delight by black-eyed Houris, beautiful nymphs, not made of common clay, but of pure essence and odors, free from all blemish, and subject to no decay of virtue or of beauty, and who await their destined lovers in rosy bowers, or in pavilions formed of a single hollow pearl. The soil of paradise is composed of musk and saffron, sprinkled with pearls and hyacinths. The walls of its mansions are of gold and silver; the fruits, which bend spontaneously to him who would gather them, are of a flavor and delicacy unknown to mortals. Numerous rivers flow through this blissful abode; some of wine, others of milk, honey, and water, the pebbly beds of which are rubies and emeralds, and their banks of musk, camphor, and saffron. In paradise the enjoyment of the believers, which is subject neither to satiety nor diminution, will be greater than the human understanding can compass. The meanest among them will have eighty thousand servants, and seventy-two wives. Wine, though forbidden on earth, will there be freely allowed, and will not hurt or inebriate. The ravishing songs of the angels and of the Houris will render all the groves vocal with harmony, such as mortal ear never heard. At whatever age they may have died, at their resurrection all will be in the prime of manly and eternal vigor. It would be a journey of a thousand years for a true Mohammedan to travel through paradise, and behold all the wives, servants, gardens, robes, jewels, horses, camels, and other things, which belong exclusively to him.

The hell of Mohammed is as full of terror as his heaven is of delight. The wicked, who fall into the gulf of torture from the bridge of Al Sirat, will suffer alternately from cold and heat; when they are thirsty, boiling water will be given them to drink; and they will be shod with shoes of fire. The dark mansions of the Christians, Jews, Sabeans, Magians, and idolaters are sunk below each other with increasing horrors, in the order of their names. The seventh or lowest hell is reserved for the faithless hypocrites of every religion. Into this dismal receptacle the unhappy sufferer will be dragged by seventy thousand halters, each pulled by seventy thousand angels, and exposed to the scourge of demons, whose pastime is cruelty and pain.

It is a portion of the faith inculcated in the Koran, that both angels and demons exist, having pure and subtle bodies, created of fire, and free from human appetites and desires. The four principal angels are Gabriel, the angel of revelation; Michael, the friend and protector of the Jews; Azrael, the angel of death; and Izrafel, whose office it will be to sound the trumpet at the last day. Every man has two guardian angels to attend him and record his actions, good and evil. The doctrine of the angels, demons, and jins or genii, the Arabians probably derived from the Hebrews. The demons are fallen angels, the prince of whom is Eblis; he was at first one of the angels nearest to God's presence, and was called Azazel. He was cast out of heaven, according to the Koran, for refusing to pay homage to Adam at the time of the creation. The genii are intermediate creatures, neither wholly spiritual nor wholly earthly, some of whom are good and entitled to salvation, and others infidels and devoted to eternal torture. Among them are several ranks and degrees, as the Peris, or fairies, beautiful female spirits, who seek to do good upon the earth, and the Deev, or giants, who frequently make war upon the Peris, take them captive, and shut them up in cages. The genii, both good and bad, have the power of making themselves invisible at pleasure. Besides the mountain o£ Kaf, which is their chief place of resort, they dwell in ruined cities, uninhabited houses, at the bottom of wells, in woods, pools of water, and among the rocks and sandhills of the desert. Shooting stars are still believed by the people of the East to be arrows shot by the angels against the genii, who transgress these limits and approach too near the forbidden regions of bliss. Many of the genii delight in mischief; they surprise and mislead travelers, raise whirlwinds, and dry up springs in the desert. The Ghoul lives on the flesh of men and women, whom he decoys to his haunts in wild and barren places, in order to kill and devour them, and when he cannot thus obtain food, he enters the graveyards and feeds upon the bodies of the dead.

The fairy mythology of the Arabians was introduced into Europe in the eleventh century by the Troubadours and writers of the romances of chivalry, and through them it became an important element in the literature of Europe. It constituted the machinery of the Fabliaux of the Trouvères, and of the romantic epics of Boccaccio, Ariosto, Tasso, Spenser, Shakspeare, and others.

The three leading Mohammedan sects are the Sunnees, the Sheahs, and the Wahabees. The Sunnees acknowledge the authority of the first Caliphs, from whom most of the traditions were derived. The Sheahs assert the divine right of Ali to succeed to the prophet; consequently they consider the first Caliphs, and all their successors, as usurpers. The Wahabees are a sect of religious reformers, who took their name from Abd al Wahab (1700- 1750), the Luther of the Mohammedans. They became a formidable power in Arabia, but they were finally overcome by Ibrahim Pacha in 1816.

4. HISTORICAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE ARABIAN LITERATURE.—The literature of the Arabians has, properly speaking, but one period; although from remote antiquity poetry was with them a favorite occupation, and long before the time of Mohammed the roving tribes of the desert had their annual conventions, where they defended their honor and celebrated their heroic deeds. As early as the fifth century A.D., at the fair of Ochadh, thirty days every year were employed not only in the exchange of merchandise, but in the nobler display of rival talents. A place was set apart for the competitions of the bards, whose highest ambition was to conquer in this literary arena, and the victorious compositions were inscribed in golden letters upon Egyptian paper, and suspended upon the doors of the Caaba, the ancient national sanctuary of Mecca. Seven of the most famous of these ancient poets have been celebrated by Oriental writers under the title of the Arabian Pleiades, and their songs, still preserved, are full of passion, manly pride, and intensity of imagination and feeling. These and similar effusions constituted the entire literature of Arabia, and were the only archives of the nation previous to the age of Mohammed.

The peninsula of Arabia, hitherto restricted to its natural boundaries, and peopled by wandering tribes, had occupied but a subordinate place in the history of the world. But the success of Mohammed and the preaching of the Koran were followed by the union of the tribes who, inspired by the feelings of national pride and religious fervor, in less than a century made the Arabian power, tongue, and religion predominant over a third part of Asia, almost one half of Africa, and a part of Spain; and, from the ninth to the sixteenth century, the literature of the Arabians far surpassed that of any contemporary nation.

After the fall of the Roman empire in the fifth century A.D., when the western world sank into barbarism, and the inhabitants, ever menaced by famine or the sword, found full occupation in struggling against civil wars, feudal tyranny, and the invasion of barbarians; when poetry was unknown, philosophy was proscribed as rebellion against religion, and barbarous dialects had usurped the place of that beautiful Latin language which had so long connected the nations of the West, and preserved to them so many treasures of thought and taste, the Arabians, who by their conquests and fanaticism had contributed more than any other nation to abolish the cultivation of science and literature, having at length established their empire, in turn devoted themselves to letters. Masters of the country of the magi and the Chaldeans, of Egypt, the first storehouse of human science, of Asia Minor, where poetry and the fine arts had their birth, and of Africa, the country of impetuous eloquence and subtle intellect—they seemed to unite in themselves the advantages of all the nations which they had thus subjugated. Innumerable treasures had been the fruit of their conquests, and this hitherto rude and uncultivated nation now began to indulge in the most unbounded luxury. Possessed of all the delights that human industry, quickened by boundless riches, could procure, with all that could flatter the senses and attach the heart to life, they now attempted to mingle with these the pleasures of the intellect, the cultivation of the arts and sciences, and all that is most excellent in human knowledge. In this new career, their conquests were not less rapid than they had been in the field; nor was the empire which they founded less extended. With a celerity equally surprising, it rose to a gigantic height, but it rested on a foundation no less insecure, and it was quite as transitory in its duration.

The Hegira, or flight of Mohammed from Mecca to Medina, corresponds with the year 622 of our era, and the supposed burning of the Alexandrian library by Amrou, the general of the Caliph Omar, with the year 641. This is the period of the deepest barbarism among the Saracens, and this event, doubtful as it is, has left a melancholy proof of their contempt for letters. A century had scarcely elapsed from the period to which this barbarian outrage is referred, when the family of the Abassides, who mounted the throne of the Caliphs in 750, introduced a passionate love of art, of science, and of poetry. In the literature of Greece, nearly eight centuries of progressive cultivation succeeding the Trojan war had prepared the way for the age of Pericles. In that of Rome, the age of Augustus was also in the eighth century after the foundation of the city. In French literature, the age of Louis XIV. was twelve centuries subsequent to Clovis, and eight after the development of the first rudiments of the language. But, in the rapid progress of the Arabian empire, the age of Al Mamoun, the Augustus of Bagdad, was not removed more than one hundred and fifty years from the foundation of the monarchy. All the literature of the Arabians bears the marks of this rapid development.

Ali, the fourth Caliph from Mohammed, was the first who extended any protection to letters. His rival and successor, Moawyiah, the first of the Ommyiades (661-680), assembled at his court all who were most distinguished by scientific acquirements; he surrounded himself with poets; and as he had subjected to his dominion many of the Grecian islands and provinces, the sciences of Greece under him first began to obtain any influence over the Arabians.

After the extinction of the dynasty of the Ommyiades, that of the Abassides bestowed a still more powerful patronage on letters. The celebrated Haroun al Raschid (786-809) acquired a glorious reputation by the protection he afforded to letters. He never undertook a journey without carrying with him at least a hundred men of science in his train, and he never built a mosque without attaching to it a school.

But the true protector and father of Arabic literature was Al Mamoun, the son of Haroun al Raschid (813-833), who rendered Bagdad the centre of literature. He invited to his court from every part of the world all the learned men with whose existence he was acquainted, and he retained them by rewards, honors, and distinctions of every kind. He exacted, as the most precious tribute from the conquered provinces, all the important books and literary relics that could be discovered. Hundreds of camels might be seen entering Bagdad, loaded with nothing but manuscripts and papers, and those most proper for instruction were translated into Arabic. Instructors, translators, and commentators formed the court of Al Mamoun, which appeared to be rather a learned academy, than the seat of government in a warlike empire. The Caliph himself was much attached to the study of mathematics, which he pursued with brilliant success. He conceived the grand design of measuring the earth, which was accomplished by his mathematicians, at his own expense. Not less generous than enlightened, Al Mamoun, when he pardoned one of his relatives who had revolted against him, exclaimed, "If it were known what pleasure I experience in granting pardon, all who have offended against me would come and confess their crimes."

The progress of the Arabians in science was proportioned to the zeal of the sovereign. In every town of the empire schools, colleges, and academies were established. Bagdad was the capital of letters as well as of the Caliphs, but Bassora and Cufa almost equaled that city in reputation, and in the number of celebrated poems and treatises that they produced. Balkh, Ispahan, and Samarcand were equally the homes of science. Cairo contained a great number of colleges; in the towns of Fez and Morocco the most magnificent buildings were appropriated to the purposes of instruction, and in their rich libraries were preserved those precious volumes which had been lost in other places.

What Bagdad was to Asia, Cordova was to Europe, where, particularly in the tenth and eleventh centuries, the Arabs were the pillars of literature. At this period, when learning found scarcely anywhere either rest or encouragement, the Arabians were employed in collecting and diffusing it in the three great divisions of the world. Students traveled from France and other European countries to the Arabian schools in Spain, particularly to learn medicine and mathematics. Besides the academy at Cordova, there were established fourteen others in different parts of Spain, exclusive of the higher schools. The Arabians made the most rapid advancement in all the departments of learning, especially in arithmetic, geometry, and astronomy. In the various cities of Spain, seventy libraries were opened for public instruction at the period when all the rest of Europe, without books, without learning, without cultivation, was plunged in the most disgraceful ignorance. The number of Arabic authors which Spain produced was so prodigious, that many Arabian bibliographers wrote learned treatises on the authors born in particular towns, or on those among the Spaniards who devoted themselves to a single branch of study, as philosophy, medicine, mathematics, or poetry. Thus, throughout the vast extent of the Arabian empire, the progress of letters had followed that of arms, and for five centuries this literature preserved all its brilliancy.

5. GRAMMAR AND RHETORIC.—The perfection of the language was one of the first objects of the Arabian scholars, and from the rival schools of Cufa and Bassora a number of distinguished men proceeded, who analyzed with the greatest subtlety all its rules and aided in perfecting it. As early as in the age of Ali, the fourth Caliph, Arabian literature boasted of a number of scientific grammarians. Prosody and the metric art were reduced to systems. Dictionaries of the language were composed, some of which are highly esteemed at the present day. Among these may be mentioned the "Al Sehah," or Purity, and "El Kamus," or the Ocean, which is considered the best dictionary of the Arabian language. The study of rhetoric was united to that of grammar, and the most celebrated works of the Greeks on this art were translated and adapted to the Arabic. After the age of Mohammed and his immediate successors, popular eloquence was no longer cultivated. Eastern despotism having supplanted the liberty of the desert, the heads of the state or army regarded it beneath them to harangue the people or the soldiers; they called upon them only for obedience. But though political eloquence was of short duration among the Arabians, on the other hand they were the inventors of that species of rhetoric most cultivated at the present day, that of the academy and the pulpit. Their philosophers in these learned assemblies displayed all the measured harmony of which their language was susceptible. Mohammed had ordained that his faith should be preached in the mosques;—many of the harangues of these sacred orators are still preserved in the Escurial, and the style of them is very similar to that of the Christian orators.

6. POETRY.—Poetry still more than eloquence was the favorite occupation of the Arabians from their origin as a nation. It is said that this people alone have produced more poets than all others united. Mohammed himself, as well as some of his first companions, cultivated this art, but it was under Haroun al Raschid and his successor, Al Mamoun, and more especially under the Ommyïades of Spain that Arabic poetry attained its highest splendor. But the ancient impetuosity of expression, the passionate feeling, and the spirit of individual independence no longer characterized the productions of this period, nor is there among the numerous constellations of Arabic poets any star of distinguished magnitude. With the exception of Mohammed and a few of the Saracen conquerors and sovereigns, there is scarcely an individual of this nation whose name is familiar to the nations of Christendom.

The Arabians possess many heroic poems composed for the purpose of celebrating the praises of distinguished men, and of animating the courage of their soldiers. They do not, however, boast of any epics; their poetry is entirely lyric and didactic. They have been inexhaustible in their love poems, their elegies, their moral verses,—among which their fables may be reckoned,—their eulogistic, satirical, descriptive, and above all, their didactic poems, which have graced even the most abstruse science, as grammar, rhetoric, and arithmetic. But among all their poems, the catalogue alone of which, in the Escurial, consists of twenty-four volumes, there is not a single epic, comedy, or tragedy.

In those branches of poetry which they cultivated they displayed surprising subtlety and great refinement of thought, but the fame of their compositions rests, in some degree, on their bold metaphors, their extravagant allegories, and their excessive hyperboles. The Arabs despised the poetry of the Greeks, which appeared to them timid, cold, and constrained, and among all the books, which, with almost superstitious veneration, they borrowed from them, there is scarcely a single poem which they judged worthy of translation. The object of the Arabian poets was to make a brilliant use of the boldest and most gigantic images, and to astonish the reader by the abruptness of their expressions. They burdened their compositions with riches, under the idea that nothing which was beautiful could be superfluous. They neglected natural sentiment, and the more they could multiply the ornaments of art, the more admirable in their eyes did the work appear.

The nations who possessed a classical poetry, in imitating nature, had discovered the use of the epic and the drama, in which the poet endeavors to express the true language of the human heart. The people of the East, with the exception of the Hindus, never made this attempt—their poetry is entirely lyric; but under whatever name it may be known, it is always found to be the language of the passions. The poetry of the Arabians is rhymed like our own, and the rhyming is often carried still farther in the construction of the verse, while the uniformity of sound is frequently echoed throughout the whole expression. The collection made by Aboul Teman (fl. 845 A.D.) containing the Arabian poems of the age anterior to Mohammed, and that of Taoleti, which embraces the poems of the subsequent periods, are considered the richest and most complete anthologies of Arabian poetry. Montanebbi, a poet who lived about 1050, has been compared to the Persian Hafiz.

7. THE ARABIAN TALES.—If the Arabs have neither the epic nor the drama, they have been, on the other hand, the inventors of a style of composition which is related to the epic, and which supplies among them the place of the drama. We owe to them those tales, the conception of which is so brilliant and the imagination so rich and varied: tales which have been the delight of our infancy, and which at a more advanced age we can never read without feeling their enchantment anew. Every one is acquainted with the "Arabian Nights Entertainments;" but in our translation we possess but a very small part of the Arabian collection, which is not confined merely to books, but forms the treasure of a numerous class of men and women, who, throughout the East, find a livelihood in reciting these tales to crowds, who delight to forget the present, in the pleasing dreams of imagination. In the coffee-houses of the Levant, one of these men will gather a silent crowd around him, and picture to his audience those brilliant and fantastic visions which are the patrimony of Eastern imaginations. The public squares abound with men of this class, and their recitations supply the place of our dramatic representations. The physicians frequently recommend them to their patients in order to soothe pain, to calm agitation, or to produce sleep; and these story-tellers, accustomed to sickness, modulate their voices, soften their tones, and gently suspend them as sleep steals over the sufferer.

The imagination of the Arabs in these tales is easily distinguished from that of the chivalric nations. The supernatural world is the same in both, but the moral world is different. The Arabian tales, like the romances of chivalry, convey us to the fairy realms, but the human personages which they introduce are very dissimilar. They had their birth after the Arabians had devoted themselves to commerce, literature, and the arts, and we recognize in them the style of a mercantile people, as we do that of a warlike nation in the romances of chivalry. Valor and military achievements here inspire terror but no enthusiasm, and on this account the Arabian tales are often less noble and heroic than we usually expect in compositions of this nature. But, on the other hand, the Arabians are our masters in the art of producing and sustaining this kind of fiction. They are the creators of that brilliant mythology of fairies and genii which extends the bounds of the world, and carries us into the realms of marvels and prodigies. It is from them that European nations have derived that intoxication of love, that tenderness and delicacy of sentiment, and that reverential awe of women, by turns slaves and divinities, which have operated so powerfully on their chivalrous feelings. We trace their effects in all the literature of the south, which owes to this cause its mental character. Many of these tales had separately found their way into the poetic literature of Europe, long before the translation of the Arabian Nights. Some are to be met with in the old fabliaux, in Boccaccio, and in Ariosto, and these very tales which have charmed our infancy, passing from nation to nation through channels frequently unknown, are now familiar to the memory and form the delight of the imagination of half the inhabitants of the globe.

The author of the original Arabic work is unknown, as is also the period at which it was composed. It was first introduced into Europe from Syria, where it was obtained, in the latter part of the seventeenth century, by Galland, a French traveler, who was sent to the East by the celebrated Colbert, to collect manuscripts, and by him first translated and published.

8. HISTORY AND SCIENCE.—As early as the eighth century A.D., history became an important department in Arabian literature. At later periods, historians who wrote on all subjects were numerous. Several authors wrote universal history from the beginning of the world to their own time; every state, province, and city possessed its individual chronicle, Many, in imitation of Plutarch, wrote the lives of distinguished men; and there was such a passion for every species of composition, and such a desire to leave no subject untouched, that there was a serious history written of celebrated horses, and another of camels that had risen to distinction. They possessed historical dictionaries, and made use of all those inventions which curtail labor and dispense with the necessity of research. Every art and science had its history, and of these this nation possessed a more complete collection than any other, either ancient or modern. The style of the Arabian historians is simple and unadorned.

Philosophy was passionately cultivated by the Arabians, and upon it was founded the fame of many ingenious and sagacious men, whose names are still revered in Europe. Among them were Averrhoes of Cordova (d. 1198), the great commentator on the works of Aristotle, and Avicenna (d. 1037), a profound philosopher as well as a celebrated writer on medicine. Arabian philosophy penetrated rapidly into the West, and had greater influence on the schools of Europe than any branch of Arabic literature; and yet it was the one in which the progress was, in fact, the least real. The Arabians, more ingenious than profound, attached themselves rather to the subtleties than to the connection of ideas; their object was more to dazzle than to instruct, and they exhausted their imaginations in search of mysteries. Aristotle was worshiped by them, as a sort of divinity. In their opinion all philosophy was to be found in his writings, and they explained every metaphysical question according to the scholastic standard.

The interpretation of the Koran formed another important part of their speculative studies, and their literature abounds with exegetic works on their sacred book, as well as with commentaries on Mohammedan law. The learned Arabians did not confine themselves to the studies which they could only prosecute in their closets; they undertook, for the advancement of science, the most perilous journeys, and we owe to Aboul Feda (1273- 1331) and other Arabian travelers the best works on geography written in the Middle Ages.

The natural sciences were cultivated by them with great ardor, and many naturalists among them merit the gratitude of posterity. Botany and chemistry, of which they were in some sort the inventors, gave them a better acquaintance with nature than the Greeks or Romans ever possessed, and the latter science was applied by them to all the necessary arts of life. Above all, agriculture was studied by them with a perfect knowledge of the climate, soil, and growth of plants. From the eighth to the eleventh century, they established medical schools in the principal cities of their dominions, and published valuable works on medical science. They introduced more simple principles into mathematics, and extended the use and application of that science. They added to arithmetic the decimal system, and the Arabic numerals, which, however, are of Hindu origin; they simplified the trigonometry of the Greeks, and gave algebra more useful and general applications. Bagdad and Cordova had celebrated schools of astronomy, and observatories, and their astronomers made important discoveries; a great number of scientific words are evidently Arabic, such as algebra, alcohol, zenith, nadir, etc., and many of the inventions, which at the present day add to the comforts of life, are due to the Arabians. Paper, now so necessary to the progress of intellect, was brought by them from Asia. In China, from all antiquity, it had been manufactured from silk, but about the year 30 of the Hegira (649 A.D.) the manufacture of it was introduced at Samarcand, and when that city was conquered by the Arabians, they first employed cotton in the place of silk, and the invention spread with rapidity throughout their dominions. The Spaniards, in fabricating paper, substituted flax for cotton, which was more scarce and dear; but it was not till the end of the thirteenth century that paper mills were established in the Christian states of Spain, from whence the invention passed, in the fourteenth century only, to Treviso and Padua. Tournaments were first instituted among the Arabians, from whom they were introduced into Italy and France. Gunpowder, the discovery of which is generally attributed to a German chemist, was known to the Arabians at least a century before any trace of it appeared in European history. The compass, also, the invention of which has been given alternately to the Italians and French in the thirteenth century, was known to the Arabians in the eleventh. The number of Arabic inventions, of which we enjoy the benefit without suspecting it, is prodigious.

Such, then, was the brilliant light which literature and science displayed from the ninth to the fourteenth century of our era in those vast countries which had submitted to the yoke of Islamism. In this immense extent of territory, twice or thrice as large as Europe, nothing is now found but ignorance, slavery, terror, and death. Few men are there capable of reading the works of their illustrious ancestors, and few who could comprehend them are able to procure them. The prodigious literary riches of the Arabians no longer exist in any of the countries where the Arabians or Mussulmans rule. It is not there that we must seek for the fame of their great men or for their writings. What has been preserved is in the hands of their enemies, in the convents of the monks, or in the royal libraries of Europe.

9. EDUCATION.—At present there is little education, in our sense of the word, in Arabia. In the few instances where public schools exist, writing, grammar, and rhetoric sum up the teaching. The Bedouin children learn from their parents much more than is common in other countries. Great attention is paid to accuracy of grammar and purity of diction throughout the country, and of late literary institutions have been established at Beyrout, Damascus, Bagdad, and Hefar.

Such is the extent of Arabic literature, that, notwithstanding the labors of European scholars and the productions of native presses, in Boulak and Cairo, in India, and recently in England, where Hassam, an Arabian poet, has devoted himself to the production of standard works, the greater part of what has been preserved is still in manuscript and still more has perished.

ITALIAN LITERATURE.

INTRODUCTION.—1. Italian Literature and its Divisions.—2. The Dialects. —3. The Italian Language.

PERIOD FIRST.—1. Latin Influence.—2. Early Italian Poetry and Prose.—3.
Dante.—4. Petrarch.—5. Boccaccio and other Prose Writers.—6. First
Decline of Italian Literature.

PERIOD SECOND.—1. The Close of the Fifteenth Century; Lorenzo de'
Medici.—2. The Origin of the Drama and Romantic Epic; Poliziano, Pulci,
Boiardo.—3. Romantic Epic Poetry; Ariosto.—4. Heroic Epic Poetry;
Tasso.—5. Lyric Poetry; Bembo, Molza, Tarsia, V. Colonna.—6. Dramatic
Poetry; Trissino, Rucellai; the Writers of Comedy.—7. Pastoral Drama and
Didactic Poetry; Beccari, Sannazzaro, Tasso, Guarini, Rucellai, Alamanni.
—8. Satirical Poetry, Novels, and Tales; Berni, Grazzini, Firenzuola,
Bandello, and others.—9. History; Machiavelli, Guicciardini, Nardi, and
others.—10. Grammar and Rhetoric; the Academy della Crusca, Della Casa,
Speroni, and others.—11. Science, Philosophy, and Politics; the Academy
del Cimento, Galileo, Torricelli, Borelli, Patrizi, Telesio, Campanella,
Bruno, Castiglione, Machiavelli, and others.—12. Decline of the
Literature in the Seventeenth Century.—13. Epic and Lyric Poetry; Marini,
Filicaja.—14. Mock Heroic Poetry, the Drama, and Satire; Tassoni,
Bracciolini, Andreini, and others.—15. History and Epistolary Writings;
Davila, Bentivoglio, Sarpi, Redi.

PERIOD THIRD.—1. Historical Development of the Third Period.—2. The Melodrama; Rinuccini, Zeno, Metastasio.—3. Comedy; Goldoni, C. Gozzi, and others.—4. Tragedy; Maffei, Alfieri, Monti, Manzoni, Nicolini, and others.—5. Lyric, Epic, and Didactic Poetry; Parini, Monti, Ugo Foscolo, Leopardi, Grossi, Lorenzi, and others.—6. Heroic-Comic Poetry, Satire, and Fable; Fortiguerri, Passeroni, G. Gozzi, Parini, Giusti, and others. —7. Romances; Verri, Manzoni, D'Azeglio, Cantù, Guerrazzi, and others. —8. History; Muratori, Vico, Giannone, Botta, Colletta, Tiraboschi, and others.—9. Aesthetics, Criticism, Philology, and Philosophy; Baretti, Parini, Giordani, Gioja, Romagnosi, Gallupi, Rosmini, Gioberti.—From 1860 to 1885.

INTRODUCTION.

1. ITALIAN LITERATURE AND ITS DIVISIONS.—The fall of the Western Empire, the invasions of the northern tribes, and the subsequent wars and calamities, did not entirely extinguish the fire of genius in Italy. As we have seen, the Crusades had opened the East and revealed to Europe its literary and artistic treasures; the Arabs had established a celebrated school of medicine in Salerno, and had made known the ancient classics; a school of jurisprudence was opened in Bologna, where Roman law was expounded by eminent lecturers; and the spirit of chivalry, while it softened and refined human character, awoke the desire of distinction in arms and poetry. The origin of the Italian republics, giving scope to individual agency, marked another era in civilization; while the appearance of the Italian language quickened the national mind and led to a new literature. The spirit of freedom, awakened as early as the eleventh century, received new life in the twelfth, when the Lombard cities, becoming independent, formed a powerful league against Frederick Barbarossa. The instinct of self-defense thus developed increased the necessity of education. In the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, Italian literature acquired its national character and rose to its highest splendor, through the writings of Dante, Petrarch, and Boccaccio, whose influence has been more or less felt in succeeding centuries.

The literary history of Italy may be divided into three periods, each of which presents two distinct phases, one of progress and one of decline. The first period, extending from 1100 to 1475, embraces the origin of the literature, its development through the works of Dante, Petrarch, and Boccaccio, in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, and its first decline in the fifteenth, when it was supplanted by the absorbing study of the Greek and Latin classics.

The second period, commencing 1475, embraces the age of Lorenzo de' Medici and Leo X., when literature began to revive; the age of Ariosto, Tasso, Machiavelli, and Galileo, when it reached its meridian splendor; its subsequent decline, through the school of Marini; and its last revival towards the close of the seventeenth century.

The third period, extending from the close of the seventeenth century to the present time, includes the development of Italian literature, its decline under French influence, and its subsequent national tendency, through the writings of Metastasio, Goldoni, Alfieri, Parini, Monti, Manzoni, and Leopardi.

2. THE DIALECTS.—The dialects of the ancient tribes inhabiting the peninsula early came in contact with the rustic Latin, and were moulded into new tongues, which, at a later period, were again modified by the influence of the barbarians who successively invaded the country. These tongues, elaborated by the action of centuries, are still in use, especially with the lower classes, and many of them have a literature of their own, with grammars and dictionaries. The more important of these dialects are divided into three groups: 1st. The Northern, including the Ligurian, Piedmontese, Lombard, Venetian, and Emilian. 2d. The Central, containing the Tuscan, Umbrian, the dialects of the Marches and of the Roman Provinces. 3d. The Southern, embracing those of the Neapolitan provinces and of Sicily. Each is distinguished from the other and from the true Italian, although they all rest on a common basis, the rustic Latin, the plebeian tongue of the Romans, as distinct from the official and literary tongue.

3. THE ITALIAN LANGUAGE.—The Tuscan or Florentine dialect, which early became the literary language of Italy, was the result of the natural development of the popular Latin and a native dialect probably akin to the rustic Roman idiom. Tuscany suffering comparatively little from foreign invasion, the language lost none of its purity, and remained free from heterogeneous elements. The great writers, Dante, Petrarch, and Boccaccio, who appeared so early, promoted its perfection, secured its prevailing influence, and gave it a national character. Hence, in the literature there is no old Italian as distinct from the modern; the language of Dante continues to be that of modern writers, and becomes more perfect the more it approaches the standard fixed by the great masters of the fourteenth century. Of this language it may he said that for flexibility, copiousness, freedom of construction, and harmony and beauty of sound, it is the most perfect of all the idioms of the Neo-Latin or Romanic tongues.

PERIOD FIRST.

FROM THE ORIGIN OF ITALIAN LITERATURE TO ITS FIRST DECLINE (1100-1475).

1. LATIN INFLUENCE.—During the early part of the Middle Ages Latin was the literary language of Italy, and the aim of the best writers of the time was to restore Roman culture. The Gothic kingdom of Ravenna, established by Theodoric, was the centre of this movement, under the influence of Cassiodorus, Boethius, and Symmachus. It was due to the prevailing affection for the memories of Rome, that through all the Dark Ages the Italian mind kept alive a spirit of freedom unknown in other countries of Europe, a spirit active, later, in the establishment of the Italian republics, and showing itself in the heroic resistance of the communes of Lombardy to the empire of the Hohenstaufens. While the literatures of other countries were drawn almost exclusively from sacred and chivalric legends, the Italians devoted themselves to the study of Roman law and history, to translations from the philosophers of Greece, and, above all, to the establishment of those great universities which were so powerful in extending science and culture throughout the Peninsula.

While the Latin language was used in prose, the poets wrote in Provençal and in French, and many Italian troubadours appeared at the courts of Europe.

2. EARLY ITALIAN POETRY AND PROSE.—The French element became gradually lessened, and towards the close of the thirteenth century there arose the Tuscan school of lyric poetry, the true beginning of Italian art, of which Lapo Gianni, Guido Cavalcanti, Cino da Pistoia, and Dante Alighieri were the masters. It is mainly inspired by love, and takes a popular courtly or scholastic form. The style of Gianni had many of the faults of his predecessors. That of Cavalcanti, the friend and precursor of Dante, showed a tendency to stifle poetic imagery under the dead weight of philosophy. But the love poems of Cino are so mellow, so sweet, so musical, that they are only surpassed by those of Dante, who, as the author of the "Vita Nuova," belongs to this lyric school. In this book he tells the story of his love for Beatrice, which was from the first a high idealization in which there was apparently nothing human or earthly. Everything is super-sensual, aerial, heavenly, and the real Beatrice melts more and more into the symbolic, passing out of her human nature into the divine.

Italian prose writing is of a later date, and also succeeded a period when Italian authors wrote in Latin and French. It consists chiefly of chronicles, tales, and translations.

3. DANTE (1265-1331).—No poet had yet arisen gifted with absolute power over the empire of the soul; no philosopher had pierced into the depths of feeling and of thought, when Dante, the greatest name of Italy and the father of Italian literature, appeared in the might of his genius, and availing himself of the rude and imperfect materials within his reach, constructed his magnificent work. Dante was born in Florence, of the noble family of Alighieri, which was attached to the papal, or Guelph party, in opposition to the imperial, or Ghibelline. He was but a child when death deprived him of his father; but his mother took the greatest pains with his education, placing him under the tuition of Brunetto Latini, and other masters of eminence. He early made great progress, not only in an acquaintance with classical literature and politics, but in music, drawing, horsemanship, and other accomplishments suitable to his station. As he grew up, he pursued his studies in the universities of Padua, Bologna, and Paris. He became an accomplished scholar, and at the same time appeared in public as a gallant and high-bred man of the world. At the age of twenty-five, he took arms on the side of the Florentine Guelphs, and distinguished himself in two battles against the Ghibellines of Arezzo and Pisa. But before Dante was either a student or a soldier, he had become a lover; and this character, above all others, was impressed upon him for life. At a May-day festival, when only nine years of age, he had singled out a girl of his own age, by the name of Bice, or Beatrice, who thenceforward became the object of his constant and passionate affection, or the symbol of all human wisdom and perfection. Before his twenty-fifth year she was separated from him by death, but his passion was refined, not extinguished by this event; not buried with her body but translated with her soul, which was its object. On the other hand, the affection of Beatrice for the poet troubled her spirit amid the bliss of Paradise, and the visions of the eternal world with which he was favored were a device of hers for reclaiming him from sin, and preparing him for everlasting companionship with herself.

At the age of thirty-five he was elected prior, or supreme magistrate of Florence, an honor from which he dates all his subsequent misfortunes. During his priorship, the citizens were divided into two factions called the Neri and Bianchi, as bitterly opposed to each other as both had been to the Ghibellines. In the absence of Dante on an embassy to Rome, a pretext was found by the Neri, his opponents, for exciting the populace against him. His dwelling was demolished, his property confiscated, himself and his friends condemned to perpetual exile, with the provision that, if taken, they should be burned alive. After a fruitless attempt, by himself and his party, to surprise Florence, he quitted his companions in disgust, and passed the remainder of his life in wandering from one court of Italy to another, eating the bitter bread of dependence, which was granted him often as an alms. The greater part of his poem was composed during this period; but it appears that till the end of his life he continued to retouch the work.

The last and most generous patron of Dante was Guido di Polenta, lord of Ravenna, and father of Francesca da Rimini, whose fatal love forms one of the most beautiful episodes of this poem. Polenta treated him, not as a dependent but as an honored guest, and in a dispute with the Republic of Venice he employed the poet as his ambassador, to effect a reconciliation; but he was refused even an audience, and, returning disappointed and broken-hearted to Ravenna, he died soon after at the age of fifty-six, having been in exile nineteen years.

His fellow-citizens, who had closed their hearts and their gates against him while living, now deeply bewailed his death; and, during the two succeeding centuries, embassy after embassy was vainly sent from Florence to recover his honored remains. Not long after his death, those who had exiled him and confiscated his property provided that his poem should be read and expounded to the people in a church. Boccaccio was appointed to this professorship. Before the end of the sixteenth century, the "Divine Comedy" had gone through sixty editions.

The Divine Comedy is one of the greatest monuments of human genius. It is an allegory conceived in the form of a vision, which was the most popular style of poetry at that age. At the close of the year 1300 Dante represents himself as lost in a forest at the foot of a hill, near Jerusalem. He wishes to ascend it, but is prevented by a panther, a lion, and a she-wolf which beset the way. He is met by Virgil, who tells him that he is sent by Beatrice as a guide through the realm of shadows, hell, and purgatory, and that she will afterwards lead him up to heaven. They pass the gates of hell, and penetrate into the dismal region beyond. This, as represented by Dante, consists of nine circles, forming an inverted cone, of the size of the earth, each succeeding circle being lower and narrower than the former, while Lucifer is chained in the centre and at the bottom of the dreadful crater. Each circle contains various cavities, where the punishments vary in proportion to the guilt, and the suffering increases in intensity as the circles descend and contract. In the first circle were neither cries nor tears, but the eternal sighs of those who, having never received Christian baptism, were, according to the poet's creed, forever excluded from the abodes of bliss. In the next circle, appropriated to those whose souls had been lost by the indulgence of guilty love, the poet recognizes the unhappy Francesca da Rimini, whose history forms one of the most beautiful episodes of the poem. The third circle includes gluttons; the fourth misers and spendthrifts; each succeeding circle embracing what the poet deems a deeper shade of guilt, and inflicting appropriate punishment. The Christian and heathen systems of theology are here freely interwoven. We have Minos visiting the Stygian Lake, where heretics are burning; we meet Cerberus and the harpies, and we accompany the poet across several of the fabulous rivers of Erebus. A fearful scene appears in the deepest circle of the infernal abodes. Here, among those who have betrayed their country, and are entombed in eternal ice, is Count Ugolino, who, by a series of treasons, had made himself master of Pisa. He is gnawing with savage ferocity the skull of the archbishop of that state, who had condemned him and his children to die by starvation. The arch-traitor, Satan, stands fixed in the centre of hell and of the earth. All the streams of guilt keep flowing back to him as their source, and from beneath his threefold visage issue six gigantic wings with which he vainly struggles to raise himself, and thus produces winds which freeze him more firmly in the marsh.

After leaving the infernal regions, and entering purgatory, they find an immense cone divided into seven circles, each of which is devoted to the expiation of one of the seven mortal sins. The proud are overwhelmed with enormous weights; the envious are clothed in garments of horse-hair, their eye-lids closed; the choleric are suffocated with smoke; the indolent are compelled to run about continually; the avaricious are prostrated upon the earth; epicures are afflicted with hunger and thirst; and the incontinent expiate their crimes in fire. In this portion of the work, however, while there is much to admire, there is less to excite and sustain the interest. On the summit of the purgatorial mountain is the terrestrial paradise, whence is the only assent to the celestial. Beatrice, the object of his early and constant affection, descends hither to meet the poet. Virgil disappears, and she becomes his only guide. She conducts him through the nine heavens, and makes him acquainted with the great men who, by their virtuous lives, have deserved the highest enjoyments of eternity. In the ninth celestial sphere, Dante is favored with a manifestation of divinity, veiled, however, by three hierarchies of attending angels. He sees the Virgin Mary, and the saints of the Old and New Testament, and by these personages, and by Beatrice, all his doubts and difficulties are finally solved, and the conclusion leaves him absorbed in the beatific vision.

The allegorical meaning of the poem is hidden under the literal one. Dante, traveling through the invisible world, is a symbol of mankind aiming at the double object of temporal and eternal happiness. The forest typifies the civil and religious confusion of society deprived of its two judges, the pope and the emperor. The three beasts are the powers which offered the greatest obstacles to Dante's designs, Florence, France, and the papal court. Virgil represents reason and the empire, and Beatrice symbolizes the supernatural aid, without which man cannot attain the supreme end, which is God.

But the merit of the poem is that for the first time classic art is transferred into a Romance form. Dante is, above all, a great artist. Whether he describes nature, analyzes passions, curses the vices, or sings hymns to the virtues, he is always wonderful for the grandeur and delicacy of his art. He took his materials from mythology, history, and philosophy, but more especially from his own passions of hatred and love, breathed into them the breath of genius and produced the greatest work of modern times.

The personal interest that he brings to bear on the historical representation of the three worlds is that which most interests and stirs us. The Divine Comedy is not only the most lifelike drama of the thoughts and feelings that moved men at that time, but it is also the most spontaneous and clear reflection of the individual feelings of the poet, who remakes history after his own passions, and who is the real chastiser of the sins and rewarder of the virtues. He defined the destiny of Italian literature in the Middle Ages, and began the great era of the Renaissance.

4. PETRARCH.—Petrarch (1304-1374) belonged to a respected Florentine family. His father was the personal friend of Dante, and a partaker of the same exile. While at Avignon, then the seat of the papal court, on one occasion he made an excursion to the fountain of Vaucluse, taking with him his son, the future poet, then in the tenth year of his age. The wild and solitary aspect of the place inspired the boy with an enthusiasm beyond his years, leaving an impression which was never afterwards effaced, and which affected his future life and writings. As Petrarch grew up, unlike the haughty, taciturn, and sarcastic Dante, he seems to have made friends wherever he went. With splendid talents, engaging manners, a handsome person, and an affectionate and generous disposition, he became the darling of his age, a man whom princes delighted to honor. At the age of twenty-three, he first met Laura de Sade in a church at Avignon. She was only twenty years of age, and had been for three years the wife of a patrician of that city. Laura was not more distinguished for her beauty and fortune than for the unsullied purity of her manners in a licentious court, where she was one of the chief ornaments. The sight of her beauty inspired the young poet with an affection which was as pure and virtuous as it was tender and passionate. He poured forth in song the fervor of his love and the bitterness of his grief. Upwards of three hundred sonnets, written at various times, commemorate all the little circumstances of this attachment, and describe the favors which, during an acquaintance of fifteen or twenty years, never exceeded a kind word, a look less severe than usual, or a passing expression of regret at parting. He was not permitted to visit at Laura's house; he had no opportunity of seeing her except at mass, at the brilliant levees of the pope, or in private assemblies of beauty and fashion: but she forever remained the dominant object of his existence. He purchased a house at Vaucluse, and there, shut in by lofty and craggy heights, the river Sorgue traversing the valley on one side, amidst hills clothed with umbrageous trees, cheered only by the song of birds, the poet passed his lonely days. Again and again he made tours through Italy, Spain, and Flanders, during one of which he was crowned with the poet's laurel at Rome, but he always returned to Vaucluse, to Avignon, to Laura. Thus years passed away. Laura became the mother of a numerous family, and time and care made havoc of her youthful beauty. Meanwhile, the sonnets of Petrarch had spread her fame throughout France and Italy, and attracted many to the court of Avignon, who were surprised and disappointed at the sight of her whom they had believed to be the loveliest of mortals. In 1347, during the absence of the poet from Avignon, Laura fell a victim to the plague, just twenty-one years from the day that Petrarch first met her. Now all his love was deepened and consecrated, and the effusions of his poetic genius became more melancholy, more passionate, and more beautiful than ever. He declined the offices and honors that his countrymen offered him, and passed his life in retirement. He was found one morning by his attendants dead in his library, his head resting on a book.

The celebrity of Petrarch at the present day depends chiefly on his lyrical poems, which served as models to all the distinguished poets of southern Europe. They are restricted to two forms: the sonnet, borrowed from the Sicilians, and the canzone, from the Provençals. The subject of almost all these poems is the same—the hopeless affection of the poet for the high-minded Laura. This love was a kind of religious and enthusiastic passion, such as mystics imagine they feel towards the Deity, or such as Plato believes to be the bond of union between elevated minds. There is no poet in any language more perfectly pure than Petrarch—more completely above all reproach of laxity or immorality. This merit, which is equally due to the poet and to his Laura, is the more remarkable, considering the models which he followed and the court at which Laura lived. The labor of Petrarch in polishing his poems did much towards perfecting the language, which through him became more elegant and more melodious. He introduced into the lyric poetry of Italy the pathos and the touching sweetness of Ovid and Tibullus, as well as the simplicity of Anacreon.

Petrarch attached little value to his Italian poems; it was on his Latin works that he founded his hopes of renown. But his highest title to immortal fame is his prodigious labor to promote the study of ancient authors. Wherever he traveled, he sought with the utmost avidity for classic manuscripts, and it is difficult to estimate the effect produced by his enthusiasm. He corresponded with all the eminent literati of his day, and inspired them with his own tastes. Now for the first time there appeared a kind of literary republic in Europe united by the magic bond of Petrarch's influence, and he was better known and exercised a more extensive and powerful influence than many of the sovereigns of the day. He treated with various princes rather in the character of an arbitrator than an ambassador, and he not only directed the tastes of his own age, but he determined those of succeeding generations.

5. BOCCACCIO AND OTHER PROSE WRITERS.—The fourteenth century forms a brilliant era in Italian literature, distinguished beyond any other period for the creative powers of genius which it exhibited. In this century, Dante gave to Europe his great epic poem, the lyric muse awoke at the call of Petrarch, while Boccaccio created a style of prose, harmonious, flexible, and engaging, and alike suitable to the most elevated and to the most playful subjects.

Boccaccio (1313-1875) was the son of a Florentine merchant; he early gave evidence of superior talents, and his father vainly attempted to educate him to follow his own profession. He resided at Naples, where he became acquainted with a lady celebrated in his writings under the name of Fiammetta. It was at her desire that most of his early pieces were written, and the very exceptionable moral character which attaches to them must be attributed, in part, to her depraved tastes. The source of Boccaccio's highest reputation, and that which entitles him to rank as the third founder of the national literature, is his "Decameron," a collection of tales written during the period when the plague desolated the south of Europe, with a view to amuse the ladies of the court during that dreadful visitation. The tales are united under the supposition of a party of ten who had retired to one of the villas in the environs of Naples to strive, in the enjoyment of innocent amusement, to escape the danger of contagion. It was agreed that each person should tell a new story during the space of ten days, whence the title Decameron. The description of the plague, in the introduction, is considered not only the finest piece of writing from Boccaccio's pen, but one of the best historical descriptions that have descended to us. The stories, a hundred in number, are varied with considerable art, both in subject and in style, from the most pathetic and sportive to the most licentious. The great merit of Boccaccio's composition consists in his easy elegance, his naïveté, and, above all, in the correctness of his language.

The groundwork of the Decameron has been traced to an old Hindu romance, which, after passing through all the languages of the East, was translated into Latin as early as the twelfth century; the originals of several of these tales have been found in the ancient French Fabliaux, while others are believed to have been borrowed from popular recitation or from real occurrences. But if Boccaccio cannot boast of being the inventor of all, or even any of these tales, he is still the father of this class of modern Italian literature, since he was the first to transplant into the world of letters what had hitherto been only the subject of social mirth. These tales have in their turn been repeated anew in almost every language of Europe, and have afforded reputations to numerous imitators. One of the most beautiful and unexceptionable tales in the Decameron is that of "Griselda," the last in the collection. It is to be regretted that the author did not prescribe to himself the same purity in his images that he did in his phraseology. Many of these tales are not only immoral but grossly indecent, though but too faithful a representation of the manners of the age in which they were written. The Decameron was published towards the middle of the fourteenth century; and, from the first invention of printing, it was freely circulated in Italy, until the Council of Trent proscribed it in the middle of the sixteenth century. It was, however, again published in 1570, purified and abridged.

Boccaccio is the author of two romances, one called "Fiammetta," the other the "Filocopo;" the former distinguished for the fervor of its expression, the latter for the variety of its adventures and incidents. He wrote also two romantic poems, in which he first introduced the ottava rima, or the stanza composed of six lines, which rhyme interchangeably with each other, and are followed by a couplet. In these he strove to revive ancient mythology, and to identify it with modern literature. His Latin compositions are voluminous, and materially contributed to the advancement of letters.

While Boccaccio labored so successfully to reduce the language to elegant and harmonious forms, he strove like Petrarch to excite his contemporaries to the study of the ancient classics. He induced the senate of Florence to establish a professorship of Greek, entered his name among the first of the students, and procured manuscripts at his own expense. Thus Hellenic literature was introduced into Tuscany, and thence into the rest of Europe.

Boccaccio, late in life, assumed the ecclesiastical habit, and entered on the study of theology. When the Florentines founded a professorship for the reading and exposition of the Divine Comedy, Boccaccio was made the first incumbent. The result of his labors was a life of Dante, and a commentary on the first seventeen cantos of the Inferno. With the death of Petrarch, who had been his most intimate friend, his last tie to earth was loosed; he died at Certaldo a few months later, in the sixty-third year of his age. His dwelling is still to be seen, situated on a hill, and looking down on the fertile and beautiful valley watered by the river Elsa.

Of the other prose writers of the fourteenth century the most remarkable are the three Florentine historians named Villani, the eldest of whom (1310-1348) wrote a history of Florence, which was continued afterwards by his brother and by his nephew; a work highly esteemed for its historical interest, and for its purity of language and style; and Franco Sacchetti (1335-1400), who approaches nearest to Boccaccio. His "Novels and Tales" are valuable for the purity and eloquence of their style, and for the picture they afford of the manners of his age.

Among the ascetic writers of this age St. Catherine of Siena occupies an important place, as one who aided in preparing the way for the great religious movement of the sixteenth century. The writings of this extraordinary woman, who strove to bring back the Church of Rome to evangelical virtue, are the strongest, clearest, most exalted religious utterance that made itself heard in Italy in the fourteenth century.

6. THE FIRST DECLINE OF ITALIAN LITERATURE.—The passionate study of the ancients, of which Petrarch and Boccaccio had given an example, suspended the progress of Italian literature in the latter part of the fourteenth century, and through almost all the fifteenth. The attention of the literary men of this time was wholly engrossed by the study of the dead languages, and of manners, customs, and religious systems equally extinct. They present to our observation boundless erudition, a just spirit of criticism, and nice sensibility to the beauties and defects of the great authors of antiquity; but we look in vain for that true eloquence which is more the fruit of an intercourse with the world than of a knowledge of books. They were still more unsuccessful in poetry, in which their attempts, all in Latin, are few in number, and their verses harsh and heavy, without originality or vigor. It was not until the period when Italian poetry began to be again cultivated, that Latin verse acquired any of the characteristics of genuine inspiration.

But towards the close of the fifteenth century the dawn of a new literary era appeared, which soon shone with meridian light. At this time, the universities had become more and more the subjects of attention to the governments; the appointment of eminent professors, and the privileges connected with these institutions, attracted to them large numbers of students, and the concourse was often so great that the lectures were delivered in the churches and in public squares. Those republics which still existed, and the princes who had risen on the ruins of the more ephemeral ones, rivaled each other in their patronage of literary men; the popes, who in the preceding ages had denounced all secular learning, now became its munificent patrons; and two of them, Nicholas V. and Pius II., were themselves scholars of high distinction. The Dukes of Milan, and the Marquises of Mantua and Ferrara, surrounded themselves in their capitals with men illustrious in science and letters, and seemed to vie with each other in the favors which they lavished upon them. In the hitherto free republic of Florence, which had given birth to Dante, Petrarch, and Boccaccio, literature found support in a family which, at no distant period, employed it to augment their power, and to rule the city with an almost despotic sway. The Medici had been long distinguished for the wealth they had acquired by commercial enterprise, and for the high offices which they held in the republic. Cosmo de' Medici had acquired a degree of power which shook the very foundations of the state. He was master of the moneyed credit of Europe, and almost the equal of the kings with whom he negotiated; but in the midst of the projects of his ambition he opened his palace as an asylum to the scholars and artists of the age, turned its gardens into an academy, and effected a revolution in philosophy by setting up the authority of Plato against that of Aristotle. His banks, which were scattered over Europe, were placed at the service of literature as well as commerce. His agents abroad sold spices and bought manuscripts; the vessels which returned to him from Constantinople, Alexandria, and Smyrna were often laden with volumes in the Greek, Syriac, and Chaldaic languages. Being banished to Venice, he continued his protection of letters, and on his return to Florence he devoted himself more than ever to the cause of literature. In the south of Italy, Alphonso V., and, indeed, all the sovereigns of that age, pursued the same course, and chose for their chancellors and ambassadors the same scholars who educated their sons and expounded the classics in their literary circles.

This patronage, however, was confined to the progress of ancient letters, while the native literature, instead of redeeming the promise of its infancy, remained at this time mute and inglorious. Yet the resources of poets and orators were multiplying a thousand fold. The exalted characters, the austere laws, the energetic virtues, the graceful mythology, the thrilling eloquence of antiquity, were annihilating the puerilities of the old Italian rhymes, and creating purer and nobler tastes. The clay which was destined for the formation of great men was undergoing a new process; a fresh mould was cast, the forms at first appeared lifeless, but ere the end of the fifteenth century the breath of genius entered into them, and a new era of life began.

PERIOD SECOND.

REVIVAL OF ITALIAN LITERATURE AND ITS SECOND DECLINE (1476-1675).

1. THE CLOSE OF THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY.—The first man who contributed to the restoration of Italian poetry was Lorenzo de' Medici (1448-1492), the grandson of Cosmo. In the brilliant society that he gathered around him, a new era was opened in Italian literature. Himself a poet, he attempted to restore poetry to the condition in which Petrarch had left it; although superior in some respects to that poet, he had less power of versification, less sweetness, and harmony, but his ideas were more natural, and his style was more simple. He attempted all kinds of poetical composition, and in all he displayed the versatility of his talents and the exuberance of his imagination. But to Lorenzo poetry was but an amusement, scarcely regarded in his brilliant political career. He concentrated in himself all the power of the republic—he was the arbiter of the whole political state of Italy, and from the splendor with which he surrounded himself, and his celebrity, he received the title of Lorenzo the Magnificent. He continued to collect manuscripts, and to employ learned men to prepare them for printing. His Platonic Academy extended its researches into new paths of study. The collection of antique sculpture, the germ of the gallery of Florence, which had been established by Cosmo, he enriched, and gave to it a new destination, which was the occasion of imparting fresh life and vigor to the liberal arts. He appropriated a part of his gardens to serve as a school for the study of the antique, and placed his statues, busts, and other models of art in the shrubberies, terraces, and buildings. Young men were liberally paid for the copies which they made while pursuing their studies. It was this institution that kindled the flame of genius in the breast of Michael Angelo, and to it must be attributed the splendor which was shed by the fine arts over the close of the fifteenth century, and which extended rapidly from Florence throughout Italy, and over a great part of Europe. Among the friends of Lorenzo may be mentioned Pico della Mirandola (1463- 1494), one of the most prominent men of his age, who left in his Latin and Italian works monuments of his vast erudition and exuberant talent.

The fifteenth century closed brightly on Florence, but it was otherwise throughout Italy. Some of its princes still patronized the sciences, but most of them were engaged in the intrigues of ambition; and the storms which were gathering soon burst on Florence itself. Shortly after the death of Lorenzo, nearly the whole of Italy fell under the rule of Charles VIII., and the voice of science and literature was drowned in the clash of arms; military violence dispersed the learned men, and pillage destroyed or scattered the literary treasures. Literature and the arts, banished from their long-loved home, sought another asylum. We find them again at Rome, cherished by a more powerful and fortunate protector, Pope Leo X., the son of Lorenzo (1475-1521). Though his patronage was confined to the fine arts and to the lighter kinds of composition, yet owing to the influence of the newly-invented art of printing, the discovery of Columbus, and the Reformation, new energies were imparted to the age, the Italian mind was awakened from its slumber, and prepared for a new era in literature.

2. THE ORIGIN OF THE DRAMA AND ROMANTIC EPIC.—Among the gifted individuals in the circle of Lorenzo, the highest rank may be assigned to Poliziano (1454-1494). He revived on the modern stage the tragedies of the ancients, or rather created a new kind of pastoral tragedy, on which Tasso did not disdain to employ his genius. His "Orpheus," composed within ten days, was performed at the Mantuan court in 1483, and may be considered as the first dramatic composition in Italian. The universal homage paid to Virgil had a decided influence on this kind of poetry. His Bucolics were looked upon as dramas more poetical than those of Terence and Seneca. The comedies of Plautus were represented, and the taste for theatrical performances was eagerly renewed. In these representations, however, the object in view was the restoration of the classics rather than the amusement of the public; and the new dramatists confined themselves to a faithful copy of the ancients. But the Orpheus of Poliziano caused a revolution. The beauty of the verse, the charm of the music, and the decorations which accompanied its recital, produced an excitement of feeling and intellect that combined to open the way for the true dramatic art.

At the same time, several eminent poets devoted their attention to that style of composition which was destined to form the glory of Ariosto. The trouvères chose Charlemagne and his paladins as the heroes of their poems and romances, and these, composed for the most part in French in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, were early circulated in Italy. Their origin accorded with the vivacity of the prevailing religious sentiment, the violence of the passions and the taste for adventures which distinguished the first crusades; while from the general ignorance of the times, their supernatural agency was readily admitted. But at the close of the fifteenth century, when the poets possessed themselves of these old romances, in order to give a variety to the adventures of their heroes, the belief in the marvelous was much diminished, and they could not be recounted without a mixture of mockery. The spirit of the age did not admit in the Italian language a subject entirely serious. He who made pretensions to fame was compelled to write in Latin, and the choice of the vulgar tongue was the indication of a humorous subject. The language had developed since the time of Boccaccio a character of naïveté mingled with satire, which still remains, and which is particularly remarkable in Ariosto.

The "Morgante Maggiore" of Pulci (1431-1470) is the first of these romantic poems. It is alternately burlesque and serious, and it abounds with passages of great pathos and beauty. The "Orlando Innamorato" of Boiardo (1430-1494) is a poem somewhat similar to that of Pulci. It was, however, remodeled by Berni, sixty years after the death of the author, and from the variety and novelty of the adventures, the richness of its descriptions, the interest excited by its hero, and the honor rendered to the female sex, it excels the Morgante.

3. ROMANTIC EPIC POETRY.—The romances of chivalry, which had been thus versified by Pulci and Boiardo, were elevated to the rank of epic poetry by the genius of Ariosto (1474-1533). He was born at Reggio, of which place his father was governor. As the means of improving his resources, he early attached himself to the service of Cardinal D'Este, and afterwards to that of the Duke of Ferrara. At the age of thirty years he commenced his "Orlando Furioso," and continued the composition for eleven years. While the work was in progress, he was in the habit of reading the cantos, as they were finished, at the courts of the cardinal and duke, which may account for the manner in which this hundred-fold tale is told, as if delivered spontaneously before scholars and princes, who assembled to listen to the marvelous adventures of knights and ladies, giants and magicians, from the lips of the story-teller. Ariosto excelled in the practice of reading aloud with distinct utterance and animated elocution, an accomplishment of peculiar value at a time when books were scarce, and the emoluments of authors depended more on the gratuities of their patrons than the sale of their works. In each of the four editions which he published, he improved, corrected, and enlarged the original. No poet, perhaps, ever evinced more fastidious taste in adjusting the nicer points that affected the harmony, dignity, and fluency of his composition, yet the whole seems as natural as if it had flowed extemporaneously from his pen. Throughout life it was the lot of Ariosto to struggle against the difficulties inseparable from narrow and precarious circumstances. His patrons, among them Leo X., were often culpable in exciting expectations, and afterwards disappointing them. The earliest and latest works of Ariosto, though not his best, were dramatic. He wrote also some satires in the form of epistles. He died in the fifty-eighth year of his age, and his ashes now rest under the magnificent monument in the new church of the Benedictines in Ferrara. The house in which the poet lived, the chair in which he was wont to study, and the inkstand whence he filled his pen, are still shown as interesting memorials of his life and labors.

Ariosto, like Pulci and Boiardo, undertook to sing the paladins and their amours at the court of Charlemagne, during the fabulous wars of this emperor against the Moors. In his poem he seems to have designedly thrown off the embarrassment of a unity of action. The Orlando Furioso is founded on three principal narratives, distinct but often intermingled; the history of the war between Charlemagne and the Saracens, Orlando's love for Angelica, his madness on hearing of her infidelity, and Ruggiero's attachment to Bradamante. These stories are interwoven with so many incidents and episodes, and there is in the poem such a prodigious quantity of action, that it is difficult to assign it a central point. Indeed, Ariosto, playing with his readers, seems to delight in continually misleading them, and allows them no opportunity of viewing the general subject of the poem. This want of unity is essentially detrimental to the general impression of the work, and the author has succeeded in throwing around its individual parts an interest which does not attach to it as a whole. The world to which the poet transports his readers is truly poetic; all the factitious wants of common life, its cold calculations and its imaginary distinctions, disappear; love and honor reign supreme, and the prompting of the one and the laws of the other are alone permitted to stimulate and regulate a life, of which war is the only business and gallantry the only pastime. The magic and sorcery, borrowed from the East, which pervade these chivalric fictions, lead us still farther from the world of realities. Nor is it the least charm that all the wonders and prodigies here related are made to appear quite probable from the apparently artless, truthful style of the narration. The versification of the Orlando is more distinguished for sweetness and elegance than for strength; but, in point of harmony, and in the beauty, pathos, and grace of his descriptions, no poet surpasses Ariosto.

4. HEROIC EPIC POETRY.—While, in the romantic epic of the Middle Ages, unity of design was considered unnecessary, and truthfulness of detail, fertility of imagination, strength of coloring, and vivacity of narration were alone required, heroic poetry was expected to exhibit, on the most extensive scale, those laws of symmetry which adapt all the parts to one object, which combine variety with unity, and, as it were, initiate us into the secrets of creation, by disclosing the single idea which governs the most dissimilar actions, and harmonizes the most opposite interests. It was reserved to Torquato Tasso to raise the Italian language to this kind of epic poetry.

Tasso (1544-1595) was born in Sorrento, and many marvels are told by his biographers of the precocity of his genius. Political convulsions early drove his father into exile. He went to Rome and sent for his son, then ten years of age. When the exiles were no longer safe at Rome, an asylum was offered them at Pesaro by the Duke of Urbino. Here young Tasso pursued his studies in all the learning and accomplishments of the age. In his seventeenth year he had completed the composition of an epic poem on the adventures of Rinaldo, which was received with passionate admiration throughout Italy. The appearance of this poem proved not only the beginning of the author's fame, but the dawn of a new day in Italian literature. In 1565, Tasso was nominated by the Cardinal D'Este as gentleman of his household, and his reception at the court was in every respect most pleasing to his youthful ambition. He was honored by the intimate acquaintance of the accomplished princesses Lucretia and Leonora, and to this dangerous friendship must be attributed most of his subsequent misfortunes, if it be true that he cherished a secret attachment for Leonora.

During this prosperous period of his life, Tasso prosecuted his great epic poem, the "Jerusalem Delivered," and as canto after canto was completed and recited to the princesses, he found in their applause repeated stimulus to proceed. While steadily engaged in his great work, his fancy gave birth to numerous fugitive poems, the most remarkable of which is the "Aminta." After its representation at the court of Ferrara, all Italy resounded with the poet's fame. It was translated into all the languages of Europe, and the name of Tasso would have been immortal even though he had never composed an epic. The various vexations he endured regarding the publication of his work at its conclusion, the wrongs he suffered from both patrons and rivals, together with disappointed ambition, rendered him the subject of feverish anxiety and afterwards the prey of restless fear and continual suspicion. His mental malady increased, and he wandered from place to place without finding any permanent home. Assuming the disguise of a shepherd, he traveled to Sorrento, to visit his sister; but soon, tired of seclusion, he obtained permission to return to the court of Ferrara. He was coldly received by the duke, and was refused an interview with the princesses. He left the place in indignation, and wandered from one city of Italy to another, reduced to the appearance of a wretched itinerant, sometimes kindly received, sometimes driven away as a vagabond, always restless, suspicious, and unhappy. In this mood he again returned to Ferrara, at a moment when the duke was too much occupied with the solemnities of his own marriage to attend to the complaints of the poet. Tasso became infuriated, retracted all the praises he had bestowed on the house of Este, and indulged in the bitterest invectives against the duke, by whose orders he was afterwards committed to the hospital for lunatics, where he was closely confined, and treated with extreme rigor. If he had never been insane before, he certainly now became so. To add to his misfortune, his poem was printed without his permission, from an imperfect copy, and while editors and printers enriched themselves with the fruit of his labors, the poet himself was languishing in a dungeon, despised, neglected, sick, and destitute of the common conveniences of life, and above all, deafened by the frantic cries with which the hospital continually resounded. When the first rigors of his imprisonment were relaxed, Tasso pursued his studies, and poured forth his emotions in every form of verse. Some of his most beautiful minor poems were composed during this period. After more than seven years' confinement, the poet was liberated at the intercession of the Duke of Mantua. Prom this time he wandered from city to city; the hallucinations of his mind never entirely ceased. Towards the close of the year 1594 he took up his residence at Rome, where he died at the age of fifty-two.

Tasso was particularly happy in choosing the most engaging subject that could inspire a modern poet—the struggle between the Christians and the Saracens. The Saracens considered themselves called on to subjugate the earth to the faith of Mohammed; the Christians to enfranchise the sacred spot where their divine founder suffered death. The religion of the age was wholly warlike. It was a profound, disinterested, enthusiastic, and poetic sentiment, and no period has beheld such a brilliant display of valor. The belief in the supernatural, which formed a striking characteristic of the time, seemed to have usurped the laws of nature and the common course of events.

The faith against which the crusaders fought appeared to them the worship of the powers of darkness. They believed that a contest might exist between invisible beings as between different nations, and when Tasso armed the dark powers of enchantment against the Christian knights, he only developed and embellished a popular idea.

The scene of the Jerusalem Delivered, so rich in recollections and associations with all our religious feelings, is one in which nature displays her riches and treasures, and where descriptions, in turn the most lovely and the most austere, attract the pen of the poet. All the nations of Christendom send forth their warriors to the army of the cross, and the whole world thus becomes his patrimony. Whatever interest the taking of Troy might possess for the Greeks, or the vanity of the Romans might attach to the adventures of AEneas, whom they adopted as their progenitor, it may be asserted that neither the Iliad nor the Aeneid possesses the dignity of subject, the interest at the same time divine and human, and the varied dramatic action which are peculiar to the Jerusalem Delivered.

The whole course of the poem is comprised in the campaign of 1093, when the Christian army, assembled on the plain of Tortosa, marched towards Jerusalem, which they besieged and captured. From the commencement of the poem, the most tender sentiments are combined with the action, and love has been assigned a nobler part than had been given to it in any other epic poem. Love, enthusiastic, respectful, and full of homage, was an essential characteristic of chivalry and the source of the noblest actions. While with the heroes of the classic epic it was a weakness, with the Christian knights it was a devotion. In this work are happily combined the classic and romantic styles. It is classic in its plan, romantic in its heroes; it is conceived in the spirit of antiquity, and executed in the spirit of medieval romance. It has the beauty which results from unity of design and from the harmony of all its parts, united with the romantic form, which falls in with the feelings, the passions, and the recollections of Europeans. Notwithstanding some defects, which must be attributed rather to the taste of his age than to his genius, in the history of literature Tasso may be placed by the side of Homer and Virgil.

5. LYRIC POETRY.—Lyric poetry, which had been brought to such perfection by Petrarch in the fourteenth century, but almost lost sight of in the fifteenth, was cultivated by all the Italian poets of this period. Petrarch became the model, which every aspirant endeavored to imitate. Hence arose a host of poetasters, who wrote with considerable elegance, but without the least power of imagination. We must not, however, confound with the servile imitators of Petrarch those who took nothing from his school but purity of language and elegance of style, and who consecrated the lyre not to love alone, but to patriotism and religion. First of these are Poliziano and Lorenzo de' Medici, in whose ballads and stanzas the language of Petrarch reappeared with all its beauty and harmony. Later, Cardinal Bembo (1470-1547), Molza (1489-1544), Tarsia (1476-1535), Guidiccioni (1480-1541), Della Casa (1503-1556), Costanzo (1507-1585), and later still, Chiabrera (1552-1637), attempted to restore Italian poetry to its primitive elegance. Their sonnets and canzoni contributed much to the revival of a purer style, although their elegance is often too elaborate and their thoughts and feelings too artificial. Besides these, Ariosto, Tasso, Machiavelli, and Michael Angelo, whose genius was practiced in more ambitious tasks, did not disdain to shape and polish such diminutive gems as the canzone, the madrigal, and the sonnet.

This reform of taste in lyric composition was also promoted by several women, among whom the most distinguished at once for beauty, virtue, and talent was Vittoria Colonna (1490-1547). She was daughter of the high constable of Naples, and married to the Marquis of Pescara. Early left a widow, she abandoned herself to sorrow. That fidelity which made her refuse the hand of princes in her youth, rendered her incapable of a second attachment in her widowhood. The solace of her life was to mourn the loss and cherish the memory of Pescara. After passing several years in retirement, Vittoria took up her residence at Rome, and became the intimate friend of the distinguished men of her time. Her verses, though deficient in poetic fancy, are full of tenderness and absorbing passion. Vittoria Colonna was reckoned by her contemporaries as a being almost more than human, and the epithet divine was usually prefixed to her name. By her death-bed stood Michael Angelo, who was considerably her junior, but who enjoyed her friendship and regarded her with enthusiastic veneration. He wrote several sonnets in her praise. Veronica Gambara, Tullia d'Aragona, and Giulia Gonzaga may also be named as possessing superior genius to many literary men of their time.

6. DRAMATIC POETRY.—Tragedy, in the hands of the Romans, had exhibited no national characteristics, and disappeared with the decline of their literature. When Europe began to breathe again, the natural taste of the multitude for games and spectacles revived; the church entertained the people with its representations, which, however, were destitute of all literary character. At the commencement of the fourteenth century we find traces of Latin tragedies, and these, during the fifteenth century, were frequently represented, as we have seen, more as a branch of ancient art and learning than as matter of recreation. After the "Orpheus" of Poliziano had appeared on the stage, the first drama in the Italian tongue, Latin tragedies and comedies were translated into the Italian, but as yet no one had ventured beyond mere translation.

Leo X. shed over the dramatic art the same favor which he bestowed on the other liberal arts, and the theatricals of the Vatican were of the most splendid description. During his pontificate, Trissino (1478-1550) dedicated to him the tragedy of "Sofonisba," formed on the Greek model, the first regular tragedy which had appeared since the revival of letters. Its subject is found entire in the work of Livy, and the invention of the poet has added little to the records of the historian. The piece is not divided into acts and scenes, and the only repose given to the action is by the chorus, who sing odes and lyric stanzas. The story is well conducted, the characters are all dramatic, and the incidents arise spontaneously out of each other; but the style of the tragedy has neither the sublimity nor the originality which becomes this kind of composition, and which distinguished the genius of the dramatic poets of Athens.

The example of Trissino was followed by Rucellai (1475-1525), who left two dramas, "Rosamunda" and "Orestes," written in blank verse, with a chorus, much resembling the Greek tragedies. This poet used much more license with his subject than Trissino; his plot is less simple and pathetic, but abounds in horror, and his style is florid and rhetorical. Tasso, Speroni (1500-1588), Giraldi (1504-1573), and others, attempted also this species of composition, and their dramas are considered the best of the age.

As the tragic poets of this century servilely imitated Sophocles and Euripides, the comic writers copied Plautus and Terence. The comedies of Ariosto, of which there are five, display considerable ingenuity of invention and an elegant vivacity of language. The dramatic works of Machiavelli approach more nearly to the middle comedy of the Greeks. They depict and satirize contemporaneous rather than obsolete manners, but the characters and plots awaken little interest.

Bentivoglio (1506-1573), Salviati (1540-1589), Firenzuola (1493-1547), Caro (1507-1566), Cardinal Bibiena, (1470-1520), Aretino (1492-1556), and others, are among the principal comic writers of the age, who displayed more or less dramatic talent. Of all the Italian comedies composed in the sixteenth century, however, scarcely one was the work of eminent genius. A species of comic drama, known under the name of Commedia dell' arte, took its rise in this century. The characteristic of these plays is that the story only belongs to the poet, the dialogue being improvised by the actors. The four principal characters, denominated masks, were Pantaloon, a merchant of Venice, a doctor of laws from Bologna, and two servants, known to us as Harlequin and Columbine. When we add to these a couple of sons, one virtuous and the other profligate; a couple of daughters, and a pert, intriguing chambermaid, we have nearly the whole dramatis personae of these plays. The extempore dialogue by which the plot was developed was replete with drollery and wit, and there was no end to the novelty of the jests.

7. PASTORAL DRAMA AND DIDACTIC POETRY.—The pastoral drama, which describes characters and passions in their primitive simplicity, is thus distinguished from tragedy and comedy. It is probable that the idyls of the Greeks afforded the first germ of this species of composition, but Beccari, a poet of Ferrara (1510-1590), is considered the father of the genuine pastoral drama. Before him Sannazzaro (1458-1530) had written the "Arcadia," which, however, bears the character of an eclogue rather than that of a drama. It is written in the choicest Italian; its versification is melodious, and it abounds with beautiful descriptions; as an imitation of the ancients, it is entitled to the highest rank. The beauty of the Italian landscape and the softness of the Italian climate seem naturally fitted to dispose the poetic soul to the dreams of rural life, and the language seems, by its graceful simplicity, peculiarly adapted to express the feelings of a class of people whom we picture to ourselves as ingenuous and infantine in their natures. The manners of the Italian peasantry are more truly pastoral than those of any other people, and a bucolic poet in that fair region need not wander to Arcadia. But Sannazzaro, like all the early pastoral poets of Italy, proposed to himself, as the highest excellence, a close imitation of Virgil; he took his shepherds from the fabulous ages of antiquity, borrowed the mythology of the Greeks, and completed the machinery with fauns, nymphs, and satyrs. Like Sannazzaro, Beccari places his shepherds in Arcadia, and invests them with ancient manners; but he goes beyond mere dialogue; he connects their conversations by a series of dramatic actions. The representation of one of these poems incited Tasso to the composition of his "Aminta," the success of which was due less to the interest of the story than to the sweetness of the poetry, and the soft voluptuousness which breathes in every line. It is written in flowing verse of various measures, without rhyme, and enriched with lyric choruses of uncommon beauty.

The imitations of the Aminta were numerous, but, with one exception, which has disputed the palm with its model, they had an ephemeral existence. Guarini (1537-1612) was the author of the "Pastor Fido," which is the principal monument of his genius; its chief merit lies in the poetry in which the tale is embodied, the simplicity and clearness of the diction, the tenderness of the sentiments, and the vehement passion which gives life to the whole. This drama was first performed in 1585, at Turin, during the nuptial festivities of the Prince of Savoy. Its success was triumphant, and Guarini was justly considered as second only to Tasso among the poets of the age. Theatrical music, which was now beginning to be cultivated, found its way into the acts of the pastoral drama, and in one scene of the Pastor Fido it is united with dancing; thus was opened the way for the Italian opera.

Among the didactic poets, Rucellai may be first mentioned. His poem of "The Bees" is an imitation of the fourth book of the Georgics; he does not, however, servilely follow his model, but gives an original coloring to that which he borrowed. Alamanni (1495-1556) occupies a secondary rank among epic, tragic, and comic poets, but merits a distinguished place in didactic poetry. His poem entitled "Cultivation" is pure and elegant in its style.

8. SATIRICAL POETRY, NOVELS, AND TALES.—In an age when every kind of poetry that had flourished among the Greeks and Romans appeared again with new lustre, satire was not wanting. There is much that is satirical in the "Divine Comedy" of Dante. Three of Petrarch's sonnets are satires on the court of Rome; those of Ariosto are valuable not only for their flowing style, but for the details they afford of his character, taste, and circumstances. The satires of Alamanni are chiefly political, and in general are characterized by purity of diction and by a high moral tendency.

There is a kind of jocose or burlesque satire peculiar to Italy, in which the literature is extremely rich. If it serves the cause of wisdom, it is always in the mask of folly. The poet who carried this kind of writing to the highest perfection was Berni (1499-1536). Comic poetry, hitherto known in Italy as burlesque, of which Burchiello was the representative in the fifteenth century, received from Berni the name of Bernesque, in its more refined and elegant character. His satirical poems are full of light and elegant mockery, and his style possesses nature and comic truth. In his hand, everything was transformed into ridicule; his satire is almost always personal, and his laughter is not always restrained by respect for morals or for decency. To burlesque poetry may be referred also the Macaronic style, a ludicrous mixture of Latin and Italian, introduced by Merlino Coccajo (1491-1544). His poems are as full of lively descriptions and piquant satire as they are wanting in decorum and morality.

The story-tellers of the sixteenth century are numerous. Sometimes they appear as followers of Boccaccio; sometimes they attempt to open new paths for themselves. The class of productions, of which the "Decameron" was the earliest example in the fourteenth century, is called by the Italians "Novelle." In general, the interest of the tale depends rather on a number of incidents slightly touched, than on a few carefully delineated; from the difficulty of developing character in a few isolated scenes, the story-teller trusts for effect to the combination of incident and style, and the delineation of character, which is the nobler part of fiction, is neglected. Italian novelists, too, have often regarded the incidents themselves but as a vehicle for fine writing. An interesting view of these productions is, that they form a vast repository of incident, in which we recognize the origin of much that has since appeared in our own and other languages.

Machiavelli was one of the first novelists of this age. His little tale, "Belfagor," is pleasantly told, and has been translated into all languages. The celebrated "Giulietta" of Luigi da Porta is the sole production of the author, but it has served to give him a high place among Italian novelists. This is Shakspeare's Romeo and Juliet in another shape, though it is not probable that it was the immediate source from which the great dramatist collected the materials for his tragedy. The "Hundred Tales" of Cinzio Giraldi (1504-1573) are distinguished by great boldness of conception, and by a wild and tragic horror which commands the attention, while it is revolting to the feelings. He appears to have ransacked every age and country, and to have exhausted the catalogue of human crimes in procuring subjects for his novels.

Grazzini, called Lasca (1503-1583), is perhaps the best of the Italian novelists after Boccaccio. His manner is light and graceful. His stories display much ingenuity, but are often improbable and cruel in their nature. The Fairy Tales of Strapparola (b. 1500) are the earliest specimens of the kind in the prose literature of Italy, and this work has been a perfect storehouse from which succeeding writers have derived a vast multitude of their tales. To this, also, we are indebted for the legend of "Fair Star," "Puss in Boots," "Fortunio," and others which adorn our nursery libraries.

Firenzuola (1493-1547) occupies a high rank among the Italian novelists; his "Golden Ass," from Apuleius, and his "Discourses of Animals" are distinguished for their originality and purity of style.

Bandello (1480-1562) is the novelist best known to foreigners after Boccaccio. Shakspeare and other English dramatists have drawn largely from his voluminous writings. His tales are founded upon history rather than fancy.

9. HISTORY.—Historical composition was cultivated with much success by the Italians of the sixteenth century; yet such was the altered state of things, that, except at Venice and Genoa, republics had been superseded by princes, and republican authority by the pomp of regal courts. Home was a nest of intrigue, luxury, and corruption; Tuscany had become the prey of a powerful family; Lombardy was but a battle-field for the rival powers of France and Germany, and the lot of the people was oppression and humiliation. High independence of mind, one of the most valuable qualities in connection with historical research, was impossible under these circumstances, and yet, some of the Italian writers of this age exhibit genius, strength of character, and a conscientious sense of the sacred commission of the historian.

Machiavelli (1469-1527) was born in Florence of a family which had enjoyed the first offices in the republic. At the age of thirty, he was made chancellor of the state, and from that time he was constantly employed in public affairs, and particularly in embassies. Among those to the smaller princes of Italy, the one of the longest duration was to Caesar Borgia, whom he narrowly observed at the very important period when this illustrious villain was elevating himself by his crimes, and whose diabolical policy he had thus an opportunity of studying. He had a considerable share in directing the counsels of the republic, and the influence to which he owed his elevation was that of the free party, which censured the power of the Medici, and at that time held them in exile. When the latter were recalled, Machiavelli was deprived of all his offices and banished. He then entered into a conspiracy against the usurpers, which was discovered, and he was put to the torture, but without wresting from him any confession which could impeach either himself or those who had confided in his honor. Leo X., on his elevation to the pontificate, restored him to liberty. At this time he wrote his "History of Florence," in which he united eloquence of style with depth of reflection, and although an elegant, animated, and picturesque composition, it is not the fruit of much research or criticism.

Besides this history, Machiavelli wrote his discourses on the first decade of Livy, considered his best work, and "The Art of War," which is an invaluable commentary on the history of the times. These works had the desired effect of inducing the Medici family to use the political services of the author, and at the request of Leo X. he wrote his essay "On the Reform of the Florentine Government."

Guicciardini (1483-1541), the friend of Machiavelli, is considered the greatest historian of this age. He attached himself to the service of Leo X., and was raised to high offices and honors by him and the two succeeding popes. On the expulsion of the Medici from Florence, the republican party having obtained the ascendency, he was obliged to fly from the city. From this time he manifested an utter abhorrence of all popular institutions, and threw himself heart and soul into the interests of the Medici. He displayed his zeal at the expense of the lives and liberties of the most virtuous among his fellow-citizens. Having aided in the elevation of Cosmo, afterwards Grand Duke of Tuscany, and being requited with ingratitude and neglect, he retired in disgust from public life, and devoted himself wholly to the completion of his history of Italy. This work, which is a monument of his genius and industry, commences with the coming of Charles VIII. to Italy, and concludes with the year 1534, embracing one of the most important periods of Italian history. His powerfully-drawn pictures exhibit the men and the times so vividly, that they seem to pass before our eyes. His delineations of character, his masterly views of the course of events, the conduct of leaders, and the changes of war, claim our highest admiration. His language is pure and his style elegant, though sometimes too Latinized; his letters are considered as a most valuable contribution to the history of his times.

Numberless historians, of more or less merit, stimulated by the renown of Machiavelli and Guicciardini, composed annals of the states to which they belonged, while others undertook to write the histories of foreign nations. Nardi (1496-1556), one of the most ardent and pure patriots of his age, takes the first place. He wrote the history of the Florentine Revolution of 1527, a work which, though defective in style, is distinguished for its truthfulness. The histories of Florence by Adriani, Varchi, and Segni (1499-1559), are considered the best works of their kind, for elegance of style and for interest of the narrative. Almost all the other cities of Italy had their historians, but the palm must be awarded to the Florentine writers, not only on account of their number, but for the elegance and purity of their style, for their impartiality and the sagacity of their research into matters of fact. Among the writers of the second class may be mentioned Davanzati (1519), the translator of Tacitus, who wrote, in the Florentine dialect, a history of the schism of England; Giambullari (1495-1564), who wrote a history of Europe; D'Anghiera (fl. 1536), who, after having examined the papers of Christopher Columbus, and the official reports transmitted from America to Spain, compiled an interesting work on "Ocean Navigation and the New World." His style is incorrect; but this is compensated for by the fidelity of his narration. Several of the German States, France, the Netherlands, Poland, Hungary, and the East Indies, found Italian authors in this age to digest and arrange their chronicles, and give them historical form.

To this period belong also the "Lives of the Most Celebrated Artists," written by Vasari (1512-1574), himself a distinguished artist, a work highly interesting for its subject and style, and the Autobiography of Benvenuto Cellini (b. 1500), one of the most curious works which was ever written in any language.

10. GRAMMAR AND RHETORIC.—The Italian language was used both in writing and conversation for three centuries before its rules and principles were reduced to a scientific form. Bembo was the first scholar who established the grammar. Grammatical writings and researches were soon multiplied and extended. Salviati was one of the most prominent grammarians of the sixteenth century, and Buonmattei and Cinonio of the seventeenth. But the progress in this study was due less to the grammarians than to the Dictionary della Crusca. Among the scholars who took part in the exercises of the Florentine Academy, founded by Cosmo de' Medici, there were some who, dissatisfied with the philosophical disputations which were the object of this institution, organized another association for the purpose of giving a new impulse to the study of the language. This academy, inaugurated in 1587, was called della Crusca, literally, of the bran. The object of this new association being to sift all impurities from the language, a sieve, the emblem of the academy, was placed In the hall; the members at their meetings sat on flour-barrels, and the chair of the presiding officer stood on three mill-stones. The first work of the academy was to compile a universal dictionary of the Italian language, which was published in 1612. Though the Dictionary della Crusca was conceived in an exclusive spirit, and admitted, as linguistic authorities, only writers of the fourteenth century, belonging to Tuscany, it contributed greatly to the progress of the Italian tongue.

Every university of Italy boasted in the sixteenth century of some celebrated rhetoricians, all of whom, however, were overshadowed by Vettori (1499-1585), distinguished for the editions of the Greek and Latin classics published under his superintendence, and for his commentaries on the rhetorical books of Aristotle. B. Cavalcanti (1503-1562) was also celebrated in this department, and his "Rhetoric" is the best work of the age on that subject.

The oratory of this period is very imperfect. Orations were written in the style of Boccaccio, which, however suitable for the narration of merry tales, is entirely unfit for oratorical compositions. Among those who most distinguished themselves in this department are Della Casa (1503-1556), whose harangues against the Emperor Charles V. are full of eloquence; Speroni (1500-1588), whose style is more perfect than that of any other writer of the sixteenth century; and Lollio (d. 1568), whose orations are the most polished. At that time, in the forum of Venice, eloquent orators pleaded the causes of the citizens, and at the close of the preceding century, Savonarola (1452-1498), a preacher of Florence, thundered against the abuses of the Roman church, and suffered death in consequence. Among the models of letter-writing, Caro takes the first place. His familiar letters are written with that graceful elegance which becomes this kind of composition. The letters of Tasso are full of eloquence and philosophy, and are written in the most select Italian.

11. SCIENCE, PHILOSOPHY, AND POLITICS.—The sciences, during this period, went hand in hand with poetry and history. Libraries and other aids to learning were multiplied, and academies were organized with other objects than those of enjoyment of mere poetical triumphs or dramatic amusements. The Academy del Cimento was founded at Florence in 1657 by Leopold de' Medici, for promoting the study of the natural sciences, and similar institutions were established in Rome, Bologna, and Naples, and other cities of Italy, besides the Royal Academy of London (1660), and the Academy of Sciences in Paris (1666). From the period of the first institution of universities, that of Bologna had maintained its preëminence. Padua, Ferrara, Pavia, Turin, Florence, Siena, Pisa, and Rome were also seats of learning. The men who directed the scientific studies of their country and of Europe were almost universally attached as professors to these institutions. Indeed, at this period, through the genius of Galileo and his school, European science first dawned in Italy. Galileo (1564-1641) was a native of Pisa, and professor of mathematics in the university of that city. Being obliged to leave it on account of scientific opinions, at that time at variance with universally received principles, he removed to the university of Padua, where for eighteen years he enjoyed the high consideration of his countrymen. He returned to Pisa, and at the age of seventy was summoned to Rome by the Inquisition, and required to renounce his doctrines relative to the Copernican system, of which he was a zealous defender, and his life was spared only on condition of his abjuring his opinions. It is said that on rising from his knees, after making the abjuration of his belief that the earth moved round the sun, he stamped his foot on the floor and said, "It does move, though." To Galileo science is indebted for the discovery of the laws of weight, the scientific construction of the system of Copernicus, the pendulum, the improvement of many scientific instruments, the invention of the hydrostatic balance, the thermometer, proportional compasses, and, above all, the telescope. He discovered the satellites of Jupiter, the phases of Venus, the mountains of the moon, the spots and the rotation of the sun. Science, which had consisted for centuries only of scholastic subtleties and barren dialectics, he established on an experimental basis. In his works he unites delicacy and purity with vivacity of style.

Among the scholars of Galileo, who most efficaciously contributed to the progress of science, may be mentioned Torricelli (1608-1647), the inventor of the barometer, an elegant and profound writer; Borelli (1608-1679), the founder of animal mechanics, or the science of the movements of animals, distinguished for his works on astronomy, mathematics, anatomy, and natural philosophy; Cassini (1625-1712), a celebrated astronomer, to whom France is indebted for its meridian; Cavalieri (1598-1648), distinguished for his works on geometry, which paved the way to the discovery of the infinitesimal calculus.

In the scientific department of the earlier part of this period may also be mentioned Tartaglia (d. 1657) and Cardano (1501-1576), celebrated for their researches on algebra and geometry; Vignola (1507-1573) and Palladio (1518-1580), whose works on architecture are still held in high estimation, as well as the work of Marchi (fl. 1550) on military construction. Later, Redi (1626-1697) distinguished himself as a natural philosopher, a physician and elegant writer, both in prose and verse, and Malpighi (1628-1694) and Bellini (1643-1704) were anatomists of high repute. Scamozzi (1550-1616) emulated the glory formerly won by Palladio in architecture, and Montecuccoli (1608-1681), a great general of the age, ably illustrated the art of strategy.

The sixteenth century abounds in philosophers who, abandoning the doctrines of Plato, which had been in great favor in the fifteenth, adopted those of Aristotle. Some, however, dared to throw off the yoke of philosophical authority, and to walk in new paths of speculation. Patrizi (1529-1597) was one of the first who undertook to examine for himself the phenomena of nature, and to attack the authority of Aristotle. Telesio (1509-1588), a friend of Patrizi, joined him in the work of overthrowing the Peripatetic idols; but neither of them dared to renounce entirely the authority of antiquity. The glory of having claimed absolute freedom in philosophical speculation belongs to Cardano, already mentioned, to Campanella (1568-1639), who for the boldness of his opinions was put to the torture and spent thirty years in prison, and to Giordano Bruno (1550- 1600), a sublime thinker and a bold champion of freedom, who was burned at the stake.

Among the moral philosophers of this age may be mentioned Speroni, whose writings are distinguished by harmony, freedom, and eloquence of style; Tasso, whose dialogues unite loftiness of thought with elegance of style; Castiglione (1468-1529), whose "Cortigiano" is in equal estimation as a manual of elegance of manners and as a model of pure Italian; and Della Casa, whose "Galateo" is a complete system of politeness, couched in elegant language, and a work to which Lord Chesterfield was much indebted.

Political science had its greatest representative in Machiavelli, who wrote on it with that profound knowledge of the human heart which he had acquired in public life, and with the habit of unweaving, in all its intricacies, the political perfidy which then prevailed in Italy. The "Prince" is the best known of his political works, and from the infamous principles which he has here developed, though probably with good intentions, his name is allied with everything false and perfidious in politics. The object of the treatise is to show how a new prince may establish and consolidate his power, and how the Medici might not only confirm their authority in Florence, but extend it over the whole of the Peninsula. At the time that Machiavelli wrote, Italy had been for centuries a theatre where might was the only right. He was not a man given to illusive fancies, and throughout a long political career nothing had been permitted to escape his keen and penetrating eye. In all the affairs in which he had taken part he had seen that success was the only thing studied, and therefore to succeed in an enterprise, by whatever means, had become the fundamental idea of his political theory. His Prince reduced to a science the art, long before known and practiced by kings and tyrants, of attaining absolute power by deception and cruelty, and of maintaining it afterwards by the dissimulation of leniency and virtue. It does not appear that any exception was at first taken to the doctrines which have since called forth such severe reprehension, and from the moment of its appearance the Prince became a favorite at every court. But soon after the death of Machiavelli a violent outcry was raised against him, and although it was first heard with amazement, it soon became general, The Prince was laid under the ban of several successive popes, and the name of Machiavelli passed into a proverb of infamy. His bones lay undistinguished for nearly two centuries, when a monument was erected to his memory in the church of Santa Croce, through the influence of an English nobleman.

12. PERIOD OF DECADENCE.—The sixteenth century reaped the fruits that had been sown in the fifteenth, but it scattered no seeds for a harvest in the seventeenth, which was therefore doomed to general sterility. In the reigns of Charles V. and Philip II. the chains of civil and religious despotism were forged which subdued the intellect and arrested the genius of the people. The Spanish viceroys ruled with an iron hand over Milan, Naples, Sicily, and Sardinia. Poverty and superstition wasted and darkened the minds of the people, and indolence and love of pleasure introduced almost universal degeneracy. But the Spanish yoke, which weighed so heavily at both extremities of the Peninsula, did not extend to the republic of Venice, or to the duchy of Tuscany; and the heroic character of the princes of Savoy alone would have served to throw a lustre over this otherwise darkened period. In literature, too, there were a few who resisted the torrent of bad taste, amidst many who opened the way for a crowd of followers in the false route, and gave to the age that character of extravagance for which it is so peculiarly distinguished.

The literary works of the seventeenth century may be divided into three classes, the first of which, under the guidance of Marini, attained the lowest degree of corruption, and remain in the annals of literature as monuments of bombastic style and bad taste. The second embraces those writers who were aware of the faults of the school to which they belonged, and who, aiming to bring about a reform in literature, while they endeavored to follow a better style, partook more or less of the character of the age. To this class may be referred Chiabrera already named, and more particularly Filicaja and other poets of the same school. The third class is composed of a few writers who preserved themselves faithful to the principles of true taste, and among them are Menzini, Salvator Rosa, Redi, and more particularly Tassoni.

13. EPIC AND LYRIC POETRY.—Marini (1569-1625), the celebrated innovator on classic Italian taste, is considered as the first who seduced the poets of the seventeenth century into a labored and affected style. He was born at Naples and educated for the legal profession, for which he had little taste, and on publishing a volume of poems, his indignant father turned him out of doors. But his popular qualities never left him without friends. He was invited to the Court of France, obtained the favor of Mary de' Medici, and the situation of gentleman to the king. He became exceedingly popular among the French nobility, many of whom learned Italian for the sole purpose of reading his works. It was here that he published the most celebrated of his poems, entitled "Adonis." He afterwards purchased a beautiful villa near Naples, to which he retired, and where he soon after died. The Adonis of Marini is a mixture of the epic and the romantic style, the subject being taken from the well-known story of Venus and Adonis. He renounced all keeping and probability, both in his incidents and descriptions; if he could present a series of enchanted pictures, he was little solicitous as to the manner of their arrangement. But the work has much beauty and imagination, and is often animated by the true spirit of poetry. Its principal faults are that it is sadly wire-drawn, and abounds in puns, endless antitheses, and inventions for surprising or bewildering the reader; graces which were greatly admired by the contemporaries of the poet. Marini was a voluminous writer, and was not only extolled in his own country above its classic authors, and in France, but the Spaniards held him in the highest esteem, and imitated and even surpassed him in his own eccentric career. He had also innumerable imitators in Italy, many of whom attained a high reputation during their lives, and afterwards sank into complete oblivion.

Filicaja (1642-1709) stands at the head of the lyric poets of the seventeenth century. His inspiration seems first to have been awakened when Vienna was besieged by the Turks in 1683, and gallantly defended by the Christian powers. His verses on this occasion awoke the most enthusiastic admiration, and called forth the eulogies of princes and poets. The admiration which he excited in his day is scarcely to be wondered at; for, though this judgment has not been ratified by posterity, Filicaja has at least the merit of having raised the poetry of Italy from the abject service of mere amorous imbecility to the noble office of embodying the more manly and virtuous sentiments; and though his style is infected with the bombastic spirit of the age, it is even in this respect singularly moderate, compared with that of his contemporaries.

14. MOCK-HEROIC POETRY, THE DRAMA, AND SATIRE.—The full maturity of the style of mock-heroic poetry is due to Tassoni (1565-1635). He first attracted public notice by disputing the authority of Aristotle, and the poetical merits of Petrarch. In 1622 he published his "Rape of the Bucket," a burlesque poem on the petty wars which were so common between the towns of Italy in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. The heroes of Modena had, in 1325, discomfited the Bolognese, and pursued them to the very heart of their city, whence they carried off, as a trophy of their victory, the bucket belonging to the public well. The expedition undertaken by the Bolognese for its recovery forms the basis of the twelve mock-heroic cantos of Tassoni. To understand this poem requires a knowledge of the vulgarisms and idioms which are frequently introduced in it.

About the same period, Bracciolini (1566-1645) produced another comic- heroic poem, entitled the "Ridicule of the Gods," in which the ancient deities are introduced as mingling with the peasants, and declaiming in the low, vulgar dialect, and making themselves most agreeably ridiculous. Somewhat later appeared one more example of the same species of epic, "The Malmantile," by Lippi (1606-1664). This poem is considered a pure model of the dialect of the Florentines, which is so graceful and harmonious even in its homeliness.

The seventeenth century was remarkable for the prodigious number of its dramatic authors, but few of them equaled and none excelled those of the preceding age. The opera, or melodrama, which had arisen out of the pastoral, seemed to monopolize whatever talent was at the disposal of the stage, and branches formerly cultivated sank below mediocrity. Amid the crowd of theatrical corrupters, the name of Andreini (1564-1652) deserves peculiar mention, not from any claim to exemption from the general censure, but because his comedy of "Adam" is believed to have been the foundation of Milton's "Paradise Lost." Andreini was but one of the common throng of dramatic writers, and it has been fiercely contended by some, that it is impossible that the idea of so sublime a poem should have been taken from so ordinary a composition as his Adam. His piece was represented at Milan as early as 1613, and so has at least a claim of priority,

Menzini (1646-1708) and Salvator Rosa (1615-1675) were the representatives of the satire of this century; the former distinguished for the purity of his language and the harmony of his verse; the latter for his vivacity and sprightliness.

15. HISTORY AND EPISTOLARY WRITINGS.—The number of historical works in this century is much greater than in that of the preceding, but they are generally far from possessing the same merit or commanding the same interest. The historians seem to have lost all feeling of national dignity; they do not venture to unveil the causes of public events, or to indicate their results. Even those that dared treat of Italy or its provinces, confined themselves to the reigning dynasties, and overlooking the causes which most deeply affected the happiness of the people, described only the festivities, battles, and triumphs of their princes. A large number of historians chose foreign subjects; the history of France was remarkable for the number of Italians who endeavored to relate it in this age. The work of Davila (1576-1630) on "The Civil Wars of France," however, throws all the rest into the shade. What gives to it peculiar value is the carefulness with which the materials were collected, in connection with the opportunities its author enjoyed for gaining information. This history is considered as superior to that of Guicciardini in its matter, as the latter excels it in style. It is wanting in that elegance which characterized the Florentine historians of the sixteenth century. Bentivoglio (1579-1644) was an eminent rival of Davila; he wrote the history of the civil wars of Flanders; a work remarkable for the elegance and correctness of its style. Above all stand the works of Sarpi, who lived between 1552 and 1623, and who defended with great courage the authority of the Senate of Venice against the power of the Popes, notwithstanding their excommunication and continued persecution. His history of the Council of Trent contains a curious account of the intrigues of the Court of Rome at the period of the Reformation.

It was chiefly in the more showy departments of literature that the extravagance of the Marinists was most conspicuous, and the decay of native genius was most apparent. But this genius had turned into other paths, which it pursued with a steady, though less brilliant course. Of all branches of prose composition, the epistolary was the most carefully cultivated. The talent for letter-writing was often the means of considerable emolument, as all the petty princes of Italy and the cardinals of Rome were ambitious of having secretaries who would give them éclat in their correspondence, and these situations, which were steps to higher preferment, were eagerly sought; hence the prodigious number of collections of letters which have at all times inundated Italy—specimens by which those who believed themselves elegant writers endeavored to make known their talent. The letters of Bentivoglio have obtained European celebrity. They are distinguished for elegance of style as well as for the interest of those historical recollections which they transmit; they are considered superior to his history. But of all the letters of this or of the preceding age, none are more rich, more varied, or more pleasing than those of Redi, who threw into this form his discoveries in natural history. The driest subjects, even those of language and grammar, are here treated in an interesting and agreeable manner.

PERIOD THIRD.

THE SECOND REVIVAL OF ITALIAN LITERATURE, AND ITS PRESENT CONDITION (1675-1885).

1. HISTORICAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE THIRD PERIOD.—At the close of the seventeenth century, a new dawn arose in the history of Italian letters, and the general corruption which had extended to every branch of literature and paralyzed the Italian mind began to be arrested by the appearance of writers of better taste; the affectations of the Marinists and of the so-called Arcadian poets were banished from literature; science was elevated and its dominion extended, the melodrama, comedy, and tragedy recreated, and a new spirit infused into every branch of composition. Amidst the clash of arms and the vicissitudes of long and bloody wars, Italy began to awake from her lethargy to the aspiration for greater and better things, and her intellectual condition soon underwent important changes and improvements. In the eighteenth century, in Naples, Vico transformed history into a new science. Filangeri contended with Montesquieu for the palm of legislative philosophy; and new light was thrown on criminal science by Mario Pagano. In Rome, letters and science flourished under the patronage of Benedict XIV., Clement XIV., and Pius VI., under whose auspices Quirico Visconti undertook his "Pio Clementine Museum" and his "Greek and Roman Iconography," the two greatest archaeological works of all ages. Padua was immortalized by the works of Cesarotti, Belzoni, and Stratico; Venice by Goldoni; Verona by Maffei, the critic and the antiquarian, as well as the first reformer of Italian tragedy. Tuscany took the lead of the intellectual movement of the country under Leopold and his successor Ferdinand, when Florence, Pisa, and Siena again became seats of learning and of poetry and the arts. Maria Theresa and Joseph II. fostered the intellectual progress of Lombardy; Spallanzani published his researches on natural philosophy; Volta discovered the pile which bears his name; a new era in poetry was created by Parinl; another in criminal jurisprudence by Beccaria; history was reconstructed by Muratori; mathematics promoted by Lagrange, and astronomy by Oriani; and Alfieri restored Italian letters to their primitive splendor.

But at the close of the eighteenth century and the beginning of the nineteenth, Italy became the theatre of political and military revolutions, whose influence could not fail to arrest the development of the literature of the country. The galleries, museums, and libraries of Rome, Florence, and other cities suffered from the military occupation, and many of their treasures, manuscripts, and masterpieces of art were carried to Paris by command of Napoleon. The entire peninsula was subject to French influence, which, though beneficial to its material progress, could not fail to be detrimental to national literature. All new works were composed in French, and indifferent or bad translations from the French were widely circulated; the French language was substituted for the Italian, and the national literature seemed about to disappear. But Italian genius was not wholly extinguished; a few writers powerfully opposed this new tendency, and preserved in its purity the language of Dante and Petrarch. Gradually the national spirit revived, and literature was again moulded in accordance with the national character. Notwithstanding the political calamities of which, for some time after the treaty of Vienna in 1815, Italy was continually the victim, the literature of the country awakened and fostered a sentiment of nationality, and Italian independence is at this present moment already achieved.

2. THE MELODRAMA.—The first result of the revival of letters at the close of the seventeenth century was the reform of the theatre. The melodrama, or Italian opera, arose out of the pastoral drama, which it superseded. The astonishing progress of musical science succeeded that of poetry and sculpture, which fell into decline with the decay of literature. Music, rising into excellence and importance at a time when poetry was on the decline, acquired such superiority that verse, instead of being its mistress, became its handmaid. The first occasion of this inversion was in the year 1594, when Rinuccini, a Florentine poet, associated himself with three musicians to compose a mythological drama. This and several other pieces by the same author met with a brilliant reception. Poetry, written only in order to be sung, thus assumed a different character; Rinuiccini abandoned the form of the canzone which had hitherto been used in the lyrical part of the drama, and adopted the Pindaric ode. Many poets followed in the same path; more action was given to the dramatic parts, and greater variety to the music, in which the airs were agreeably blended with the recitative duets; other harmonized pieces were also added, and after the lapse of a century Apostolo Zeno (1669-1750) still further improved the melodrama. But it was the spirit of Metastasio that breathed a soul of fire into this ingenious and happy form created by others.

Metastasio (1698-1782) gave early indications of genius, and when only ten years of age used to collect an audience in his father's shop, by his talent for improvisation. He thus attracted the notice of Gravina, a celebrated patron of letters, who adopted him as his son, changed his somewhat ignoble name of Trepassi to Metastasio, and had him educated in every branch necessary for a literary career. He still continued to improvise verses on any given subject for the amusement of company. His youth, his harmonious voice, and prepossessing appearance, added greatly to the charm of his talent. It was one generally cultivated in Italy at this time, and men of mature years often presented themselves as rivals of the hoy. This occupation becoming injurious to the youth, Gravina forbade him to compose extempore verses any more, and this rule, imposed on him at sixteen, he never afterwards infringed. When Metastasio was in his twentieth year Gravina died, leaving to him his fortune, most of which he squandered in two years. He afterwards went to Naples, where, under a severe master, he devoted himself to the closest study and for two years resisted every solicitation to compose verses. At length, under promise of secrecy, he wrote a drama. All Naples resounded with its praise, and the author was soon discovered. Metastasio from this time followed the career for which nature seemed to have formed him, and devoted himself to the opera, which he considered to be the natural drama of Italy. An invitation to become the court poet of Vienna made his future life both stable and prosperous. On the death of Charles VI., in 1740, several other European sovereigns made advantageous overtures to the poet, but as Maria Theresa was disposed to retain him, he would not leave her in her adverse circumstances. The remainder of his life he passed in Germany, and his latter years were as monotonous as they were prosperous.

Metastasio seized with a daring hand the true spirit of the melodrama, and scorning to confine himself to unity of place, opened a wide field for the display of theatrical variety, on which the charm of the opera so much depends. The language in which he clothed the favorite passion of his drama exhibits all that is delicate and yet ardent, and he develops the most elevated sentiments of loyalty, patriotism, and filial love. The flow of his verse in the recitative is the most pure and harmonious known in any language, and the strophes at the close of each scene are scarcely surpassed by the first masters in lyric poetry. Metastasio is one of the most pleasing, at the same time one of the least difficult of the Italian poets, and the tyro in the study of Italian classics may begin with his works, and at once enjoy the pleasures of poetic harmony at their highest source.

3. COMEDY.—The revolution, so frequently attempted in Italian comedy by men whose genius was unequal to the task, was reserved for Goldoni (1707- 1772) to accomplish. His life, written by himself, presents a picture of Italian manners in their gayest colors. He was a native of Venice, and from his early youth was constantly surrounded by theatrical people. At eight years of age he composed a comedy, and at fourteen he ran away from school with a company of strolling players. He afterwards prepared for the medical, then for the legal profession, and finally, at the age of twenty- seven, he was installed poet to a company of players. He now attempted to introduce the reforms that he had long meditated; he attained a purer style, and became a censor of the manners and a satirist of the follies of his country. His dialogue is extremely animated, earnest, and full of meaning; with a thorough knowledge of national manners, he possessed the rare faculty of representing them in the most life-like manner on the stage. The language used by the inferior characters of his comedies is the Venetian dialect.

In his latter days Goldoni was rivaled by Carlo Gozzi (1722-1806), who parodied his pieces, and, it is thought, was the cause of his retirement, in the decline of life, to Paris. Gozzi introduced a new style of comedy, by reviving the familiar fictions of childhood; he selected and dramatized the most brilliant fairy tales, such as "Blue Beard," "The King of the Genii," etc., and gave them to the public with magnificent decorations and surprising machinery. If his comedies display little resemblance to nature, they at least preserve the kind of probability which is looked for in a fairy tale. Many years elapsed after Goldoni and Gozzi disappeared from the arena before there was any successor to rival their compositions.

Among those who contributed to the perfection of Italian comedy may be mentioned Albergati (fl. 1774), Gherardo de' Rossi (1754-1827), and above all, Nota (d. 1847), who is preeminent among the new race of comic authors; although somewhat cold and didactic, he at least fulfils the important office of holding the mirror up to nature. He exhibits a faithful picture of Italian society, and applies the scourge of satire to its most prevalent faults and follies.

4. TRAGEDY.—The reform of Italian tragedy was early attempted by Martelli (d. 1727) and by Scipione Maffei (1675-1755). But Martelli was only a tame imitator of French models, while Maffei, possessing real talent and feeling, deserved the extended reputation he acquired. His "Merope" is considered as the last and the best specimen of the elder school of Italian tragedy.

The honor of raising tragedy to its highest standard was reserved for Alfieri (1749-1803), whose remarkable personal character exercised a powerful influence over his works. He was possessed of an impetuosity which continually urged him towards some indefinite object, a craving for something more free in politics, more elevated in character, more ardent in love, and more perfect in friendship; of desires for a better state of things, which drove him from one extremity of Europe to another, but without discovering it in the realities of this everyday world. Finally, he turned to the contemplation of a new universe in his own poetical creations, and calmed his agitations by the production of those master- pieces which have secured his immortality. His aim in life, in the pursuit of which he never deviated, was that of founding a new and classic school of tragedy. He proposed to himself the severe simplicity of the Greeks with respect to the plot, while he rejected the pomp of poetry which compensates for interest among the classic writers of antiquity. Energy and conciseness are the distinguishing features of his style; and this, in his earlier dramas, is carried to the extreme. He brings the whole action into one focus; the passion he would exhibit is introduced into the first verse and kept in view to the last. No event, no character, no conversation unconnected with the advancement of the plot is permitted to appear; all confidants and secondary personages are, therefore, excluded, and there seldom appear more than four interlocutors. These tragedies breathe the spirit of patriotism and freedom, and for this, even independently of their intrinsic merit, Alfieri is considered as the reviver of the national character in modern times, as Dante was in the fourteenth century. "Saul" is regarded as his masterpiece; it represents a noble character suffering under those weaknesses which sometimes accompany great virtues, and are governed by the fatality, not of destiny, but of human nature.

Among the earliest and most distinguished of those who followed in the path of Alfieri was Monti (1754-1828). Though endowed with a sublime imagination and exquisite taste, his character was weak and vain, and he, in turn, celebrated every party as it became the successful one. Educated in the school of Dante, he introduced into Italian poetry those bold and severe beauties which adorned its infancy. His "Aristodemus" is one of the most affecting tragedies in Italian literature. The story is founded on the narrative of Pausanias. It is simple in its construction, and its interest is confined almost entirely to the principal personage. In the loftiness of the characters of his tragedies, and the energy of sentiment and simplicity of action which characterize them, we recognize the school of Alfieri, while in harmony and elegance of style and poetical language, Monti is superior.

Another follower of the school of Alfieri is Ugo Foscolo (1778-1827), one of the greatest writers of this age, in whom inspiration was derived from a lofty patriotism. At the time of the French revolution he joined the Italian army, with the object of restoring independence to his country. Disappointed in this hope, he left Italy for England, where he distinguished himself by his writings. The best of his tragedies, "Ricciarda," is founded on events supposed to have occurred in the Middle Ages. While some of its scenes and situations are forced and unnatural, some of the acts are wrought with consummate skill and effect, and the conception of the characters is tragic and original. Foscolo adopts in his tragedies a concise and pregnant style, and displays great mastery over his native language. Marenco (d. 1846) is distinguished for the noble and moral ideas, lofty images, and affections of his tragedies; but he lacks unity of design and vigor of style. Silvio Pellico (1789-1854) was born in Piedmont. As a writer he is best known as the author of "My Prisons," a narrative full of simplicity and resignation, in which he relates his sufferings during ten years in the fortress of Spielberg. His tragedies are good specimens of modern art; they abound in fine thoughts and tender affections, but they lack that liveliness of dialogue and rapidity of action which give reality to the situations, and that knowledge of the human heart and unity and grandeur of conception which are the characteristics of true genius.

Manzoni (1785-1873) and Nicolini (1782-1861) are the last of the modern representatives of the tragic drama of Italy. The tragedies of Manzoni, and especially his "Conte di Carmagnola," and "Adelchi," abound in exquisite beauties. His style is simple and noble, his verse easy and harmonious, and his object elevated. The merits of these tragedies, however, belong rather to parts, and while the reading of them is always interesting, on the stage they fail to awaken the interest of the audience. After Manzoni, Nicolini was the most popular literary man of Italy of his time. Lofty ideas, generous passions, splendor and harmony of poetry, purity of language, variety of characters, and warmth of patriotism, constitute the merit of his tragedies; while his faults consist in a style somewhat too exuberant and lyrical, in ideas sometimes too vague, and characters often too ideal.

5. LYRIC, EPIC, AND DIDACTIC POETRY.—In the latter part of the eighteenth century, a class of poets who called themselves "The Arcadians" attempted to overthrow the artificial and bombastic school of Marini; but their frivolous and insipid productions had little effect on the literature. The first poets who gave a new impulse to letters were Parini and Monti. Parini (1729-1799) was a man of great genius, integrity, and taste; he contributed more than any other writer of his age to the progress of literature and the arts. His lyrical poems abound in noble thoughts, and breathe a pure patriotism and high morality. His style is forcible, chaste, and harmonious. The poems of Monti have much of the fire and elevation of Pindar. Whatever object employs his thoughts, his eyes immediately behold; and, as it stands before him, a flexible and harmonious language is ever at his command to paint it in the brightest colors. His "Basvilliana" is the most celebrated of his lyric poems, and, beyond every other, is remarkable for majesty, nobleness of expression, and richness of coloring.

The poetical writings of Pindemonte (1753-1828) are stamped with the melancholy of his character. Their subjects are taken from contemporary events, and his inspiration is drawn from nature and rural life. His "Sepulchres" breathes the sweetest and most pathetic tenderness, and the brightest hopes of immorality. The poems of Foscolo have the grace and elegance of the Greek poets; but in his "Sepulchres" the gloom of his melancholy imagination throws a funereal light over the nothingness of all things, and the silence of death is unbroken by any voice of hope in a future life. Torti (1774-1852), a pupil of Parini, rivaled his master in the simplicity of style and purity of his images; while Leopardi (1798- 1837) impressed upon his lyric poems the peculiarities of his own character. A sublime poet and a profound scholar, his muse was inspired by a deep sorrow, and his poems pour out a melancholy that is terrible and grand, the most agonizing cry in modern literature uttered with a solemn quietness that elevates and terrifies. The poetry of despair has never had a more powerful voice than his. He is not only the first poet since Dante, but perhaps the most perfect prose writer. Berchet (1790-1851) is considered as the Italian Béranger, and his songs glow with patriotic fire. Those of Silvio Pellico, always sweet and truthful, bear the stamp of a calm resignation, hope, and piety. The list of modern lyric poets closes with Manzoni, whose hymns are models of this style of poetry.

In the epic department the third period does not afford any poems of a high order. But the translation of the Iliad by Monti, that of the Odyssey by Pindemonte, for their purity of language and beauty of style, may be considered as epic additions to Italian literature. "The Longobards of the First Crusade," written by Grossi (1791-1853), excels in beauty and splendor of poetry all the epic poems of this age, though it lacks unity of design and comprehensiveness of thought.

Among the didactic poems may be mentioned the "Invitation of Lesbia," by Mascheroni (1750-1800), a distinguished poet as well as a celebrated mathematician. This poem, which describes the beautiful productions of nature in the Museum of Pavia, is considered a masterpiece of didactic poetry. The "Riseide," or cultivation of rice, by Spolverini (1695-1762), and the "Silkworm," by Betti (1732-1788), are characterized by poetical beauties. The poem on the "Immortality of the Soul," by Filorentino (1742- 1815), though defective in style, is distinguished by its elevation of ideas and sentiments. "The Cultivation of Mountains," by Lorenzi (1732- 1822), is rich in beautiful images and thoughts. "The Cultivation of Olive Trees," by Arici (1782-1836), his "Corals," and other poems, especially in their descriptions, are graceful and attractive. "The Seasons" of Barbieri (1774-1852), though bearing marks of imitation from Pope, is written in a pure and elegant style.

6. HEROIC-COMIC POETRY, SATIRE, AND FABLE.—The period of heroic-comic poetry closes in the eighteenth century. The "Ricciardetto" of Fortiguerri (1674-1735) is the last of the poems of chivalry, and with it terminated the long series of romances founded on the adventures of Charlemagne and his paladins. The "Cicero" of Passeroni (1713-1803) is a rambling composition in a style similar to Sterne's "Tristram Shandy," which, it appears, was suggested by this work.

Satiric poetry, which had flourished in the preceding period, was enriched by new productions in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. G. Gozzi (1713-1789) attacked in his satires the vices and prejudices of his fellow-citizens, in a forcible and elegant style; and Parini, the great satirist of the eighteenth century, founded a school of satire, which proved most beneficial to the country. His poem, "The Day," is distinguished by fine irony and by the severity with which he attacks the effeminate habits of his age. He lashes the affectations and vices of the Milanese aristocracy with a sarcasm worthy of Juvenal. The satires of D'Elei, Guadagnali, and others are characterized by wit and beauty of versification. Those of Leopardi are bitter and contemptuous, while Giusti (1809-1850), the political satirist of his age, scourged the petty tyrants of his country with biting severity and pungent wit; the circulation of his satires throughout Italy, in defiance of its despotic governments, greatly contributed to the revolution of 1848.

In the department of fable may be mentioned Roberti (1719-1786), Passeroni, Pignotti (1739-1812), and Clasio (1754-1825), distinguished for invention, purity, and simplicity of style.

7. ROMANCES.—Though the tales of Boccaccio and the story tellers of the sixteenth century paved the way to the romances of the present time, it was only at a late period that the Italians gave their attention to this kind of composition. In the eighteenth century we find only two specimens of romance, "The Congress of Citera," by Algarotti, of which Voltaire said that it was written with a feather drawn from the wings of love; and the "Roman Nights," by Alexander Verri (1741-1816). In his romance he introduces the shades of celebrated Romans, particularly of Cicero, and an ingenious comparison of ancient and modern institutions is made. The style is picturesque and poetical, though somewhat florid.

This kind of composition has found more favor in the nineteenth century. First among the writers of this age is Manzoni, whose "Betrothed" is a model of romantic literature. The variety, originality, and truthfulness of the characters, the perfect knowledge of the human heart it displays, the simplicity and vivacity of its style, form the principal merits of this work. The "Marco Visconti" of Grossi is distinguished for its pathos and for the purity and elegance of its style.

The "Ettore Fieramosca" of Massimo d'Azeglio is distinguished from the works already spoken of by its martial and national spirit. His "Nicolò de Lapi," though full of beauties, partakes in some degree of the faults common to the French school. After these, the "Margherita Pusterla" of Cantil, the "Luisa Strozzi" of Rosini, the "Lamberto Malatesta" of Rovani, the "Angiola Maria" of Carcano, are the best historical romances of Italian literature. Both in an artistic and moral point of view, they far excel those of Guerrazzi, which represent the French school of George Sand in Italy, and whose "Battle of Benevento," "Isabella Orsini," "Siege of Florence," and "Beatrice Cenci," while they are written in pure language and abound in minor beauties, are exaggerated in their characters, bombastic and declamatory in style, and overloaded in description.

The "Last Letters of Jacopo Ortis," by Foscolo, belongs to that kind of romance which is called sentimental. Overcome by the calamities of his country, with his soul full of fiery passion and sad disappointment, Foscolo wrote this romance, the protest of his heart against evils which he could not heal.

8. HISTORY.—Among the most prominent of the numerous historians of this period, a few only can be named. Muratori (1672-1750), for his vast erudition and profound criticism, has no rivals. He made the most accurate and extensive researches and discoveries relating to the history of Italy from the fifth to the sixteenth century, which he published in twenty- seven folio volumes; the most valuable collection of historical documents which ever appeared in Italy. He wrote, also, a work on "Italian Antiquities," illustrating the history of the Middle Ages through ancient monuments, and the "Annals of Italy," a history of the country from the beginning of the Christian era to his own age. Though its style is somewhat defective, the richness and abundance of its erudition, its clearness, and arrangement, impart to this work great value and interest.

Maffei, already spoken of as the first reformer of Italian tragedy, surpassed Muratori in the purity of his style, and was only second to him in the extent and variety of his erudition. He wrote several works on the antiquities and monuments of Italy.

Bianchini (1662-1729), a celebrated architect and scholar, wrote a "Universal History," which, though not complete, is characterized as a work of great genius. It is founded exclusively on the interpretations of ancient monuments in marble and metal.

Vico (1670-1744), the founder of the philosophy of history, embraced with his comprehensive mind the history of all nations, and from the darkness of centuries he created the science of humanity, which he called "Scienza Nuova." Vico does not propose to illustrate any special historical epoch, but follows the general movement of mankind in the most remote and obscure times, and establishes the rules which must guide us in interpreting ancient historians. By gathering from different epochs, remote from each other, the songs, symbols, monuments, laws, etymologies, and religious and philosophical doctrines,—in a word, the infinite elements which form the life of mankind,—he establishes the unity of human history. The "Scienza Nuova" is one of the great monuments of human genius, and it has inspired many works on the philosophy of history, especially among the Germans, such as those of Hegel, Niebuhr, and others.

Giannone (1676-1748) is the author of a "Civil History of the Kingdom of Naples," a work full of juridical science as well as of historical interest. Having attacked with much violence the encroachments of the Church of Rome on the rights of the state, he became the victim of a persecution which ended in his death in the fortress of Turin. Giannone, in his history, gave the first example in modern times of that intrepidity and courage which belong to the true historian.

Botta (1766-1837) is among the first historians of the present age. He was a physician and a scholar, and devoted to the freedom of his country. He filled important political offices in Piedmont, under the administration of the French government. In 1809 he published, in Paris, his "History of the American Revolution," a work held in high estimation both in this country and in Italy. In the political changes which followed the fall of Napoleon, Botta suffered many pecuniary trials, and was even obliged to sell, by weight, to a druggist, the entire edition of his history, in order to pay for medicines for his sick wife. Meanwhile, he wrote a history of Italy, from 1789 to 1814, which was received with great enthusiasm through Italy, and for which the Academy della Crusca, in 1830, granted to him a pecuniary reward. This was followed by the "History of Italy," in continuation of Guicciardini, from the fall of the Florentine Republic to 1789, a gigantic work, with which he closed his historical career. The histories of Botta are distinguished by clearness of narrative, vividness and beauty of description, by the prominence he gives to the moral aspect of events and characters, and by purity, richness, and variety of style.

Colletta (1775-1831) was born in Naples; under the government of Murat he rose to the rank of general, and fell with his patron. His "History of the Kingdom of Naples," from 1734 to 1825, is modeled after the annals of Tacitus. The style is simple, clear, and concise, the subject is treated without digressions or episodes; it is conceived in a partial spirit, and is a eulogium of the administration of Joachim; but no writer can rival Colletta in his descriptions of strategic movements, of sieges and battles.

Balbo (1789-1853) was born in Turin; during the administration of Napoleon he filled many important political offices, and afterwards entered upon a military career. Devoted to the freedom of his country, he strove to promote the progress of Italian independence. In 1847 he published the "Hopes of Italy," the first political work that had appeared in the peninsula since the restoration of 1814; it was the spark which kindled the movements of 1848. In the events of that and of the succeeding year, he ranked among the most prominent leaders of the national party. His historical works are a "Life of Dante," considered the best on the subject; "Historical Contemplations," in which he developed the history of mankind from a philosophical point of view; and "The Compendium of the History of Italy," which embraces in a synthetic form all the history of the country from the earliest times to 1814. His style is pure, clear, and sometimes eloquent, though often concise and abrupt.

Cantù, a living historian, has written a universal history, in which he attempts the philosophical style. Though vivid in his narratives, descriptions, and details, he is often incorrect in Ms statements, and rash in his judgments; his work, though professing liberal views, is essentially conservative in its tendency. The same faults may be discovered in his more recent "History of the Italians."

Tiraboschi (1731-1794) is the great historian of Italian literature; his work is biographical and critical, and is the most extensive literary history of Italy. His style is simple and elegant, and his criticism profound; but he gives greater prominence to the biographies of writers than to the consideration of their works. This history was continued by Corniani (1742-1813), and afterwards by Ugoni (1784-1855).

9. AESTHETICS, CRITICISM, PHILOLOGY, AND PHILOSOPHY.—Italian literature is comparatively deficient in aesthetics, the science of the beautiful. The treatise of Gioberti on the "Beautiful," the last work which has appeared on this subject, is distinguished for its profound doctrines and brilliant style. Philology and criticism first began to flourish at the close of the seventeenth century, and are well represented at the present time. The revival of letters was greatly promoted by the criticism of Gravina (1664-1718), one of the most celebrated jurisconsults and scholars of his age, who, through his work, "The Poetical Reason," greatly contributed to the reform of taste. Zeno, Maffei, and Muratori also distinguished themselves in the art of criticism, and by their works aided in overthrowing the school of Marini. At a later date, Gaspar Gozzi, through his "Observer," a periodical publication modeled after the "Spectator" of Addison, undertook to correct the literary taste of the country; for its invention, pungent wit, and satire, and the purity and correctness of its style, it is considered one of the best compositions of this kind. Baretti (1716-1789) propagated in England the taste for Italian literature, and at the same time published his "Literary Scourge," a criticism of the ancient and modern writers of Italy. His style, though always pure, is often caustic. He wrote several books in the English language, one of which is in defense of Shakspeare against Voltaire. Cesarotti (1730-1808), though eminent as a critic, introduced into the Italian language some innovations, which contributed to its corruption; while the nice judgment, good taste, and pure style of Parini place him at the head of this department. In the latter part of this period we find, in the criticisms of Monti, vigorous logic and a splendid and attractive style. Foscolo is distinguished for his acumen and pungent wit. The works of Perticari (1779-1822) are written with extreme polish, erudition, judgment, and dignity. In Leopardi, philosophical acumen equals the elegance of his style. Giordani (d. 1848), as a critic and an epigraphist, deserves notice for his fine judgment and pure taste, as do Tommaseo and Cattaneo, who are both epigrammatic, witty, and pungent.

The golden age of philology dates from the time of Lorenzo de' Medici to the seventeenth century. It then declined until the eighteenth, but revived in the works of Maffei, Muratori, Zeno, and others. In the same century this study was greatly promoted by Foscolo, Monti, and Cesari (1760-1828), who, among other philological works, published a new edition of the Dictionary della Crusca, revised and augmented. Of the modern writers on philology, Gherardini, Tommaseo, and Ascoli are the most prominent.

The revival of philosophy in Italy dates from the age of Galileo, when the authority of the Peripatetics was overthrown, and a new method introduced into scientific researches. From that time to the present, this science has been represented by opposite schools, the one characterized by sensualism and the other by rationalism. The experimental method of Galileo paved the way to the first, which holds that experience is the only source of knowledge, a doctrine which gained ground in the seventeenth century, became universally accepted in the eighteenth, through the influence of Locke and Condillac, and continued to prevail during the first part of the nineteenth. Gioja (1767-1829), and Romagnosi (1761-1835) are the greatest representatives of this system, in the last part of this period. But while the former developed sensualism in philosophy and economy, the latter applied it to political science and jurisprudence. The numerous Works of Gioja are distinguished for their practical value and clearness of style, though they lack eloquence and purity; those of Romagnosi are more abstract, and couched in obscure arid often incorrect language, but they are monuments of vast erudition, acute and profound judgment, and powerful dialectics.

Galluppi (1773-1846), though unable to extricate himself entirely from the sensualistic school, attempted the reform of philosophy, which resulted in a movement in Italy similar to that produced by Reid and Dugald Stewart in Scotland.

While sensualism was gaining ground in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, rationalism, having its roots in the Platonic system which had prevailed in the fifteenth and sixteenth, was remodeled under the influence of Descartes, Leibnitz, and Wolf, and opposed to the invading tendencies of its antagonist. From causes to be found in the spirit of the age and the political condition of the country, this system was unable to take the place to which it was entitled, though it succeeded in purifying sensualism from its more dangerous consequences, and infusing into it some of its own elements. But the overthrow of that system was completed only by the works of Rosmini and Gioberti. Rosmini (1795-1855) gave a new impulse to metaphysical researches, and created a new era in the history of Italian philosophy. His numerous works embrace all philosophical knowledge in its unity and universality, founded on a new basis, and developed with deep, broad, and original views. His philosophy, both inductive and deductive, rests on experimental method, reaches the highest problems of ideology and ontology, and infuses new life into all departments of science. This philosophical progress was greatly aided by Gioberti (1801-1851), whose life, however, was more particularly devoted to political pursuits. His work on "The Regeneration of Italy" contains his latest and soundest views on Italian nationality. Another distinguished philosophical and political writer is Mamiani, whose work on "The Rights of Nations" deserves the attention of all students of history and political science. As a statesman, he belongs to the National party, of which Count Cavour (1810-1861), himself an eminent writer on political economy, was the great representative, and to whose commanding influence is to be attributed the rapid progress which the Italian nation was making towards unity and independence at the time of his death.

FROM 1860 TO 1885.

During the last twenty-five years the rapid progress of political events in Italy seems to have absorbed the energies of the people, who have made little advance in literature. For the first time since the fall of the Roman empire the country has become a united kingdom, and in the national adjustment to the new conditions, and in the material and industrial development which has followed, the new literature has not yet, to any great extent, found voice. Yet this period of national formation and consolidation, however, has not been without its poets, among whom a few may be here named. Aleardo Aleardi (d. 1882) is one of the finest poetical geniuses that Italy has produced within the last century, but his writings show the ill effects of a poet sacrificing his art to a political cause, and when the patriot has ceased to declaim the poet ceases to sing. Prati (1815-1884), on the other hand, in his writings exemplifies the evil of a poet refusing to take part in the grand movement of his nation. He severs himself from all present interests and finds his subjects in sources which have no interest for his contemporaries. He has great metrical facility and his lyrics are highly praised. Carducci, like Aleardi, is a poet who has written on political subjects; he belongs to the class of closet democrats. His poems display a remarkable talent for the picturesque, forcible, and epigrammatic. The poems of Zanella are nearly all on scientific subjects connected with human feeling, and entitle him to a distinguished place among the refined poets of his country. A poet of greater promise than those already spoken of is Arnaboldi, who has the endowment requisite to become the first Italian poet of a new school, but who endangers his position by devoting his verse to utilitarian purposes.

The tendency of the younger poets is to realism and to representing its most materialistic features as beautiful. Against this current of the new poetry Alessandro Rizzi, Guerzoni, and others have uttered a strong protest in poetry and prose.

Among historians, Capponi is the author of a history of Florence; Zini has continued Farina's history of Italy; Bartoli, Settembrini, and De Sanctis have written histories of Italian literature; Villari is the author of able works on the life of Machiavelli and of Savonarola, and Berti has written the life of Giordano Bruno. In criticism philosophic, historical, and literary, Fiorentino, De Sanctis, Massarani, and Trezza are distinguished. Barili, Farina, Bersezio, and Giovagnoli are writers of fiction, and Cossa, Ferrari, and Giacosa are the authors of many dramatic works. The charming books of travel by De Amicis are extensively translated and very popular.

FRENCH LITERATURE.

INTRODUCTION.—1. French Literature and its Divisions.—2. The Language.

PERIOD FIRST.—1. The Troubadours.—2. The Trouvères French Literature in
the Fifteenth Century.—4. The Mysteries and Moralities: Charles of
Orleans, Villon, Ville-Hardouin, Joinville, Froissart, Philippe de
Commines.

PERIOD SECOND.—1. The Renaissance and the Reformation: Marguerite de
Valois, Marot, Rabelais, Calvin, Montaigne, Charron and others.—2. Light
Literature: Ronsard Jodelle, Hardy, Malherbe, Scarron, Madame de
Rambouillet, and others.—3. The French Academy.—4. The Drama:
Corneille.—5. Philosophy: Descartes, Pascal; Port Royal.—6. The Rise of
the Golden Age of French Literature: Louis XIV.—7. Tragedy: Racine.—8.
Comedy: Molière.—9. Fables, Satires, Mock-Heroic, and other Poetry: La
Fontaine, Boileau.—10. Eloquence of the Pulpit and of the Bar:
Bourdaloue, Bossuet, Massillon, Fléchier, Le Maître, D'Aguesseau, and
others.—11. Moral Philosophy: Rochefoucault La Bruyère, Nicole.—12.
History and Memoirs: Mézeray, Fleury, Rollin, Brantôme the Duke of Sully,
Cardinal de Retz.—13. Romance and Letter Writing: Fénelon, Madame de
Sévigné.

PERIOD THIRD.—1. The Dawn of Skepticism: Bayle, J. B. Rousseau,
Fontenelle, Lamotte.—2. Progress of Skepticism: Montesquieu, Voltaire.
—3. French Literature during the Revolution: D'Holbach, D'Alembert,
Diderot, J. J. Rousseau, Buffon, Beaumarchais, St. Pierre, and others.—4.
French Literature under the Empire: Madame de Staël, Châteaubriand, Royer-
Collard, Ronald, De Maistre.—5. French Literature from the Age of the
Restoration to the Present Time. History: Thierry, Sismondi, Thiers,
Mignet, Martin, Michelet, and others. Poetry and the Drama; Rise of the
Romantic School: Béranger, Lamartine, Victor Hugo, and others; Les
Parnassiens. Fiction: Hugo, Gautier, Dumas, Mérimée, Balzac, Sand, Sandeau
and others. Criticism: Sainte-Beuve, Taine, and others. Miscellaneous.

INTRODUCTION.

1. FRENCH LITERATURE AND ITS DIVISIONS.—Towards the middle of the fifth century the Franks commenced their invasions of Gaul, which ended in the conquest of the country, and the establishment of the French monarchy under Clovis. The period from Clovis to Charlemagne (487-768) is the most obscure of the Dark Ages. The principal writers, whose names have been preserved, are St. Rémy, the archbishop of Rheims (d. 535), distinguished for his eloquence, and Gregory of Tours (d. 595), whose contemporary history is valuable for the good faith in which it is written, in spite of the ignorance and credulity which it displays. The genius of Charlemagne (r. 768-814) gave a new impulse to learning. By his liberality he attracted the most distinguished scholars to his court, among others Alcuin, from England, whom he chose for his instructor; he established schools of theology and science, and appointed the most learned professors to preside over them. But in the century succeeding his death the country relapsed into barbarism.

In the south of France, Provence early became an independent kingdom, and consolidating its language, laws, and manners, at the close of the eleventh century it gave birth to the literature of the Troubadours; while in the north, the language and literature of the Trouvères, which were the germs of the national literature of France, were not developed until a century later.

In the schools established by Charlemagne for the education of the clergy, the scholastic philosophy originated, which prevailed throughout Europe in the Middle Ages. The most distinguished schoolmen or scholastics in France during this period are Roscellinus (fl. 1092), the originator of the controversy between the Nominalists and Realists, which occupied so prominent a place in the philosophy of the time; Abelard (1079-1142), equally celebrated for his learning, and for his unfortunate love for Héloïse; St. Bernard (1091-1153), one of the most influential ecclesiastics of the Middle Ages; and Thomas Aquinas (1227-1274) and Bonaventure (1221-1274), Italians who taught theology and philosophy at Paris, and who powerfully influenced the intellect of the age.

Beginning with the Middle Ages, the literary history of France may be divided into three periods. The first period extends from 1000 to 1500, and includes the literature of the Troubadours, the Trouvères, and of the fifteenth century.

The second period extends from 1500 to 1700, and includes the revival of the study of classical literature, or the Renaissance, and the golden age of French literature under Louis XIV.

The third period, extending from 1700 to 1885, comprises the age of skepticism introduced into French literature by Voltaire, the Encyclopaedists and others, the Revolutionary era, the literature of the Empire and of the Restoration, of the Second Empire, and of the present time.

2. THE LANGUAGE.—After the conquest of Gaul by Julius Caesar, Latin became the predominant language of the country; but on the overthrow of the Western Empire it was corrupted by the intermixture of elements derived from the northern invaders of the country, and from the general ignorance and barbarism of the times. At length a distinction was drawn between the language of the Gauls who called themselves Romans, and that of the Latin writers; and the Romance language arose from the former, while the Latin was perpetuated by the latter. At the commencement of the second race of monarchs, German was the language of Charlemagne and his court, Latin was the written language, and the Romance, still in a state of barbarism, was the dialect of the people. The subjects of Charlemagne were composed of two different races, the Germans, inhabiting along and beyond the Rhine, and the Wallons, who called themselves Romans. The name of Welsch or Wallons, given them by the Germans, was the same as Galli, which they had received from the Latins, and as Keltai or Celts, which they themselves acknowledged. The language which they spoke was called after them the Romance-Wallon, or rustic Romance, which was at first very much the same throughout France, except that as it extended southward the Latin prevailed, and in the north the German was more perceptible. These differences increased, and the languages rapidly grew more dissimilar. The people of the south called themselves Romans- provençaux, while the northern tribes added to the name of Romans, which they had assumed, that of Wallons, which they had received from the neighboring people. The Provençal was called the Langue d'oc, and the Wallon the Langue d'oui, from the affirmative word in each language, as the Italian was then called the Langue de sí, and the German the Langue de ya.

The invasion of the Normans, in the tenth century, supplied new elements to the Romance Wallon. They adopted it as their language, and stamped upon it the impress of their own genius. It thus became Norman-French. In 1066, William the Conqueror introduced it into England, and enforced its use among his new subjects by rigorous laws; thus the popular French became there the language of the court and of the educated classes, while it was still the vulgar dialect in France.

From the beginning of the twelfth century, the two dialects were known as the Provençal and the French. The former, though much changed, is still the dialect of the common people in Provence, Languedoc, Catalonia, Valencia, Majorca, and Minorca. In the thirteenth century, the northern French dialect gained the ascendency, chiefly in consequence of Paris becoming the centre of refinement and literature for all France. The Langue d'oui was, from its origin, deficient in that rhythm which exists in the Italian and Spanish languages. It was formed rather by an abbreviation than by a harmonious transformation of the Latin, and the metrical character of the language was gradually lost. The French became thus more accustomed to rhetorical measure than to poetical forms, and the language led them rather to eloquence than poetry. Francis I. established a professorship of the French language at Paris, and banished Latin from the public documents and courts of justice. The Academy, established by Cardinal Richelieu (1635), put an end to the arbitrary power of usage, and fixed the standard of pure French, though at the same time it restricted the power of genius over the language. Nothing was approved by the Academy unless it was received at court, and nothing was tolerated by the public that had not been sanctioned by the Academy. The language now acquired the most admirable precision, and thus recommended itself not only as the language of science and diplomacy, but of society, capable of conveying the most discriminating observations on character and manners, and the most delicate expressions of civility which involve no obligation. Hence its adoption as the court language in so many European countries. Among the dictionaries of the French language, that of the Academy holds the first rank.

PERIOD FIRST.

PROVENÇAL AND FRENCH LITERATURES IN THE MIDDLE AGES (1000-1500).

1. THE TROUBADOURS.—When, in the tenth century, the nations of the south of Europe attempted to give consistency to the rude dialects which had been produced by the mixture of the Latin with the northern tongues, the Provencal, or Langue d'oc, was the first to come to perfection. The study of this language became the favorite recreation of the higher classes during the tenth and eleventh centuries, and poetry the elegant occupation of those whose time was not spent in the ruder pastimes of the field. Thousands of poets, who were called troubadours (from trobar, to find or invent), flourished in this new language almost contemporaneously, and spread their reputation from the extremity of Spain to that of Italy. All at once, however, this ephemeral reputation vanished. The voice of the troubadours was silent, the Provençal was abandoned and sank into a mere dialect, and after a brilliant existence of three centuries (950-1250), its productions were ranked among those of the dead languages. The high reputation of the Provençal poets, and the rapid decline of their language, are two phenomena equally striking in the history of human culture. This literature, which gave models to other nations, yet among its crowds of agreeable poems did not produce a single masterpiece destined to immortality, was entirely the offspring of the age, and not of individuals. It reveals to us the sentiments and imagination of modern nations in their infancy; it exhibits what was common to all and pervaded all, and not what genius superior to the age enabled a single individual to accomplish.

Southern France, having been the inheritance of several of the successors of Charlemagne, was elevated to the rank of an independent kingdom in 879, by Bozon, and under his sovereignty, and that of his successors for 213 years, it enjoyed a paternal government. The accession of the Count of Barcelona to the crown, in 1092, introduced into Provence the spirit both of liberty and chivalry, and a taste for elegance and the arts, with all the sciences of the Arabians. The union of these noble sentiments added brilliancy to that poetical spirit which shone out at once over Provence and all the south of Europe, like an electric flash in the midst of profound darkness, illuminating all things with the splendor of its flame.

At the same time with Provençal poetry, chivalry had its rise; it was, in a manner, the soul of the new literature, and gave to it a character different from anything in antiquity. Love, in this age, while it was not more tender and passionate than among the Greeks and Romans, was more respectful, and women were regarded with something of that religious veneration which the Germans evinced towards their prophetesses. To this was added that passionate ardor of feeling peculiar to the people of the South, the expression of which was borrowed from the Arabians. But although among individuals love preserved this pure and religious character, the license engendered by the feudal system, and the disorders of the time, produced a universal corruption of manners which found expression in the literature of the age. Neither the sirventes nor the chanzos of the troubadours, nor the fabliaux of the trouvères, nor the romances of chivalry, can be read without a blush. On every page the grossness of the language is only equaled by the shameful depravity of the characters and the immorality of the incidents. In the south of France, more particularly, an extreme laxity of manners prevailed among the nobility. Gallantry seems to have been the sole object of existence. Ladies were proud of the celebrity conferred upon their charms by the songs of the troubadours, and they themselves often professed the "Gay Science," as poetry was called. They instituted the Courts of Love where questions of gallantry were gravely discussed and decided by their suffrages; and they gave, in short, to the whole south of France the character of a carnival. No sooner had the Gay Science been established in Provence, than it became the fashion in surrounding countries. The sovereigns of Europe adopted the Provençal language, and enlisted themselves among the poets, and there was soon neither baron nor knight who did not feel himself bound to add to his fame as a warrior the reputation of a gentle troubadour. Monarchs were now the professors of the art, and the only patrons were the ladies. Women, no longer beautiful ciphers, acquired complete liberty of action, and the homage paid to them amounted almost to worship.

At the festivals of the haughty barons, the lady of the castle, attended by youthful beauties, distributed crowns to the conquerors in the jousts and tournaments. She then, in turn, surrounded by her ladies, opened her Court of Love, and the candidates for poetical honors entered with their harps and contended for the prize in extempore verses called tensons. The Court of Love then entered upon a grave discussion of the merits of the question, and a judgment or arrêt d'amour was given, frequently in verse, by which the dispute was supposed to be decided. These courts often formally justified the abandonment of moral duty, and assuming the forms and exercising the power of ordinary tribunals, they defined and prescribed the duties of the sexes, and taught the arts of love and song according to the most depraved moral principles, mingled, however, with an affected display of refined sentimentality. Whatever may have been their utility in the advancement of the language and the cultivation of literary taste, these institutions extended a legal sanction to vice, and inculcated maxims of shameful profligacy.

The songs of the Provençals were divided into chanzos and sirventes; the object of the former was love, and of the latter war, politics, or satire. The name of tenson was given to those poetical contests in verse which took place in the Courts of Love, or before illustrious princes. The songs were sung from château to château, either by the troubadours themselves, or by the jongleur or instrument player by whom they were attended; they often abounded in extravagant hyperboles, trivial conceits, and grossness of expression. Ladies, whose attractions were estimated by the number and desperation of their lovers, and the songs of their troubadours, were not offended if licentiousness mingled with gallantry in the songs composed in their praise. Authors addressed prayers to the saints for aid in their amorous intrigues, and men, seemingly rational, resigned themselves to the wildest transports of passion for individuals whom, in some cases, they had never seen. Thus, religious enthusiasm, martial bravery, and licentious love, so grotesquely mingled, formed the very life of the Middle Ages, and impossible as it is to transfuse into a translation the harmony of Provençal verse, or to find in it, when stripped of this harmony, any poetical idea, these remains are valuable since they present us with a picture of the life and manners of the times.

The intercourse of the Provençals with the Moors of Spain, which, as we have seen, was greatly increased by the union of Catalonia and Provence (1092), introduced into the North an acquaintance with the arts and learning of the Arabians. It was then that rhyme, the essential characteristic of Arabian poetry, was adopted by the troubadours into the Provençal language, and thence communicated to the nations of modern Europe.

The poetry of the troubadours borrowed nothing from history, mythology, or from foreign manners, and no reference to the sciences or the learning of the schools mingled with their simple effusions of sentiment. This fact enables us to comprehend how it was possible for princes and knights, who were often unable to read, to be yet ranked among the most ingenious troubadours. Several public events, however, materially contributed to enlarge the sphere of intellect of the knights of the Langue d'oc. The first was the conquest of Toledo and Castile by Alphonso VI., in which he was seconded by the Cid Rodriguez, the hero of Spain, and by a number of French Provençal knights; the second was the preaching of the Crusades. Of all the events recorded in the history of the world, there is, perhaps, not one of a nature so highly poetical as these holy wars; not one which presents a more powerful picture of the grand effects of enthusiasm, of noble sacrifices of self-interest to faith, sentiment, and passion, which are essentially poetical. Many of the troubadours assumed the cross; others were detained in Europe by the bonds of love, and the conflict between passion and religious enthusiasm lent its influence to the poems they composed. The third event was the succession of the kings of England to the sovereignty of a large part of the countries where the Langue d'oc prevailed, which influenced the manners and opinions of the troubadours, and introduced them to the courts of the most powerful monarchs; while the encouragement given to them by the kings of the house of Plantagenet had a great influence on the formation of the English language, and furnished Chaucer, the father of English literature, with his first models for imitation.

The troubadours numbered among their ranks the most illustrious sovereigns and heroes of the age. Among others, Richard Coeur de Lion, who, as a poet and knight, united in his own person all the brilliant qualities of the time. A story is told of him, that when he was detained a prisoner in Germany, the place of his imprisonment was discovered by Blondel, his minstrel, who sang beneath the fortress a tenson which he and Richard had composed in common, and to which Richard responded. Bertrand de Born, who was intimately connected with Richard, and who exercised a powerful influence over the destinies of the royal family of England, has left a number of original poems; Sordello of Mantua was the first to adopt the ballad form of writing, and many of his love songs are expressed in a pure and delicate style. Both of these poets are immortalized in the Divine Comedy of Dante. The history of Geoffrey Rudel illustrates the wildness of the imagination and manners of the troubadours. He was a gentleman of Provence, and hearing the knights who had returned from the Holy Land speak with enthusiasm of the Countess of Tripoli, who had extended to them the most generous hospitality, and whose grace and beauty equaled her virtues, he fell in love with her without ever having seen her, and, leaving the Court of England, he embarked for the Holy Land, to offer to her the homage of his heart. During the voyage he was attacked by a severe illness, and lost the power of speech. On his arrival in the harbor, the countess, being informed that a celebrated poet was dying of love for her, visited him on shipboard, took him kindly by the hand, and attempted to cheer his spirits. Rudel revived sufficiently to thank the lady for her humanity and to declare his passion, when his voice was silenced by the convulsions of death. He was buried at Tripoli, and, by the orders of the countess, a tomb of porphyry was erected to his memory. It is unnecessary to mention other names among the multitude of these poets, who all hold nearly the same rank. An extreme monotony reigns throughout their works, which offer little individuality of character.

After the thirteenth century, the troubadours were heard no more, and the efforts of the counts of Provence, the magistrates of Toulouse, and the kings of Arragon to awaken, their genius by the Courts of Love and the Floral Games were vain. They themselves attributed their decline to the degradation into which the jongleurs, with whom at last they were confounded, had fallen. But their art contained within itself a more immediate principle of decay in the profound ignorance of its professors. They had no other models than the songs of the Arabians, which perverted their taste. They made no attempt at epic or dramatic poetry; they had no classical allusions, no mythology, nor even a romantic imagination, and, deprived of the riches of antiquity, they had few resources within themselves. The poetry of Provence was a beautiful flower springing up on a sterile soil, and no cultivation could avail in the absence of its natural nourishment. From the close of the twelfth century the language began to decline, and public events occurred which hastened its downfall, and reduced it to the condition of a provincial dialect.

Among the numerous sects which sprang up in Christendom during the Middle Ages, there was one which, though bearing different names at different times, more or less resembled what is now known as Protestantism; in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries it was called the faith of the Albigenses, as it prevailed most widely in the district of Albi. It easily came to be identified with the Provençal language, as this was the chosen vehicle of its religious services. This sect was tolerated and protected by the Court of Toulouse. It augmented its numbers; it devoted itself to commerce and the arts, and added much to the prosperity which had long distinguished the south of France. The Albigenses had lived long and peaceably side by side with the Catholics in the cities and villages; but Innocent III. sent legates to Provence, who preached, discussed, and threatened, and met a freedom of thought and resistance to authority which Rome was not willing to brook. Bitter controversy was now substituted for the amiable frivolity of the tensons, and theological disputes superseded those on points of gallantry. The long struggle between the poetry of the troubadours and the preaching of the monks came to a crisis; the severe satires which the disorderly lives of the clergy called forth became severer still, and the songs of the troubadours wounded the power and pride of Rome more deeply than ever, while they stimulated the Albigenses to a valiant resistance or a glorious death. A crusade followed, and when the dreadful strife was over, Provençal poetry had received its death-blow. The language of Provence was destined to share the fate of its poetry; it became identified in the minds of the orthodox with heresy and rebellion. When Charles of Anjou acquired the kingdom of Naples, he drew thither the Provençal nobility, and thus drained the kingdom of those who had formerly maintained its chivalrous manners. In the beginning of the fourteenth century, when the Court of Rome was removed to Avignon, the retinues of the three successive popes were Italians, and the Tuscan language entirely superseded the Provençal among the higher classes.

2. THE TROUVÈRES.—While the Provençal was thus relapsing into a mere dialect, the north of France was maturing a new language and literature of an entirely different character. Normandy, a province of France, was invaded in the tenth century by a new northern tribe, who, under the command of Rollo or Raoul the Dane, incorporated themselves with the ancient inhabitants. The victors adopted the language of the vanquished, stamped upon it the impress of their own genius, and gave it a fixed form. It was from Normandy that the first writers and poets in the French language sprang. While the Romance Provençal spoken in the South was sweet, and expressive of effeminate manners, the Romance-Wallon was energetic and warlike, and represented the severer manners of the Germans. Its poetry, too, was widely different from the Provençal. It was no longer the idle baron sighing for his lady-love, but the songs of a nation of hardy warriors, celebrating the prowess of their ancestors with all the exaggerations that fancy could supply. The Langue d'oui became the vehicle of literature only in the twelfth century,—a hundred years subsequent to the Romance Provençal. The poets and reciters of tales, giving the name of Troubadour a French termination, called themselves Trouvères. They originated the brilliant romances of chivalry, the fabliaux or tales of amusement, and the dramatic invention of the Mysteries. The first literary work in this tongue is the versified romance of a fabulous history of the early kings of England, beginning with Brutus, the grandson of AEneas, who, after passing many enchanted isles, at length establishes himself in England, where he finds King Arthur, the chivalric institution of the Round Table, and the enchanter Merlin, one of the most popular personages of the Middle Ages. Out of this legend arose some of the boldest creations of the human fancy. The word "romance," now synonymous with fictitious composition, originally meant only a work in the modern dialect, as distinguished from the scholastic Latin. There is little doubt that these tales were originally believed to be strictly true. One of the first romances of chivalry was "Tristam de Léonois," written in 1190. This was soon followed by that of the "San Graal" and "Lancelot;" and previously to 1213 Ville-Hardouin had written in the French language a "History of the Conquest of Constantinople." The poem of "Alexander," however, which appeared about the same time, has enjoyed the greatest reputation. It is a series of romances and marvelous histories, said to be the result of the labors of nine celebrated poets of the time. Alexander is introduced, surrounded not by the pomp of antiquity, but by the splendors of chivalry. The high renown of this poem has given the name of Alexandrine verse to the measure in which it is written.

The spirit of chivalry which burst forth in the romances of the trouvères, the heroism of honor and love, the devotion of the powerful to the weak, the supernatural fictions, so novel and so dissimilar to everything in antiquity or in later times, the force and brilliancy of imagination which they display, have been variously attributed to the Arabians and the Germans, but they were undoubtedly the invention of the Normans. Of all the people of ancient Europe, they were the most adventurous and intrepid. They established a dynasty in Russia; they cut their way through a perfidious and sanguinary nation to Constantinople; they landed on the coasts of England and France, and surprised nations who were ignorant of their existence; they conquered Sicily, and established a principality in the heart of Syria. A people so active, so enterprising, and so intrepid, found no greater delight in their leisure hours than listening to tales of adventures, dangers, and battles. The romances of chivalry are divided into three distinct classes. They relate to three different epochs in the early part of the Middle Ages, and represent three bands of fabulous heroes. In the romances of the first class, the exploits of Arthur, son of Pendragon, the last British king who defended England against the invasion of the Anglo-Saxons, are celebrated. In the second we find the Amadises, but whether they belong to French literature has been reasonably disputed. The scene is placed nearly in the same countries as in the romances of the Round Table, but there is a want of locality about them, and the name and the times are absolutely fabulous. "Amadis of Gaul," the first of these romances, and the model of all the rest, is claimed as the work of Vasco Lobeira, a Portuguese (1290-1325); but no doubt exists with regard to the continuations and numerous imitations of this work, which are incontestably of Spanish origin, and were in their highest repute when Cervantes produced his inimitable "Don Quixote." The third class of chivalric romances, relating to the court of Charlemagne and his Paladins, is entirely French, although their celebrity is chiefly due to the renowned Italian poet who availed himself of their fictions. The most ancient monument of the marvelous history of Charlemagne is the chronicle of Turpin, of uncertain date, and which, though fabulous, can scarcely be considered as a romance. This and other similar narratives furnished materials for the romances, which appeared at the conclusion of the Crusades, when a knowledge of the East had enriched the French imagination with all the treasures of the Arabian. The trouvères were not only the inventors of the romances of chivalry, but they originated the allegories, and the dramatic compositions of southern Europe. Although none of their works have obtained a high reputation or deserve to be ranked among the masterpieces of human intellect, they are still worthy of attention as monuments of the progress of mind.

The French possessed, above every other nation of modern times, an inventive spirit, but they were, at the same time, the originators of those tedious allegorical poems which have been imitated by all the romantic nations. The most ancient and celebrated of these is the "Romance of the Rose," though not a romance in the present sense of the word. At the period of its composition, the French language was still called the Romance, and all its more voluminous productions Romances. The "Romance of the Rose" was the work of two authors, Guillaume de Lorris, who commenced it in the early part of the thirteenth century, and Jean de Meun (b. 1280), by whom it was continued. Although it reached the appalling length of twenty thousand verses, no book was ever more popular. It was admired as a masterpiece of wit, invention, and philosophy; the highest mysteries of theology were believed to be concealed in this poetical form, and learned commentaries were written upon its veiled meaning by preachers, who did not scruple to cite passages from it in the pulpit. But the tedious poem and its numberless imitations are nothing but rhymed prose, which it would be impossible to recognize as poetry, if the measure of the verse were taken away.

In considering the popularity of these long, didactic works, it must not be forgotten that the people of that day were almost entirely without books. A single volume was the treasure of a whole household. In unfavorable weather it was read to a circle around the fire, and when it was finished the perusal was again commenced. No comparison with other books enabled men to form a judgment upon its merits. It was reverenced like holy writ, and they accounted themselves happy in being able to comprehend it.

Another species of poetry peculiar to this period had at least the merit of being exceedingly amusing. This was the fabliaux, tales written in verse in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. They are treasures of invention, simplicity, and gayety, of which other nations can furnish no instances, except by borrowing from the French. A collection of Indian tales, translated into Latin in the tenth or eleventh century, was the first storehouse of the trouvères. The Arabian tales, transmitted by the Moors to the Castilians, and by the latter to the French, were in turn versified. But above all, the anecdotes collected in the towns and castles of France, the adventures of lovers, the tricks of gallants, and the numerous subjects gathered from the manners of the age, afforded inexhaustible materials for ludicrous narratives to the writers of these tales. They were treasures common to all. We seldom know the name of the trouvère by whom these anecdotes were versified. As they were related, each one varied them according to the impression he wished to produce. At this period there were neither theatrical entertainments nor games at cards to fill up the leisure hours of society, and the trouvères or relators of the tales were welcomed at the courts, castles, and private houses with an eagerness proportioned to the store of anecdotes which they brought with them to enliven conversation. Whatever was the subject of their verse, legends, miracles, or licentious anecdotes, they were equally acceptable. These tales were the models of those of Boccaccio, La Fontaine, and others. Some of them have had great fame, and have passed from tongue to tongue, and from age to age, down to our own times. Several of them have been introduced upon the stage, and others formed the originals of Parnell's "Hermit," of the "Zaïre" of Voltaire, and of the "Renard," which Goethe has converted into a long poem. But perhaps the most interesting and celebrated of all the fabliaux is that of "Aucassin and Nicolette," which has furnished the subject for a well-known opera.

It was at this period, when the ancient drama was entirely forgotten, that a dramatic form was given to the great events which accompanied the establishment of the Christian religion. The first to introduce this grotesque species of composition, were the pilgrims who had returned from the Holy Land. In the twelfth or thirteenth centuries, their dramatic representations were first exhibited in the open streets; but it was only at the conclusion of the fourteenth that a company of pilgrims undertook to amuse the public by regular dramatic entertainments. They were called the Fraternity of the Passion, from the passion of our Saviour being one of their most celebrated representations. This mystery, the most ancient dramatic work of modern Europe, comprehends the whole history of our Lord, from his baptism to his death. The piece was too long for one representation, and was therefore continued from day to day. Eighty-seven characters successively appear in this mystery, among whom are the three persons of the Trinity, angels, apostles, devils, and a host of other personages, the invention of the poet's brain. To fill the comic parts, the dialogues of the devils were introduced, and their eagerness to maltreat one another always produced much laughter in the assembly. Extravagant machinery was employed to give to the representation the pomp which we find in the modern opera; and this drama, placing before the eyes of a Christian assembly all those incidents for which they felt the highest veneration, must have affected them much more powerfully than even the finest tragedies can do at the present day.

The mystery of the Passion was followed by a crowd of imitations. The whole of the Old Testament, and the lives of all the saints, were brought upon the stage. The theatre on which these mysteries were represented was always composed of an elevated scaffold divided into three parts,—heaven, hell, and the earth between them. The proceedings of the Deity and Lucifer might be discerned in their respective abodes, and angels descended and devils ascended, as their interference in mundane affairs was required. The pomp of these representations went on increasing for two centuries, and, as great value was set upon the length of the piece, some mysteries could not be represented in less than forty days.

The "Clerks of the Revels," an incorporated society at Paris, whose duty it was to regulate the public festivities, resolved to amuse the people with dramatic representations themselves, but as the Fraternity of the Passion had obtained a royal license to represent the mysteries, they were compelled to abstain from that kind of exhibition. They therefore invented a new one, to which they gave the name of "Moralities," and which differed little from the mysteries, except in name. They were borrowed from the Parables, or the historical parts of the Bible, or they were purely allegorical. To the Clerks of the Revels we also owe the invention of modern comedy. They mingled their moralities with farces, the sole object of which was to excite laughter, and in which all the gayety and vivacity of the French character were displayed. Some of these plays still retain their place upon the French stage. At the commencement of the fifteenth century another comic company was established, who introduced personal and even political satire upon the stage. Thus every species of dramatic representation was revived by the French. This was the result of the talent for imitation so peculiar to the French people, and of that pliancy of thought and correctness of intellect which enables them to conceive new characters. All these inventions, which led to the establishment of the Romantic drama in other countries, were known in France more than a century before the rise of the Spanish or Italian theatre, and even before the classical authors were first studied and imitated. At the end of the sixteenth century, these new pursuits acquired a more immediate influence over the literature of France, and wrought a change in its spirit and rules, without, however, altering the national character and taste which had been manifested in the earliest productions of the trouvères.

3. FRENCH LITERATURE IN THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY.—French had as yet been merely a popular language; it varied from province to province, and from author to author, because no masterpiece had inaugurated any one of its numerous dialects. It was disdained by the more serious writers, who continued to employ the Latin. In the fifteenth century literature assumed a somewhat wider range, and the language began to take precision and force. But with much general improvement and literary industry there was still nothing great or original, nothing to mark an epoch in the history of letters. The only poets worthy of notice were Charles, Duke of Orleans (1391-1465), and Villon, a low ruffian of Paris (1431-1500). Charles was taken prisoner at the battle of Agincourt, and carried to England, where he was detained for twenty-five years, and where he wrote a volume of poems in which he imitated the allegorical style of the Romance of the Rose. The verses of Villon were inspired by the events of his not very creditable life. Again and again he suffered imprisonment for petty larcenies, and at the age of twenty-five was condemned to be hanged. His language is not that of the court, but of the people; and his poetry marks the first sensible progress after the Romance of the Rose.

It has been well said that literature begins with poetry; but it is established by prose, which fixes the language. The earliest work in French prose is the chronicle of Ville-Hardouin (1150-1213), written in the thirteenth century. It is a personal narrative and relates with graphic particularity the conquest of Constantinople by the knights of Christendom. This ancient chronicle traces out for us some of the realities, of which the mediaeval romances were the ideal, and enables us to judge in a measure how far these romances embody substantial truth.

A great improvement in style is apparent in Joinville (1223-1317), the amiable and light-hearted ecclesiastic who wrote the Life of St. Louis, whom he had accompanied to the Holy Land, and whose pious adventures he affectionately records. Notwithstanding the anarchy which prevailed in France during the fourteenth century, some social progress was made; but while public events were hostile to poetry, they gave inspiration to the historic muse, and Froissart arose to impart vivacity of coloring to historic narrative.

Froissart (1337-1410) was an ecclesiastic of the day, but little in his life or writings bespeaks the sacred calling. Having little taste for the duties of his profession, he was employed by the Lord of Montfort to compose a chronicle of the wars of the time; but there were no books to tell him of the past, no regular communication between nations to inform him of the present; so he followed the fashion of knights errant, and set out on horseback, not to seek adventures, but, as an itinerant historian, to find materials for his chronicle. He wandered from town to town, and from castle to castle, to see the places of which he would write, and to learn events on the spot where they occurred. His first journey was to England; here he was employed by Queen Philippa of Hainault to accompany the Duke of Clarence to Milan, where he met Boccaccio and Chaucer. He afterwards passed into the service of several of the princes of Europe, to whom he acted as secretary and poet, always gleaning material for historic record. His book is an almost universal history of the different states of Europe, from 1322 to the end of the fourteenth century. He troubles himself with no explanations or theories of cause and effect, nor with the philosophy of state policy; he is simply a graphic story-teller. Sir Walter Scott called Froissart his master.

Philippe de Commines (1445-1509) was a man of his age, but in advance of it, combining the simplicity of the fifteenth century with the sagacity of a later period. An annalist, like Froissart, he was also a statesman, and a political philosopher; embracing, like Machiavelli and Montesquieu, the remoter consequences which flowed from the events he narrated and the principles he unfolded. He was an unscrupulous diplomat in the service of Louis XI., and his description of the last years of that monarch is a striking piece of history, whence poets and novelists have borrowed themes in later times. But neither the romance of Sir Walter Scott nor the song of Béranger does justice to the reality, as presented by the faithful Commines.

PERIOD SECOND.

THE RENAISSANCE AND THE GOLDEN AGE OF FRENCH LITERATURE (1500-1700).

1. THE RENAISSANCE AND THE REFORMATION.—During the preceding ages, erudition and civilization had not gone hand-in-hand. On the one side there was the bold, chivalric mind of young Europe, speaking with the tongues of yesterday, while on the other was the ecclesiastical mind, expressing itself in degenerate Latin. The one was a life of gayety and rude disorder—the life of court and castle as depicted in the literature just scanned; the other, that of men separated from the world, who had been studying the literary remains of antiquity, and transcribing and treasuring them for future generations. Hitherto these two sections had held their courses apart; now they were to meet and blend in harmony. The vernacular poets, on the one hand, borrowing thought and expression from the classics, and the clergy, on the other, becoming purveyors of light literature to the court circles.

The fifteenth century, though somewhat barren, had prepared for the fecundity of succeeding ages. The revival of the study of ancient literature, which was promoted by the downfall of Constantinople, the invention of printing, the discovery of the new world, the decline of feudalism, and the consequent elevation of the middle classes,—all concurred to promote a rapid improvement of the human intellect.

During the early part of the sixteenth century, all the ardor of the French mind was turned to the study of the dead languages; men of genius had no higher ambition than to excel in them, and many in their declining years went in their gray hairs to the schools where the languages of Homer and Cicero were taught. In civil and political society, the same enthusiasm manifested itself in the imitation of antique manners; people dressed in the Greek and Roman fashions, borrowed from them the usages of life, and made a point of dying like the heroes of Plutarch.

The religious reformation came soon after to restore the Christian, as the revival of letters had brought back the pagan antiquity. Ignorance was dissipated, and religion was disengaged from philosophy. The Renaissance, as the revival of antique learning was called, and the Reformation, at first made common cause. One of those who most eagerly imbibed the spirit of both was the Princess Marguerite de Valois (1492-1549), elder sister of Francis I., who obtained the credit of many generous actions which were truly hers. The principal work of this lady was "L'Heptaméron," or the History of the Fortunate Lovers, written on the plan and in the spirit of the Decameron of Boccaccio, a work which a lady of our times would be unwilling to own acquaintance with, much more to adopt as a model; but the apology for Marguerite must be found in the manners of the times. L'Heptaméron is the earliest French prose that can be read without a glossary.

In 1518, when Margaret was twenty-six years of age, she received from her brother a gifted poet as valet-de-chambre; this was Marot (1495-1544), between whom and the learned princess a poetical intercourse was maintained. Marot had imbibed the principles of Calvin, and had also drank deeply of the spirit of the Renaissance; but he displayed the poet more truly before he was either a theologian or a classical scholar. He may be considered the last type of the old French school, of that combination of grace and archness, of elegance and simplicity, of familiarity and propriety, which is a national characteristic of French poetic literature, and in which they have never been imitated.

Francis Rabelais (1483-1553) was one of the most remarkable persons that figured in the Renaissance, a learned scholar, physician, and philosopher, though known to posterity chiefly as an obscene humorist. He is called by Lord Bacon "the great jester of France." He was at first a monk of the Franciscan order, but he afterwards threw off the sacerdotal character, and studied medicine. From about the year 1534, Rabelais was in the service of the Cardinal Dubellay, and a favorite in the court circles of Paris and Rome. It was probably during this period that he published, in successive parts, the work on which his popular fame has rested, the "Lives of Gargantua and Pantagruel." It consists of the lives and adventures of these two gigantic heroes, father and son, with the waggeries and practical jokes of Panurge, their jongleur, and the blasphemies and obscenities of Friar John, a fighting, swaggering, drinking monk. With these are mingled dissertations, sophistries, and allegorical satires in abundance. The publication of the work created a perfect uproar at the Sorbonne, and among the monks who were its principal victims; but the cardinals enjoyed its humor, and protected its author, while the king, Francis I., pronounced it innocent and delectable. It became the book of the day, and passed through countless editions and endless commentaries; and yet it is agreed on all hands that there exists not another work, admitted as literature, that would bear a moment's comparison with it, for indecency, profanity, and repulsive and disgusting coarseness. His work is now a mere curiosity for the student of antique literature.

As Rabelais was the leading type of the Renaissance, so was Calvin (1509- 1564) of the Reformation. Having embraced the principles of Luther, he went considerably farther in his views. In 1532 he established himself at Geneva, where he organized a church according to his own ideas. In 1535 he published his "Institutes of the Christian Religion," distinguished for great severity of doctrine. His next most celebrated work is a commentary on the Scriptures.

Intellect continued to struggle with its fetters. Many, like Rabelais, mistrusted the whole system of ecclesiastical polity established by law, and yet did not pin their faith on the dictates of the austere Calvin. The almost inevitable consequence was a wide and universal skepticism, replacing the former implicit subjection to Romanism.

The most eminent type of this school was Montaigne (1533-1592), who, in his "Essays," shook the foundations of all the creeds of his day, without offering anything to replace them. He is considered the earliest philosophical writer in French prose, the first of those who contributed to direct the minds of his countrymen to the study of human nature. In doing so, he takes himself as his subject; he dissects his feelings, emotions, and tendencies with the coolness of an operating surgeon. To a singular power of self-investigation and an acute observation of the actions of men, he added great affluence of thought and excursiveness of fancy, which render him, in spite of his egotism, a most attractive writer. As he would have considered it dishonest to conceal anything about himself, he has told much that our modern ideas of decorum would deem better untold.

Charron (1541-1603), the friend and disciple of Montaigne, was as bold a thinker, though inferior as a writer. In his book, "De la Sagesse," he treats religion as a mere matter of speculation, a system of dogmas without practical influence. Other writers followed in the same steps, and affected, like him, to place skepticism at the service of good morals. "License," says a French writer, "had to come before liberty, skepticism before philosophical inquiry, the school of Montaigne before that of Descartes." On the other hand, St. Francis de Sales (1567-1622), in his "Introduction to a Devout Life," and other works, taught that the only cure for the evils of human nature was to be found in the grace which was revealed by Christianity.

In these struggles of thought, in this conflict of creeds, the language acquired vigor and precision. In the works of Calvin, it manifested a seriousness of tone, and a severe purity of style which commanded general respect. An easy, natural tone was imparted to it by Amyot (1513-1593), professor of Greek and Latin at the University of Paris, who enriched the literature with elegant translations, in which he blended Hellenic graces with those strictly French.

2. LIGHT LITERATURE.—Ronsard (1524-1585), the favorite poet of Mary Queen of Scots, flourished at the time that the rage for ancient literature was at its height. He traced the first outlines of modern French poetry, and introduced a higher style of poetic thought and feeling than had hitherto been known. To him France owes the first attempt at the ode and the heroic epic; in the former, he is regarded as the precursor of Malherbe, who is still looked on as a model in this style, But Ronsard, and the numerous school which he formed, not only imitated the spirit and form of the ancients, but aimed to subject his own language to combinations and inversions like those of the Greek and Latin, and foreign roots and phrases began to overpower the reviving flexibility of the French idiom.

Under this influence, the drama was restored by Jodelle (1532-1573) and others, in the shape of imitations and translations. Towards the end of the century, however, there appeared a reaction against this learned tragedy, led by Alexander Hardy (1560-1631), who, with little or no original genius, produced about twelve hundred plays. He borrowed in every direction, and imitated the styles of all nations. But the general taste, however, soon returned to the Greek and Roman school.

The glorious reign of Henry IV. had been succeeded by the stormy minority of Louis XIII., when Malherbe (1556-1628), the tyrant of words and syllables, appeared as the reformer of poetry. He attracted attention by ridiculing the style of Ronsard. He became the laureate of the court, and furnished for it that literature in which it was beginning to take delight. In the place of Latin and Greek French, he inaugurated the extreme of formality; the matter of his verse was made subordinate to the manner; he substituted polish for native beauty, and effect for genuine feeling.

I. de Balzac (1594-1624), in his frivolous epistles, used prose as Malherbe did verse, and a numerous school of the same character was soon formed. The works of Voiture (1598-1648) abound in the pleasantries and affected simplicity which best befit such compositions. The most trifling adventure—the death of a cat or a dog—was transformed into a poem, in which there was no poetry, but only a graceful facility, which was considered perfectly charming. Then, as though native affectation were not enough, the borrowed wit of Italian Marinism, which had been eagerly adopted in Spain, made its way thence into France, with Spanish exaggeration superadded. A disciple of this school declares that the eyes of his mistress are as "large as his grief, and as black as his fate." Malherbe and his school fell afterwards into neglect, for fashionable caprice had turned its attention to burlesque, and every one believed himself capable of writing in this style, from the lords and ladies of the court down to the valets and maid-servants. It was men like Scarron (1610- 1660), familiar with literary study, and, from choice, with the lowest society, who introduced this form, the pleasantry of which was increased by contrast with the finical taste that had been in vogue. Fashion ruled the light literature of France during the first half of the seventeenth century, and through all its diversities, its great characteristic is the absence of all true and serious feeling, and of that inspiration which is drawn from realities. In the productions of half a century, we find not one truly elevated, energetic, or pathetic work.

It is during this time, that is, between the death of Henry IV (1610), and that of Richelieu (1642), that we mark the beginning of literary societies in France. The earliest in point of date was headed by Madame de Rambouillet (1610-1642), whose hotel became a seminary of female authors and factious politicians. This lady was of Italian origin, of fine taste and education. She had turned away in disgust from the rude manners of the court of Henry IV, and devoted herself to the study of the classics. After the death of the king, she gathered a distinguished circle round herself, combining the elegances of high life with the cultivation of literary taste. While yet young, Madame de Rambouillet was attacked with a malady which obliged her to keep her bed the greater part of every year. An elegant alcove was formed in the great salon of the house, where her bed was placed, and here she received her friends. The choicest wits of Paris flocked to her levées; the Hotel de Rambouillet became the fashionable rendezvous of literature and taste, and bas-bleu-ism was the rage. Even the infirmities of this accomplished lady were imitated. An alcove was essential to every fashionable belle, who, attired in a coquettish dishabille, and reclining on satin pillows, fringed with lace, gave audience to whispered gossip in the ruelle, as the space around the bed was called.

Among the personages renowned in their day, who frequented the Hotel de Rambouillet, were Mademoiselle de Scudery (1607-1701), then in the zenith of her fame, Madame de Sévigné (1627-1696), Mademoiselle de la Vergne, afterwards Madame de Lafayette (1655-1693), eminent as literary characters; the Duchess de Longueville, the Duchess de Chevreuse, and Madame Deshoulières, afterwards distinguished for their political ability. At the feet of these noble ladies reclined a number of young seigneurs, dangling their little hats surcharged with plumes, while their mantles of silk and gold were spread loosely on the floor. And there, in more grave attire, were the professional littérateurs, such as Balzac, Voiture, Ménage, Scudery, Chaplain, Costart, Conrad, and the Abbé Bossuet. The Cupid of the hotel was strictly Platonic. The romances of Mademoiselle de Scudery were long-spun disquisitions on love; her characters were drawn from the individuals around her, who in turn attempted to sustain the characters and adopt the language suggested in her books. One folly led on another, till at last the vocabulary of the salon became so artificial, that none but the initiated could understand it. As for Mademoiselle de Scudery herself, applying, it would seem, the impracticable tests she had invented for sounding the depths of the tender passion, though not without suitors, she died an old maid, at the advanced age of ninety-four.

The civil wars of the Fronde (1649-1654) were unfavorable to literary meetings. The women who took the most distinguished part in these troubles had graduated, so to say, from the Hotel de Rambouillet, which, perhaps for this reason, declined with the ascendency of Louis XIV. The agitations of the Fronde taught him to distrust clever women, and he always showed a marked dislike for female authorship.

3. THE FRENCH ACADEMY.—The taste for literature, which had become so generally diffused, rendered the men whose province it was to define its laws the chiefs of a brilliant empire. Scholars, therefore, frequently met together for critical discussion. About the year 1629 a certain number of men of letters agreed to assemble one day in each week. It was a union of friendship, a companionship of men of kindred tastes and occupations; and to prevent intrusion, the meetings were for some time kept secret. When Richelieu came to hear of the existence of the society, desirous to make literature subservient to his political glory, he proposed to these gentlemen to form themselves into a corporation, established by letters patent, at the same time hinting that he had the power to put a stop to their secret meetings. The argument was irresistible, and the little society consented to receive from his highness the title of the French Academy, in 1635. The members of the Academy were to occupy themselves in establishing rules for the French language, and to take cognizance of whatever books were written by its members, and by others who desired its opinions.

4. THE DRAMA.—The endeavor to imitate the ancients in the tragic art displayed itself at a very early period among the French, and they considered that the surest method of succeeding in this endeavor was to observe the strictest outward regularity of form, of which they derived their ideas more from Aristotle, and especially from Seneca, than from any intimate acquaintance with the Greek models themselves. Three of the most celebrated of the French tragic poets, Corneille, Racine, and Voltaire, have given, it would seem, an immutable shape to the tragic stage of France by adopting this system, which has been considered by the French critics universally as alone entitled to any authority, and who have viewed every deviation from it as a sin against good taste. The treatise of Aristotle, from which they have derived the idea of the far-famed three unities, of action, time, and place, which have given rise to so many critical wars, is a mere fragment, and some scholars have been of the opinion that it is not even a fragment of the true original, but of an extract which some person made for his own improvement. From this anxious observance of the Greek rules, under totally different circumstances, it is obvious that great inconveniences and incongruities must arise; and the criticism of the Academy on a tragedy of Corneille, "that the poet, from the fear of sinning against the rules of art, had chosen rather to sin against the rules of nature," is often applicable to the dramatic writers of France.

Corneille (1606-1684) ushered in a new era in the French drama. It has been said of him that he was a man greater in himself than in his works, his genius being fettered by the rules of the French drama and the conventional state of French verse. The day of mysteries and moralities was past, and the comedies of Hardy, the court poet of Henry IV., had, in their turn, been consigned to oblivion, yet there was an increasing taste for the drama. The first comedy of Corneille, "Mélite," was followed by many others, which, though now considered unreadable, were better than anything then known. The appearance of the "Cid," in 1635, a drama constructed on the foundation of the old Spanish romances, constituted an era in the dramatic history of France. Although not without great faults, resulting from strict adherence to the rules, it was the first time that the depths of passion had been stirred on the stage, and its success was unprecedented. For years after, his pieces followed each other in rapid succession, and the history of the stage was that of Corneille's works. In the "Cid," the triumph of love was exhibited; in "Les Horaces," love was represented as punished for its rebellion against the laws of honor; in "Cinna," all more tender considerations are sacrificed to the implacable duty of avenging a father; while in "Polyeucte," duty triumphs alone. Corneille did not boldly abandon himself to the guidance of his genius; he feared criticism, although he defied it. His success proved the signal for envy and detraction; he became angry at being obliged to fight his way, and therefore withdrew from the path in which he was likely to meet enemies. His decline was as rapid as his success had been brilliant. "The fall of the great Corneille," says Fontenelle, "may be reckoned as among the most remarkable examples of the vicissitudes of human affairs. Even that of Belisarius asking alms is not more striking." As his years increased, he became more anxious for popularity; having been so long in possession of undisputed superiority, he could not behold without dissatisfaction the rising glory of his successors; and, towards the close of his life, this weakness was greatly increased by the decay of his bodily organs.

5. PHILOSOPHY.—During this period, in a region far above court favor, Descartes (1596-1650) elaborated his system of philosophy, in creating a new method of philosophizing. The leading peculiarity of his system was the attempt to deduce all moral and religious truth from self- consciousness. I think, therefore I am, was the famous axiom on which the whole was built. From this he inferred the existence of two distinct natures in man, the mental and the physical, and the existence of certain ideas which he called innate in the mind, and serving to connect it with the spiritual and invisible. Besides these new views in metaphysics, Descartes made valuable contributions to mathematical and physical science; and though his philosophy is now generally discarded, it is not forgotten that he opened the way for Locke, Newton, and Leibnitz, and that his system was in reality the base of all those that superseded it. There is scarcely a name on record, the bearer of which has given a greater impulse to mathematical and philosophical inquiry than Descartes, and he embodied his thoughts in such masterly language, that it has been justly said of him, that his fame as a writer would have been greater if his celebrity as a thinker had been less.

The age of Descartes was an interesting era in the annals of the human mind. The darkness of scholastic philosophy was gradually clearing away before the light which an improved method of study was shedding over the natural sciences. A system of philosophy, founded on observation, was preparing the downfall of those traditional errors which had long held the mastery in the schools. Geometricians, physicians, and astronomers taught, by their example, the severe process of reasoning which was to regenerate all the sciences; and minds of the first order, scattered in various parts of Europe, communicated to each other the results of their labors, and stimulated each other to new exertions.

One of the most eminent contemporaries of Descartes was Pascal (1628- 1662). At the age of sixteen he wrote a treatise on conic sections, which was followed by several important discoveries in arithmetic and geometry. His experiments in natural science added to his fame, and he was recognized as one of the most eminent geometricians of modern times. But he soon formed the design of abandoning science for pursuits exclusively religious, and circumstances arose which became the occasion of those "Provincial Letters," which, with the "Pensées de la Religion," are considered among the finest specimens of French literature.

The abbey of Port Royal occupied a lonely situation about six leagues from Paris. Its internal discipline had recently undergone a thorough reformation, and the abbey rose to such a high reputation, that men of piety and learning took up their abode in its vicinity, to enjoy literary leisure. The establishment received pupils, and its system of education became celebrated in a religious and intellectual point of view. The great rivals of the Port Royalists were the Jesuits. Pascal, though not a member of the establishment, was a frequent visitor, and one of his friends there, having been drawn into a controversy with the Sorbonne on the doctrines of the Jansenists, had recourse to his aid in replying. Pascal published a series of letters in a dramatic form, in which he brought his adversaries on the stage with himself, and fairly cut them up for the public amusement. These letters, combining the comic pleasantry of Molière with the eloquence of Demosthenes, so elegant and attractive in style, and so clear and popular that a child might understand them, gained immediate attention; but the Jesuits, whose policy and doctrines they attacked, finally induced the parliament of Provence to condemn them to be burned by the common hangman; and the Port Royalists, refusing to renounce their opinions, were driven from their retreat, and the establishment broken up. Pascal's masterpiece is the "Pensées de la Religion;" it consists of fragments of thought, without apparent connection or unity of design. These thoughts are in some places obscure; they contain repetitions, and even contradictions, and require that arrangement that could only have been supplied by the hand of the writer. It has often been lamented that the author never constructed the edifice which it is believed he had designed, and of which these thoughts were the splendid materials.

6. THE RISE OF THE GOLDEN AGE OF FRENCH LITERATURE.—When Louis XIV. came to the throne (1638-1715), France was already subject to conditions certain to produce a brilliant period in literature. She had been brought into close relations with Spain and Italy, the countries then the most advanced in intellectual culture; and she had received from the study of the ancient masters the best correctives of whatever might have been extravagant in the national genius. She had learned some useful lessons from the polemical distractions of the sixteenth century. The religious earnestness excited by controversy was gratified by preachers of high endowments, and the political ascendency of France, among the kingdoms of Europe, imparted a general freedom and buoyancy. But of all the influences which contributed to perfect the literature of France in the latter half of the seventeenth century, none was so powerful as that of the monarch himself, who, by his personal power, rendered his court a centre of knowledge, and, by his government, imparted a feeling of security to those who lived under it. The predominance of the sovereign became the most prominent feature in the social character of the age, and the whole circle of the literature bears its impress. Louis elevated and improved, in no small degree, the position of literary men, by granting pensions to some, while he raised others to high offices of state; or they were recompensed by the public, through the general taste, which the monarch so largely contributed to diffuse.

The age, unlike that which followed it, was one of order and specialty in literature; and in classifying its literary riches, we shall find the principal authors presenting themselves under the different subjects: Racine with tragedy, Molière with comedy, Boileau with satirical and mock- heroic, La Fontaine with narrative poetry, Bossuet, Bourdaloue, and Massillon with pulpit eloquence; Patru, Pellisson, and some others with that of the bar; Bossuet, de Retz, and St. Simon with history and memoirs; Rochefoucauld and La Bruyère with moral philosophy; Fénelon and Madame de Lafayette with romance; and Madame de Sévigné with letter-writing.

The personal influence of the king was most marked on pulpit eloquence and dramatic poetry. Other branches found less favor, from his dislike to those who chiefly treated them. The recollections of the Fronde had left in his mind a distrust of Rochefoucauld. A similar feeling of political jealousy, with a thorough hatred of bel esprit, especially in a woman, prevented him from appreciating Madame de Sévigné; and he seems not even to have observed La Bruyère, in his modest functions as teacher of history to the Duke of Burgundy. He had no taste for the pure mental speculations of Malebranche or Fénelon; and in metaphysics, as in religion, had little patience for what was beyond the good sense of ordinary individuals. The same hatred of excess rendered him equally the enemy of refiners and free- thinkers, so that the like exile fell to the lot of Arnauld and Bayle, the one carrying to the extreme the doctrines of grace, and the other those of skeptical inquiry. Nor did he relish the excessive simplicity of La Fontaine, or deem that his talent was a sufficient compensation for his slovenly manners and inaptitude for court life. Of all these writers it may be said, that they flourished rather in spite of the personal influence of the monarch than under his favor.

7. TRAGEDY.—The first dramas of Racine (1639-1699) were but feeble imitations of Corneille, who advised the young author to attempt no more tragedy. He replied by producing "Andromaque," which had a most powerful effect upon the stage. The poet had discovered that sympathy was a more powerful source of tragic effect than admiration, and he accordingly employed the powers of his genius in a truthful expression of feeling and character, and a thrilling alternation of hope and fear, anger and pity. "Andromaque" was followed almost every year by a work of similar character. Henrietta of England induced Corneille and Racine, unknown to each other, to produce a tragedy on Berenice, in order to contrast the powers of these illustrious rivals. They were represented in the year 1670; that of Corneille proved a failure, but Racine's was honored; by the tears of the court and the city. Soon after, partly disgusted at the intrigues against him, and partly from religious principle, Racine abandoned his career while yet in the full vigor of his life and genius. He was appointed historiographer to the king, conjointly with Boileau, and after twelve years of silence he was induced by Madame de Maintenon to compose the drama of "Esther" for the pupils in the Maison de St. Cyr, which met with prodigious success. "Athalie," considered the most perfect of his works, was composed with similar views; theatricals having been abandoned at the school, however, the play was published, but found no readers. Discouraged by this second injustice, Racine finally abandoned the drama. "Athalie" was but little known till the year 1716, since when its reputation has considerably augmented. Voltaire pronounced it the most perfect work of human genius. The subject of this drama is taken from the twenty-second and twenty-third chapter of II. Chronicles, where it is written that Athaliah, to avenge the death of her son, destroyed all the seed royal of the house of Judah, but that the young Joash was stolen from among the rest by his aunt Jehoshabeath, the wife of the high-priest, and hidden with his nurse for six years in the temple. Besides numerous tragedies, Racine composed odes, epigrams, and spiritual songs. By a rare combination of talents he wrote as well in prose as in verse. His "History of the Reign of Louis XIV." was destroyed by a conflagration, but there remain the "History of Port Royal," some pleasing letters, and some academic discourses. The tragedies of Racine are more elegant than those of Corneille, though less bold and striking. Corneille's principal characters are heroes and heroines thrown into situations of extremity, and displaying strength of mind superior to their position. Racine's characters are men, not heroes,—men such as they are, not such as they might possibly be.

France produced no other tragic dramatists of the first class in this age.
Somewhat later, Crébillon (1674-1762), in such wild tragedies as "Atrea,"
"Electra," and "Rhadamiste," introduced a new element, that of terror, as
a source of tragic effect.

Cardinal Mazarin had brought from Italy the opera or lyric tragedy, which was cultivated with success by Quinault (1637-1688). He is said to have taken the bones out of the French language by cultivating an art in which thought, incident, and dialogue are made secondary to the development of tender and voluptuous feeling.

8. COMEDY.—The comic drama, which occupied the French stage till the middle of the seventeenth century, was the comedy of intrigue, borrowed from Spain, and turning on disguises, dark lanterns, and trap-doors to help or hinder the design of personages who were types, not of individual character, but of classes, as doctors, lawyers, lovers, and confidants. It was reserved for Molière (1622-1673) to demolish all this childishness, and enthrone the true Thalia on the French stage. Like Shakspeare, he was both an author and an actor. The appearance of the "Précieuses Ridicules" was the first of the comedies in which the gifted poet assailed the follies of his age. The object of this satire was the system of solemn sentimentality which at this time was considered the perfection of elegance. It will be remembered that there existed at Paris a coterie of fashionable women who pretended to the most exalted refinement both of feeling and expression, and that these were waited upon and worshiped by a set of nobles and littérateurs, who used towards them a peculiar strain of high-flown, pedantic gallantry. These ladies adopted fictitious names for themselves and gave enigmatical ones to the commonest things. They lavished upon each other the most tender appellations, as though in contrast to the frigid tone in which the Platonism of the Hotel required them to address the gentlemen of their circle. Ma chère, ma précieuse, were the terms most frequently used by the leaders of this world of folly, and a précieuse came to be synonymous with a lady of the clique; hence the title of the comedy. The piece was received with unanimous applause; a more signal victory could not have been gained by a comic poet, and from the time of its first representation this bombastic nonsense was given up. Molière, perceiving that he had struck the true vein, resolved to study human nature more and Plautus and Terence less. Comedy after comedy followed, which were true pictures of the follies of society; but whatever was the theme of his satire, all proved that he had a falcon's eye for detecting vice and folly in every shape, and talons for pouncing upon all as the natural prey of the satirist. On the boards he always took the principal character himself, and he was a comedian in every look and gesture. The "Malade Imaginaire" was the last of his works. When it was produced upon the stage, the poet himself was really ill, but repressing the voice of natural suffering, to affect that of the hypochondriac for public amusement, he was seized with a convulsive cough, and carried home dying. Though he was denied the last offices of the church, and his remains were with difficulty allowed Christian burial, in the following century his bust was placed in the Academy, and a monument erected to his memory in the cemetery of Père la Chaise. The best of Molière's works are, "Le Misanthrope," "Les Femmes Savantes," and "Tartuffe;" these are considered models of high comedy. Other comedians followed, but at a great distance from him in point of merit.

9. FABLE, SATIRE, MOCK-HEROIC, AND OTHER POETRY.—La Fontaine (1621-1695) was the prince of fabulists; his fables appeared successively in three collections, and although the subjects of some of these are borrowed, the dress is entirely new. His versification constitutes one of the greatest charms of his poetry, and seems to have been the result of an instinctive sense of harmony, a delicate taste, and rapidity of invention. There are few authors in France more popular, none so much the familiar genius of every fireside. La Fontaine himself was a mere child of nature, indolent, and led by the whim of the moment, rather than by any fixed principle. He was desired by his father to take charge of the domain of which he was the keeper, and to unite himself in marriage with a family relative. With unthinking docility he consented to both, but neglected alike his official duties and domestic obligations with an innocent unconsciousness of wrong. He was taken to Paris by the Duchess of Bouillon and passed his days in her coteries, and those of Racine and Boileau, utterly forgetful of his home and family, except when his pecuniary necessities obliged him to return to sell portions of his property to supply his wants. When this was exhausted, he became dependent on the kindness of female discerners of merit. Henrietta of England attached him to her suite; and after her death, Madame de la Sablière gave him apartments at her house, supplied his wants, and indulged his humors for twenty years. When she retired to a convent, Madame d'Hervart, the wife of a rich financier, offered him a similar retreat. While on her way to make the proposal, she met him in the street, and said, "La Fontaine, will you come and live in my house?" "I was just going, madame," he replied, as if his doing so had been the simplest and most natural thing in the world. And here he remained the rest of his days. France has produced numerous writers of fables since the time of La Fontaine, but none worthy of comparison with him.

The writings of Descartes and Pascal, with the precepts of the Academy and Port Royal, had established the art of prose composition, but the destiny of poetry continued doubtful. Corneille's masterpieces afforded models only in one department; there was no specific doctrine on the idea of what poetry ought to be. To supply this was the mission of Boileau (1636-1711); and he fulfilled it, first by satirizing the existing style, and then by composing an "Art of Poetry," after the manner of Horace. In the midst of men who made verses for the sake of making them, and composed languishing love-songs upon the perfections of mistresses who never existed except in their own imaginations, Boileau determined to write nothing but what interested his feelings, to break with this affected gallantry, and draw poetry only from the depths of his own heart. His début was made in unmerciful satires on the works of the poetasters, and he continued to plead the cause of reason against rhyme, of true poetry against false. Despite the anger of the poets and their friends, his satires enjoyed immense favor, and he consolidated his victory by writing the "Art of Poetry," in which he attempted to restore it to its true dignity. This work obtained for him the title of Legislator of Parnassus. The mock- heroic poem of the "Lutrin" is considered as the happiest effort of his muse, though inferior to the "Rape of the Lock," a composition of a similar kind. The occasion of this poem was a frivolous dispute between the treasurer and the chapter of a cathedral concerning the placing of a reading-desk (lutrin). A friend playfully challenged Boileau to write a heroic poem on the subject, to verify his own theory that the excellence of a heroic poem depended upon the power of the inventor to sustain and enlarge upon a slender groundwork. Boileau was the last of the great poets of the golden age.

The horizon of the poets was at this time somewhat circumscribed. Confined to the conventional life of the court and the city, they enjoyed little opportunity for the contemplation of nature. The policy of Louis XIV. proscribed national recollections, so that the social life of the day was alone open to them. Poetry thus became abstract and ideal, or limited to the delineation of those passions which belong to a highly artificial state of society. Madame Deshoulières (1634-1694) indeed wrote some graceful idyls, but she by no means entered into the spirit of rural life and manners, like La Fontaine.

10. ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT AND OF THE BAR.—Louis XIV. afforded to religious eloquence the most efficacious kind of encouragement, that of personal attendance. The court preachers had no more attentive auditor than their royal master, who was singularly gifted with that tenderness of conscience which leads a man to condemn himself for his sins, yet indulge in their commission; to feel a certain pleasure in self-accusation, and to enjoy that reaction of mind which consists in occasionally holding his passions in abeyance. This attention on the part of a great monarch, the liberty of saying everything, the refined taste of the audience, who could on the same day attend a sermon of Bourdaloue and a tragedy of Racine, all tended to lead pulpit eloquence to a high degree of perfection; and, accordingly, we find the function of court preacher exercised successively by Bossuet (1627-1704), Bourdaloue (1632-1704), and Massillon (1663-1742), the greatest names that the Roman Catholic Church has boasted in any age or country. Bossuet addressed the conscience through the imagination, Bourdaloue through the judgment, and Massillon through the feelings. Fléchier (1632-1710), another court preacher, renowned chiefly as a rhetorician, was not free from the affectation of Les Précieuses; but Bossuet was perhaps the most distinguished type of the age of Louis XIV., in all save its vices. For the instruction of the Dauphin, to whom he had been appointed preceptor, he wrote his "Discourse upon Universal History," by which he is chiefly known to us. The Protestant controversy elicited his famous "Exposition of the Catholic Doctrine." A still more celebrated work is the "History of the Variations," the leading principle of which is, that to forsake the authority of the church leads one knows not whither, that there can be no new religious views except false ones, and that there can be no escape from the faith transmitted from age to age, save in the wastes of skepticism. In his controversy with Fénelon, in relation to the mystical doctrines of Madame Guyon, Bossuet showed himself irritated, and at last furious, at the moderate and submissive tone of his opponent. He procured the banishment of Fénelon from court, and the disgrace of his friends; and through his influence the pope condemned the "Maxims of the Saints," in which Fénelon endeavored to show that the views of Madame Guyon were those of others whom the church had canonized. The sermons of Bossuet were paternal and familiar exhortations; he seldom prepared them, but, abandoning himself to the inspiration of the moment, was now simple and touching, now energetic and sublime, His familiarity with the language of inspiration imparted to his discourses a tone of almost prophetic authority; his eloquence appeared as a native instinct, a gift direct from heaven, neither marred nor improved by the study of human rules. France does not acknowledge the Protestant Saurin (1677-1730), as the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes expatriated him in childhood; but his sermons occupy a distinguished place in the theological literature of the French language.

Political or parliamentary oratory was as yet unknown, for the parliament no sooner touched on matters of state and government, than Louis XIV entered, booted and spurred, with whip in hand, and not figuratively, but literally, lashed the refractory assembly into silence and obedience. But the eloquence of the bar enjoyed a considerable degree of freedom in this age. Law and reason, however, were too often overlaid by worthless conceits and a fantastic abuse of classic and scriptural citations. Le Maitre (1608-1658), Patru (1604-1681), Pellisson (1624-1693), Cochin (1687-1749), and D'Aguesseau (1668-1751), successively purified and elevated the language of the tribunals.

11. MORAL PHILOSOPHY.—The most celebrated moralist of the age was the Duke de Rochefoucauld (1613-1680). He was early drawn into those conflicts known as the wars of the Fronde, though he seems to have had little motive for fighting or intriguing, except his restlessness of spirit and his attachment to the Duchess de Longueville. He soon quarreled with the duchess, dissolved his alliance with Condé, and being afterwards included in the amnesty, he took up his residence at Paris, where he was one of the brightest ornaments of the court of Louis XIV. His chosen friends, in his declining years, were Madame de Sévigné, one of the most accomplished women of the age, and Madame de Lafayette, who said of him, "He gave me intellect, and I reformed his heart." But if the taint was removed from his heart, it continued in the understanding. His famous "Maxims," published in 1665, gained for the author a lasting reputation, not less for the perfection of his style, than for the boldness of his paradoxes. The leading peculiarity of this work is the principle that self-interest is the ruling motive in human nature, placing every virtue, as well as every vice, under contribution to itself. It is generally agreed that Rochefoucauld's views of human nature were perverted by the specimens of it which he had known in the wars of the Fronde, which were stimulated by vice, folly, and a restless desire of power. His "Memoirs of the Reign of Anne of Austria" embody the story of the Fronde, and his "Maxims" the moral philosophy he deduced from it.

While Pascal, in proving all human remedies unworthy of confidence, had sought to drive men upon faith by pursuing them with despair, and Rochefoucauld, by his pitiless analysis of the disguises of the human heart, led his readers to suspect their most natural emotions, and well- nigh took away the desire of virtue by proving its impossibility, La Bruyère (1639-1696) endeavored to make the most of our nature, such as it is, to render men better, even with their imperfections, to assist them by a moral code suited to their strength, or rather to their weakness. His "Characters of our Age" is distinguished for the exactness and variety of the portraits, as well as for the excellence of its style. The philosophy of La Bruyère is unquestionably based on reason, and not on revelation.

In the moral works of Nicole, the Port Royalist (1611-1645), we find a system of truly Christian ethics, derived from the precepts of revelation; they are elegant in style, though they display little originality.

The only speculative philosopher of this age, worthy of mention, is Malebranche (1631-1715), a disciple of Descartes; but, unlike his master, instead of admitting innate ideas, he held that we see all in Deity, and that it is only by our spiritual union with the Being who knows all things that we know anything. He professed optimism, and explained the existence of evil by saying that the Deity acts only as a universal cause. His object was to reconcile philosophy with revelation; his works, though models of style, are now little read.

12. HISTORY AND MEMOIRS.—History attained no degree of excellence during this period. Bossuet's "Discourse on Universal History" was a sermon, with general history as the text. At a somewhat earlier date, Mézeray (1610- 1683) compiled a history of France. The style is clear and nervous, and the spirit which pervades it is bold and independent, but the facts are not always to be relied on. The "History of Christianity," by the Abbé Fleury (1640-1723), was pronounced by Voltaire to be the best work of the kind that had ever appeared. Rollin (1661-1741) devoted his declining years to the composition of historical works for the instruction of young people. His "Ancient History" is more remarkable for the excellence of his intentions than for the display of historical talent. Indeed, the historical writers of this period may be said to have marked, rather than filled a void.

The writers of memoirs were more happy. At an earlier period, Brantôme (1527-1614), a gentleman attached to the suite of Charles IX. and Henry III., employed his declining years in describing men and manners as he had observed them; and his memoirs are admitted to embody but too faithfully a representation of that singular mixture of elegance and grossness, of superstition and impiety, of chivalrous feelings and licentious morals, which characterized the sixteenth century. The Duke of Sully (1559-1641), the skillful financier of Henry IV., left valuable memoirs of the stirring events of his day. The "Memoirs" of the Cardinal de Betz (1614-1679), who took so active a part in the agitations of the Fronde, embody the enlarged views of the true historian, and breathe the impetuous spirit of a man whose native element is civil commotion, and who looks on the chieftainship of a party as worthy to engage the best powers of his head and heart; but his style abounds with negligences and irregularities which would have shocked the littérateurs of the day.

The Duke de St. Simon (1675-1755) is another of those who made no pretensions to classical writing. All the styles of the seventeenth century are found in him. His language has been compared to a torrent, which appears somewhat incumbered by the debris which it carries, yet makes its way with no less rapidity.

Count Hamilton (1646-1720) narrates the adventures of his brother-in-law, Count de Grammont, of which La Harpe says, "Of all frivolous books, it is the most diverting and ingenious." Much lively narration is here expended on incidents better forgotten.

13. ROMANCE AND LETTER-WRITING.—The growth of kingly power, the order which it established, and the civilization which followed in its train, restrained the development of public life and increased the interests of the social relations. From this new state of things arose a modified kind of romance, in which elevated sentiments replaced the achievements of mediaeval fiction and the military exploits of Mademoiselle de Scudery's tales. Madame de Lafayette introduced that kind of romance in which the absorbing interest is that of conflicting passion, and external events were the occasion of developing the inward life of thought and feeling. She first depicted manners as they really were, relating natural events with gracefulness, instead of narrating those that never could have had existence.

The illustrious Fénelon (1651-1715) was one of the few authors of this period who belonged exclusively to no one class. He appears as a divine in his "Sermons" and "Maxims;" as a rhetorician in his "Dialogues on Eloquence;" as a moralist in his "Education of Girls;" as a politician in his "Examination of the Conscience of a King;" and it may be said that all these characters are combined in "Telemachus," which has procured for him a widespread fame, and which classes him among the romancers. Telemachus was composed with the intention of its becoming a manual for his pupil, the young Duke of Burgundy, on his entrance into manhood. Though its publication caused him the loss of the king's favor, it went through numerous editions, and was translated into every language of Europe. It was considered, in its day, a manual for kings, and it became a standard book, on account of the elegance of its style, the purity of its morals, and the classic taste it was likely to foster in the youthful mind.

Madame de Sévigné made no pretensions to authorship. Her letters were written to her daughter, without the slightest idea that they would be read, except by those to whom they were addressed; but they have immortalized their gifted author, and have been pronounced worthy to occupy an eminent place among the classics of French literature. The matter which these celebrated letters contain is multifarious; they are sketches of Madame de Sévigné's friends, Madame de Lafayette, Madame Scarron, and all the principal personages of that brilliant court, from which, however, she was excluded, in consequence of her early alliance with the Fronde, her friendship for Fouquet, and her Jansenist opinions. All the occurrences, as well as the characters of the day, are touched in these letters; and so graphic is the pen, so clear and easy the style, that we seem to live in those brilliant days, and to see all that was going on. Great events are detailed in the same tone as court gossip; Louis XIV., Turenne, Condé, the wars of France and of the empire are freely mingled with details of housewifery, projects of marriage,—in short, the seventeenth century is depicted in the correspondence of two women who knew nothing so important as their own affairs.

Considerable interest attaches also to the letters of Madame de Maintenon (1635-1719), a lady whose life presents singular contrasts, worthy of the time. To her influence on the king, after her private marriage to him, is attributed much that is inauspicious in the latter part of his reign, the combination of ascetic devotion and religious bigotry with the most flagrant immorality, the appointment of unskillful generals and weak- minded ministers, the persecution of the Jansenists, and, above all, the revocation of the Edict of Nantes, which had secured religious freedom to the Protestants.

PERIOD THIRD.

LITERATURE OF THE AGE OF THE REVOLUTION AND OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY (1700-1885).

1. THE DAWN OF SKEPTICISM.—In the age just past we have seen religion, antiquity, and the monarchy of Louis XIV., each exercising a distinct and powerful influence over the buoyancy of French genius, which cheerfully submitted to their restraining power. A school of taste and elegance had been formed, under these circumstances, which gave law to the rest of Europe and constituted France the leading spirit of the age. On the other hand, the dominant influences of the eighteenth century were a skeptical philosophy, a preference for modern literature, and a rage for political reform. The transition, however, was not sudden nor immediate, and we come now to the consideration of those works which occupy the midway position between the submissive age of Louis XIV. and the daring infidelity and republicanism of the eighteenth century.

The eighteenth century began with the first timid protestation against the splendid monarchy of Louis XIV., the domination of the Catholic Church, and the classical authority of antiquity, and it ended when words came to deeds, in the sanguinary revolution of 1789. When the first generation of great men who sunned themselves in the glance of Louis XIV. had passed away, there were none to succeed them; the glory of the monarch began to fade as the noble cortège disappeared, and admiration and enthusiasm were no more. The new generation, which had not shared the glory and prosperity of the old monarch, was not subjugated by the recollections of his early splendor, and was not, like the preceding, proud to wear his yoke. A certain indifference to principle began to prevail; men ventured to doubt opinions once unquestioned; the habit of jesting with everything and unblushing cynicism appeared almost under the eyes of the aged Louis; even Massillon, who exhorted the people to obedience, at the same time reminded the king that it was necessary to merit it by respecting their rights. The Protestants, exiled by the revocation of the Edict of Nantes, revenged themselves by pamphlets against the monarch and the church, and these works found their way into France, and fostered there the rising discontent and contempt for the authority of the government.

Among these refugees was Bayle (1647-1706), the coolest and boldest of doubters. He wrote openly against the intolerance of Louis XIV., and he affords the first announcement of the characteristics of the century. His "Historical and Critical Dictionary," a vast magazine of knowledge and incredulity, was calculated to supersede the necessity of study to a lively and thoughtless age. His skepticism is learned and philosophical, and he ridicules those who reject without examination still more than those who believe with docile credulity. Jean Baptiste Rousseau (1670- 1741), the lyric poet of this age, displayed in his odes considerable energy, and a kind of pompous harmony, which no other had imparted to the language, yet he fails to excite the sympathy. In his writings we find that free commingling of licentious morals with a taste for religious sublimities which characterized the last years of Louis XIV. The Abbé Chaulieu (1639-1720) earned the appellation of the Anacreon of the Temple, but he did not, like Rousseau, prostitute poetry in strains of low debauchery.

The tragedians followed in the footsteps of Racine with more or less success, and comedy continued, with some vigor, to represent the corrupt manners of the age. Le Sage (1668-1747) applied his talent to romance; and, like Molière, appreciated human folly without analyzing it. "Gil Blas" is a picture of the human heart under the aspect at once of the vicious and the ridiculous.

Fontenelle (1657-1757), a nephew of the great Corneille, is regarded as the link between the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, he having witnessed the splendor of the best days of Louis XIV., and lived long enough to see the greatest men of the eighteenth century. He made his début in tragedy, in which, however, he found little encouragement. In his "Plurality of Worlds," and "Dialogues of the Dead," there is much that indicates the man of science. His other works are valued rather for their delicacy and impartiality than for striking originality.

Lamotte (1672-1731) was more distinguished in criticism than in any other sphere of authorship. He raised the standard of revolt against the worship of antiquity, and would have dethroned poetry itself on the ground of its inutility. Thus skepticism began by making established literary doctrines matters of doubt and controversy. Before attacking more serious creeds it fastened on literary ones.

Such is the picture presented by the earlier part of the eighteenth century. Part of the generation had remained attached to the traditions of the great age. Others opened the path into which the whole country was about to throw itself. The faith of the nation in its political institutions, its religious and literary creed, was shaken to its foundation; the positive and palpable began to engross every interest hitherto occupied by the ideal; and this disposition, so favorable to the cultivation of science, brought with it a universal spirit of criticism. The habit of reflecting was generally diffused, people were not afraid to exercise their own judgment, every man had begun to have a higher estimate of his own opinions, and to care less for those hitherto received as undoubted authority. Still, literature had not taken any positive direction, nor had there yet appeared men of sufficiently powerful genius to give it a decisive impulse.

2. PROGRESS OF SKEPTICISM.—The first powerful attack on the manners, institutions, and establishments of France, and indeed of Europe in general, is that contained in the "Persian Letters" of the Baron de Montesquieu (1689-1755); in which, under the transparent veil of pleasantries aimed at the Moslem religion, he sought to consign to ridicule the belief in every species of dogma. But the celebrity of Montesquieu is founded on his "Spirit of Laws," the greatest monument of human genius in the eighteenth century. It is a profound analysis of law in its relation with government, customs, climate, religion, and commerce. The book is inspired with a spirit of justice and humanity; but it places the mind too much under the dominion of matter, and argues for necessity rather than liberty, thus depriving moral obligation of much of its absolute character. It is an extraordinary specimen of argument, terseness, and erudition.

The maturity of the eighteenth century is found in Voltaire (1694-1778); he was the personification of its rashness, its zeal, its derision, its ardor, and its universality. In him nature had, so to speak, identified the individual with the nation, bestowing on him a character in the highest degree elastic, having lively sensibility but no depth of passion, little system of principle or conduct, but that promptitude of self- direction which supplies its place, a quickness of perception amounting almost to intuition, and an unexampled degree of activity, by which he was in some sort many men at once. No writer, even in the eighteenth century, knew so many things or treated so many subjects. That which was the ruin of some minds was the strength of his. Rich in diversified talent and in the gifts of fortune, he proceeded to the conquest of his age with the combined power of the highest endowments under the most favorable circumstances. He was driven again and again, as a moral pest, from the capital of France by the powers that fain would have preserved the people from his opinions, yet ever gaining ground, his wit always welcome, and his opinions gradually prevailing, one audacious sentiment after another broached, and branded with infamy, yet secretly entertained, till the futile struggle was at length given in, and the nation, as with one voice, avowed itself his disciple.

It has been said that Voltaire showed symptoms of infidelity from infancy. When at college he gave way to sallies of wit, mirth, and profanity which astonished his companions and terrified his preceptors. He was twice imprisoned in the Bastile, and many times obliged to fly from the country. In England he became acquainted with Bolingbroke and all the most distinguished men of the time, and in the school of English philosophy he learned to use argument, as well as ridicule, in his war with religion. In 1740 we find him assisting Frederick the Great to get up a refutation of Machiavelli; again, he is appointed historiographer of France, Gentleman of the Bed-chamber, and Member of the Academy; then he accepts an invitation to reside at the Court of Prussia, where he soon quarrels with the king. After many vicissitudes he finally purchased the estate of Ferney, near the Lake of Geneva, where he resided during the rest of his days. From this retreat he poured out an exhaustless variety of books, which were extensively circulated and eagerly perused. He had the admiration of all the wits and philosophers of Europe, and included among his pupils and correspondents some of the greatest sovereigns of the age. At the age of eighty-four he again visited Paris. Here his levees were more crowded than those of any emperor; princes and peers thronged his ante-chamber, and when he rode through the streets a train attended him which stretched far over the city. He was made president of the Academy, and crowned with laurel at the theatre, where his bust was placed on the stage and adorned with palms and garlands. He died soon after, without the rites of the church, and was interred secretly at a Benedictine abbey.

The national enthusiasm which decreed Voltaire, as he descended to the tomb, such a triumph as might have honored a benefactor of the race, gave place to doubt and disputation as to his merits. In tragedy he is admitted to rank after Corneille and Racine; in "Zaïre," which is his masterpiece, there is neither the lofty conception of the one, nor the perfect versification of the other, but there is a warmth of passion, an enthusiasm of feeling, and a gracefulness of expression which fascinate and subdue. As an epic poet he has least sustained his renown; though the "Henriade" has unquestionably some great beauties, its machinery is tame, and the want of poetic illusion is severely felt. His poetry, especially that of his later years, is by no means so disgraceful to the author as the witticisms in prose, the tales, dialogues, romances, and pasquinades which were eagerly sought for and readily furnished, and which are, with little exception, totally unworthy of an honorable man. As a historian, Voltaire lacked reflection and patience for investigation. His "History of Charles XII.," however, was deservedly successful; the reason being that he chose for his hero the most romantic and adventurous of sovereigns, to describe whom there was more need of rapid narrative and brilliant coloring than of profound knowledge and a just appreciation of human nature. In his history of the age of Louis XIV., Voltaire sought not only to present a picture, but a series of researches destined to instruct the memory and exercise the judgment. The English historians, imitating his mode, have surpassed him in erudition and philosophic impartiality. Still later, his own countrymen have carried this species of writing to a high degree of perfection. Throughout the "Essay on the Manners of Nations" we find traces of that hatred of religion which he openly cherished in the latter part of his life. The style, however, is pleasing, the facts well arranged, and the portraits traced with originality and vivacity.

Some have attributed to Voltaire the serious design of overturning the three great bases of society, religion, morality, and civil government, but he had not the genius of a philosopher, and there is no system of philosophy in his works. That he had a design to amuse and influence his age, and to avenge himself on his enemies, is obvious enough. Envy and hatred employed against him the weapons of religion, hence he viewed it only as an instrument of persecution. His great powers of mind were continually directed by the opinions of the times, and the desire of popularity was his ruling motive. The character of his earlier writings shows that he did not bring into the world a very independent spirit; they display the lightness and frivolity of the time with the submission of a courtier for every kind of authority, but as his success increased everything encouraged him to imbue his works with that spirit which found so general a welcome. In vain the authority of the civil government endeavored to arrest the impulse which was gaining strength from day to day; in vain this director of the public mind was imprisoned and exiled; the farther he advanced in his career and the more audaciously he propagated his views on religion and government, the more he was rewarded with the renown which he sought. Monarchs became his friends and his flatterers; opposition only increased his energy, and made him often forget moderation and good taste.

3. FRENCH LITERATURE DURING THE REVOLUTION.—The names of Voltaire and Montesquieu eclipse all others in the first half of the eighteenth century, but the influence of Voltaire was by far the most immediate and extensive. After he had reached the zenith of his glory, about the middle of the century, there appeared in France a display of various talent, evoked by his example and trained by his instructions, yet boasting an independent existence. In the works of these men was consummated the literary revolution of which we have marked the beginnings, a revolution more striking than any other ever witnessed in the same space of time. It was no longer a few eminent men that surrendered themselves boldly to the skeptical philosophy which is the grand characteristic of the eighteenth century; writers of inferior note followed in the same path; the new opinions took entire possession of all literature and cooperated with the state of the morals and the government to bring about a fearful revolution. The whole strength of the literature of this age being directed towards the subversion of the national institutions and religion, formed a homogeneous body of science, literature, and the arts, and a compact phalanx of all writers under the common name of philosophers. Women had their share in the maintenance of this league; the salons of Mesdames du Deffand (1696-1780), Geoffrin (b. 1777), and De l'Espinasse (1732-1776) were its favorite resorts; but the great rendezvous was that of the Baron d'Holbach, whence its doctrines spread far and wide, blasting, like a malaria, whatever it met with on its way that had any connection with religion, morals, or venerable social customs. Besides Voltaire, who presided over this coterie, at least in spirit, the daily company included Diderot, an enthusiast by nature and a cynic and sophist by profession; D'Alembert, a genius of the first order in mathematics, though less distinguished in literature; the malicious Marmontel, the philosopher Helvétius, the Abbé Raynal, the furious enemy of all modern institutions; the would-be sentimentalist Grimm, and D'Holbach himself. Hume, Gibbon, Bolingbroke, and others were affiliated members. Their plan was to write a book which would in some sense supersede all others, itself forming a library containing the most recent discoveries in philosophy, and the best explanations and details on every topic, literary and scientific.

The project of this great enterprise of an Encyclopaedia as an immense vehicle for the development of the opinions of the philosophers, alarmed the government, and the parliament and the clergy pronounced its condemnation. The philosophy of Descartes and the eminent thinkers of the seventeenth century assumed the soul of man as the starting-point in the investigation of physical science. The men of the eighteenth century had become tired of following out the sublimities and abstractions of the Cartesians, and they took the opposite course; beginning from sensation, they did not stop short of the grossest materialism and positive atheism.

Such were the principles of the Encyclopaedia, more fully developed and explained in the writings of Condillac (1715-1780), the head of this school of philosophy. His first work, "On the Origin of Human Knowledge," contains the germ of all that he afterwards published. In his "Treatise on Sensation," he endeavored, but in vain, to derive the notion of duty from sensation, and expert as he was in logic, he could not conceal the great gulf which his theory left between these two terms. Few writers have enjoyed more success; he brought the science of thought within the reach of the vulgar by stripping it of everything elevated, and every one was surprised and delighted to find that philosophy was so easy a thing. Having determined not to establish morality on any innate principles of the soul, these philosophers founded it on the fact common to all animated nature, the feeling of self-interest. Already deism had rejected the evidence of a divine revelation. Now atheism raised a more audacious front, and proclaimed that all religious sentiment was but the reverie of a disordered mind. The works in which this opinion is most expressly announced, date from the period of the Encyclopaedia.

D'Alembert (1717-1773) is now chiefly known as the author of the preliminary discourse of the Encyclopaedia, which is ranked among the principal works of the age.

Diderot (1714-1784), had he devoted himself to any one sphere, instead of wandering about in the chaos of opinions which rose and perished around him, might have left a lasting reputation, and posterity, instead of merely repeating his name, would have spoken of his works. He may be regarded as a writer injurious at once to literature and to morals.

The most faithful disciple of the philosophy of this period was Helvétius (1715-1771), known chiefly by his work, "On the Mind," the object of which is to prove that physical sensibility is the origin of all our thoughts. Of all the writers who maintained this opinion, none have represented it in so gross a manner. His work was condemned by the Sorbonne, the pope, and the parliament; it was burned by the hand of the hangman, and the author was compelled to retract it.

Jean Jacques Rousseau (1712-1778) was a writer who marched under none of the recognized banners of the day. The Encyclopaedists had flattered themselves that they had tuned the opinion of all Europe to their philosophical strain, when suddenly they heard his discordant note. Without family, without friends, without home, wandering from place to place, from one condition in life to another, he conceived a species of revolt against society, and a feeling of bitterness against those civil organizations in which he could never find a suitable place. He combated the atheism of the Encyclopaedists, their materialism and contempt for moral virtue, for pure deism was his creed. He believed in a Supreme Being, a future state, and the excellence of virtue, but denying all revealed religion, he would have men advance in the paths of virtue, freely and proudly, from love of virtue itself, and not from any sense of duty or obligation. In the "Social Contract" he traced the principles of government and laws in the nature of man, and endeavored to show the end which they proposed to themselves by living in communities, and the best means of attaining this end.

The two most notable works of Rousseau are "Julie," or the "Nouvelle Héloïse," and "Emile." The former is a kind of romance, owing its interest mainly to development of character, and not to incident or plot. Emile embodies a system of education in which the author's thoughts are digested and arranged. He gives himself an imaginary pupil, the representative of that life of spontaneous development which was the writer's ideal. In this work there is an episode, the "Savoyard Vicar's Confession of Faith," which is a declaration of pure deism, leveled especially against the errors of Catholicism. It raised a perfect tempest against the author from every quarter. The council of Geneva caused his book to be burned by the executioner, and the parliament of Paris threatened him with imprisonment. Under these circumstances he wrote his "Confessions," which he believed would vindicate him before the world. The reader, who may expect to find this book abounding with at least as much virtue as a man may possess without Christian principle, will find in it not a single feature of greatness; it is a proclamation of disagreeable faults; and yet he would persuade us that he was virtuous, by giving the clearest proofs that he was not.

To the names of Montesquieu, Voltaire, and Rousseau, must be added that of Buffon (1707-1788), and we have the four writers of this age who left all their contemporaries far behind. Buffon having been appointed superintendent of the Jardin des Plantes, and having enriched this fine establishment, and gathered into it, from all parts of the world, various productions of nature, conceived the project of composing a natural history, which should embrace the whole immensity of being, animate and inanimate. He first laid down the theory of the earth, then treated the natural history of man, afterwards that of viviparous quadrupeds and birds. The first volumes of his work appeared in 1749; the most important of the supplementary matter which followed was the "Epochs of Nature." He gave incredible attention to his style, and is one of the most brilliant writers of the eighteenth century. No naturalist has ever equaled him in the magnificence of his theories, or the animation of his descriptions of the manners and habits of animals. It is said that he wrote the "Epochs of Nature" eleven times over. He not only recited his compositions aloud, in order to judge of the rhythm and cadence, but he made a point of being in full dress before he sat down to write, believing that the splendor of his habiliments impressed his language with that pomp and elegance which he so much admired, and which is his distinguishing characteristic. Buffon, while maintaining friendship with the celebrated men of his age, did not identify himself with the party of the encyclopaedists, or the sects into which they were divided. But he lived among men who deemed physical nature alone worthy of study, and the wits of the age who had succeeded in discovering how a Supreme Being might be dispensed with. Buffon evaded the subject entirely, and amid all his lofty soarings showed no disposition to rise to the Great First Cause. After his time, science lost its contemplative and poetical character, and acquired that of intelligent observation. It became a practical thing, and entered into close alliance with the arts. The arts and sciences, thus combined, became the glory of France, as literature had been in the preceding age.

The declining years of Voltaire and Rousseau witnessed no rising genius of similar power, but some authors of a secondary rank deserve notice. Marmontel (1728-1799) is distinguished as the writer of "Belisarius," a philosophical romance, "Moral Tales," and "Elements of Literature." He endeavors to lead his readers to the enjoyments of literature, instead of detaining them with frigid criticisms.

La Harpe (1739-1803) displayed great eloquence in literary criticism, and some of his works maintain their place, though they have little claim to originality.

Many writers devoted themselves to history, but the spirit of French philosophy was uncongenial to this species of composition, and the age does not afford one remarkable historian. The fame of the Abbé Raynal (1718-1796) rests chiefly on his "History of the Two Indies." It is difficult to conceive how a sober man could have arrived at such delirium of opinion, and how he could so complacently exhibit principles which tended to overthrow the whole system of society. Scarcely a crime was committed during the revolution, with which this century closes, but could find its advocate in this declaimer. When, however, Raynal found himself in the midst of the turmoils he had suggested, he behaved with justice, moderation, and courage; thus proving that his opinions were not the result of experience.

The days of true religious eloquence were past; faith was extinct among the greater part of the community, and cold and timid among the rest. Preachers, in deference to their audience, kept out of view whatever was purely religious, and enlarged on those topics which coincided with mere human morality. Religion was introduced only as an accessory which it was necessary to disguise skillfully, in order to escape derision. Genuine pulpit eloquence was out of the question under these circumstances.

Forensic eloquence had been improving in simplicity and seriousness since the commencement of the eighteenth century, and men of the law were now led by the circumstances of the times to trace out universal principles, rather than to discuss isolated facts. The eloquence of the bar thus acquired more extensive influence; the measures of the government converted it into a hostile power, and it furnished itself with weapons of reason and erudition which had not been thought of before.

We come now close upon the epoch when the national spirit was no longer to be traced in books, but in actions. The reign of Louis XV. had been marked with general disorder, and while he was sinking into the grave, amid the scorn of the people, the magistrates were punished for opposing the royal authority, and the public were indignant at the arbitrary proceeding. Beaumarchais (1732-1799) became the organ of this feeling, and his memoirs, like his comedies, are replete with enthusiasm, cynicism, and buffoonery. Literature was never so popular; it was regarded as the universal and powerful instrument which it behooved every man to possess. All grades of society were filled with authors and philosophers; the public mind was tending towards some change, without knowing what it would have; from the monarch on the throne to the lowest of the people, all perceived the utter discordance that prevailed between existing opinions and existing institutions.

In the midst of the dull murmur which announced the approaching storm, literature, as though its work of agitation had been completed, took up the shepherd's reed for public amusement. "Posterity would scarcely believe," says an eminent historian, "that 'Paul and Virginia' and the 'Indian Cottage' were composed at this juncture by Bernardin de St, Pierre, (1737-1814), as also the 'Fables of Florian' which are the only ones that have been considered readable since those of La Fontaine." About the same time appeared the "Voyage of Anacharsis," in which the Abbé Barthélemy (1716-1795) embodied his erudition in an attractive form, presenting a lively picture of Greece in the time of Pericles.

Among the more moral writers of this age was Necker (1732-1804), the financial minister of Louis XVI., who maintained the cause of religion against the torrent of public opinion in works distinguished for delicacy and elevation, seriousness and elegance.

When the storm at length burst, the country was exposed to every kind of revolutionary tyranny. The first actors in the work of destruction were, for the most part, actuated by good intentions; but these were soon superseded by men of a lower class, envious of all distinctions of rank and deeply imbued with the spirit of the philosophers. Some derived, from the writings of Rousseau, a hatred of everything above them; others had taken from Mably his admiration of the ancient republics of Greece and Rome, and would reproduce them in France; others had borrowed from Raynal the revolutionary torch which he had lighted for the destruction of all institutions; others, educated in the atheistic fanaticism of Diderot, trembled with rage at the very name of a priest or religion; and thus the Revolution was gradually handed over to the guidance of passion and personal interest.

In hurrying past these years of anarchy and bloodshed, we cast a glance upon the poet, André Chénier (1762-1794), who dared to write against the excesses of his countrymen, in consequence of which he was cited before the revolutionary tribunal, condemned, and executed.

4. FRENCH LITERATURE UNDER THE EMPIRE.—Napoleon, on the establishment of the empire, gave great encouragement to the arts, but none to literature. Books were in little request; old editions were sold for a fraction of their original price; but new works were dear, because the demand for them was so limited. When literature again lifted its head, it appeared that in the chaos of events a new order of thought had been generated. The feelings of the people were for the freer forms of modern literature, introduced by Madame de Staël and Châteaubriand, rather than the ancient classics and the French models of the seventeenth century.

Madame de Staël (1766-1817) has been pronounced by the general voice to be among the greatest of all female authors. She was early introduced to the society of the cleverest men in Paris, with whom her father's house was a favorite resort; and before she was twelve years of age, such men as Raynal, Marmontel, and Grimm used to converse with her as though she were twenty, calling out her ready eloquence, inquiring into her studies, and recommending new books. She thus imbibed a taste for society and distinction, and for bearing her part in the brilliant conversation of the salon. At the age of twenty she became the wife of the Baron de Staël, the Swedish minister at Paris. On her return, after the Reign of Terror, Madame de Staël became the centre of a political society, and her drawing- rooms were the resort of distinguished foreigners, ambassadors, and authors. On the accession of Napoleon, a mutual hostility arose between him and this celebrated woman, which ended in her banishment and the suppression of her works.

"The Six Years of Exile" is the most simple and interesting of her productions. Her "Considerations on the French Revolution" is the most valuable of her political articles. Among her works of fiction, "Corinne" and "Delphine" have had the highest popularity. But of all her writings, that on "Germany" is considered worthy of the highest rank, and it was calculated to influence most beneficially the literature of her country, by opening to the rising generation of France unknown treasures of literature and philosophy. Writers like Delavigne, Lamartine, Béranger, De Vigny, and Victor Hugo, though in no respect imitators of Madame de Staël, are probably much indebted to her for the stimulus to originality which her writings afforded.

Another female author, who lived, like Madame de Staël through the
Revolution, and exercised an influence on public events, was Madame de
Genlis (1746-1830). Her works, which extend to at least eighty volumes,
are chiefly educational treatises, moral tales, and historical romances.
Her political power depended rather on her private influence in the
Orleans family than upon her pen.

Châteaubriand (1769-1848) must be placed side by side with Madame de Staël, as another of those brilliant and versatile geniuses who have dazzled the eyes of their countrymen, and exerted a permanent influence on French literature. While the eighteenth century had used against religion all the weapons of ridicule, he defended it by poetry and romance. Christianity he considered the most poetical of all religions, the most attractive, the most fertile in literary, social, and artistic results, and he develops his theme with every advantage of language and style in the "Genius of Christianity" and the "Martyrs." Some of the characteristics of Châteaubriand, however, have produced a seriously injurious effect on French literature, and of these the most contagious and corrupting is his passion for the glitter of words and the pageantry of high-sounding phrases.

The salutary reaction against skepticism, produced in literature by Madame de Staël and Châteaubriand was carried into philosophy by Maine de Biran (1766-1824), and more particularly by Royer-Collard (1763-1846) who took a decided stand against the school of Condillac and the materialists of the eighteenth century. Royer-Collard restored its spiritual character to the science of the human mind, by introducing into it the psychological discoveries of the Scotch school. Benjamin Constant (1767-1830) infused into political science a spirit of freedom before quite unknown. In his works he attempted to limit the authority of the government, to build up society on personal freedom, and on the guaranties of individual right. His writings combine extraordinary power of logic with great variety and beauty of style.

Proceeding in another direction, Bonald (1753-1846) opposed the spirit of the French Revolution, by establishing the authority of the church as the only criterion of truth and morality. As Rousseau had placed sovereign power in the will of the people, Bonald placed it in that of God, as it is manifested to man through language and revelation, and of this revelation he regarded the Catholic church as the interpreter. He develops his doctrines in numerous works, especially in his "Primitive Legislation," which is characterized by boldness, dogmatism, sophistry in argument, and by severity and purity of style.

The peculiarities of Bonald were carried still farther by De Maistre (1755-1852), whose hatred of the Revolution led him into the system of an absolute theocracy, such as was dreamed of by Gregory VII. and Innocent III.

5. FRENCH LITERATURE FROM THE RESTORATION TO THE PRESENT TIME.—The influences already spoken of, in connection with the literary progress which began in Germany and England towards the close of the eighteenth century, produced in the beginning of the nineteenth century a revival in French literature; but the conflict of opinions, the immense number of authors, and their extraordinary fecundity, render it difficult to examine or classify them. We first notice the great advances in history and biography. Among the earlier specimens may be mentioned the voluminous works of Sismondi and the "Biographie Universelle," in fifty-two closely printed volumes, the most valuable body of biography that any modern literature can boast. Since 1830, historians and literary critics have occupied the foreground in French literature. The historians have divided themselves into two schools, the descriptive and the philosophical. With the one class history consists of a narration of facts in connection with a picture of manners, bringing scenes of the past vividly before the mind of the reader, leaving him to deduce general truths from the particular ones brought before him. The style of these writers is simple and manly, and no opinions of their own shine through their statements. The chief representatives of this class, who regard Sir Walter Scott as their master, are Thierry, Villemain, Barante, and in historical sketches and novels, Dumas and De Vigny.

The philosophical school, on the other hand, consider this scenic narrative more suitable to romance than to history; they seek in the events of the past the chain of causes and effects in order to arrive at general conclusions which may direct the conduct of men in the future. At the head of this school is Guizot (1787-1876), who has developed his historical views in his essays on the "History of France," and more particularly in his "History of European Civilization," in which he points out the origin of modern civilization, and follows the progress of the human mind from the fall of the Roman Empire. The philosophical historians have been again divided according to their different theories, but the most eminent of them are those whom Châteaubriand calls fatalists; men who, having surveyed the course of public events, have come to the conclusion that individual character has had little influence on the political destinies of mankind, that there is a general and inevitable series of events which regularly succeed each other with the certainty of cause and effect, and that it is as easy to trace it as it is impossible to resist or divert it from its course. A tendency to these views is visible in almost every French historian and philosopher of the present time. The philosophy of history thus grounded has, in their hands, assumed the aspect of a science.

HISTORY.—Among the celebrated writers who have combined the philosophical and narrative styles are the brothers Amadée and Augustine Thierry (1787- 1873), (1795-1856), who produced a "History of the Gauls," of "The Norman Conquest," and other excellent works; Sismondi (1773-1842), whose history of the "Italian Republics" and of the "French People" are characterized by immense erudition; Thiers (1797-1877), whose clearness of style is combined with comprehensiveness and eloquence; Mignet (1796-1884), celebrated for his history of the French Revolution. The voluminous "History of France," by Henri Martin (1810-1884), is perhaps the best and most important work treating the whole subject in detail.

The downfall of the July Monarchy brought forth works of importance on this subject, the most noted of which are those by Lamartine, Michelet, and Louis Blanc. Lamartine's "History of the Girondins" was written from a constitutional and republican point of view, and was not without influence in producing the Revolution of 1848, but it is the work of an orator and poet rather than that of a historian. The historical and political works of Michelet (1778-1873) are of a more original character; his imaginative powers are of the highest order, and his style is striking and picturesque. The work of Louis Blanc (1813-1883) is that of a sincere and ardent republican, and is useful from that point of view, as is that of Quinet (1803-1875). Lanfrey places the character of Napoleon in a new and far from favorable light. Taine, so distinguished in literary criticism, has discussed elaborately the causes of the Revolution.

POETRY AND THE DRAMA; RISE OF THE ROMANTIC SCHOOL.—During the Middle Ages men of letters followed each other in the cultivation of certain literary forms, often with little regard to their adaptation to the subject. The vast extension of thought and knowledge in the sixteenth century broke up the old forms and introduced the practice of treating each subject in a manner more or less appropriate to it. The seventeenth and eighteenth centuries witnessed a return to the observance of arbitrary rules, though the evil effects were somewhat counterbalanced by the enlargement of thought and the increasing knowledge of other literature, ancient and modern. The great Romantic movement, which began in the second quarter of the nineteenth century, repeated on a larger scale the movement of the sixteenth to break up and discard many stiff and useless literary forms, to give strength and variety to such as were retained, and to enrich the language by new inventions and revivals. The supporters of this reform long maintained an animated controversy with the adherents of the classical school, and it was only after several years that the younger combatants came out victorious. The objects of the school were so violently opposed that the king was petitioned to forbid the admission of any Romantic drama at the Théâtre Français, the petitioners asserting that the object of their adversaries was to burn everything that had been adored and to adore everything that had been burned. The representation of Victor Hugo's "Hernani" was the culmination of the struggle, and since that time all the greatest men of letters in France have been on the innovating side. In belles-lettres and history the result has been most remarkable. Obsolete rules which had so long regulated the French stage have been abolished; poetry not dramatic has been revived; prose romance and literary criticism have been brought to a degree of perfection previously unknown; and in history more various and remarkable works have been produced than ever before, while the modern French language, if it lacks the precision and elegance to which from 1680 to 1800 all else had been sacrificed, has become a much more suitable instrument for the accurate and copious treatment of scientific subjects. At the time of the accession of Charles X. (1824), the only writers of eminence were Béranger (1780-1857), Lamartine (1790-1869), and Lamennais (1782-1854), and they mark the transition between the old and new. Béranger was the poet of the people; most of his earlier compositions were political, extolling the greatness of the fallen empire or bewailing the low state of France under the restored dynasty. They were received with enthusiasm and sung from one end of the country to the other. His later songs exhibit a not unpleasing change from the audacious and too often licentious tone of his earlier days. In the hands of Lamartine the language, softened and harmonized, loses that clear epigrammatic expression which, before him, had appeared inseparable from French poetry. His works are pervaded by an earnest religious feeling and a rare delicacy of expression. "Jocelyn," a romance in verse, the "Meditations," and "Harmonies" are among his best works.

Victor Hugo (b. 1800) at the age of twenty-five was the acknowledged master in poetry as in the drama, and this position he still holds. In him all the Romantic characteristics are expressed and embodied,—disregard of arbitrary rules, free choice of subjects, variety and vigor of metre, and beauty of diction. His poetical influence has been represented in three different schools, corresponding in point of time with the first outburst of the movement, a brief period of reaction, and the closing years of the second empire. Of the first, Théophile Gautier (1811-1872) was the most distinguished member. The next generation produced those remarkable poets, Theodore de Banville (b. 1820), who composed a large amount of verse faultless in form and exquisite in shade and color, but so neutral in tone that it has found few admirers, and Charles Baudelaire (1821-1867), who offends by the choice of unpopular subjects and the terrible truth of his analysis.

The poems of De Vigny are sweet and elegant, though somewhat lacking in the energy belonging to lyric composition. Those of Alfred de Musset (1800-1857) are among the finest in the language.

The Gascon poet Jasmin has produced a good deal of verse in the western dialect of the Langue d'oc, and recently a more cultivated and literary school of poets has arisen in Provence, the chief of whom is Mistral.

The effect of the Romantic movement on the drama has been the introduction of a species of play called the drame, as opposed to regular comedy and tragedy, and admitting of freer treatment. Victor Hugo, Alexandre Dumas (1803-1874), Victorien Sardou (b. 1831), Alexandre Dumas fils (b. 1821), Legouvé (b. 1807), Scribe (1791-1861), Octave Feuillet (b. 1812), have produced works of this class.

The literature of France during the last generation has been prolific in dramas and romances, all of which indicate a chaos of opinion. It is not professedly infidel, like that of the eighteenth century, nor professedly pietistic, like that of the seventeenth. It seems to have no general aim, the opinions and efforts of the authors being seldom consistent with themselves for any length of time. No one can deny that this literature engages the reader's most intense interest by the seductive sagacity of the movement, the variety of incident, and the most perfect command of those means calculated to produce certain ends.

In 1866 appeared a collection of poems, "Le Parnasse Contemporain," which included contributions of many poets already named, and of others unknown. Two other collections followed, one in 1869 and one in 1876, by numerous contributors, who have mostly published separate works. They are called collectively, half seriously and half in derision, "Les Parnassiens." Their cardinal principle is a devotion to poetry as an art, with diversity of aim and subject. Of these, Coppée devotes himself to domestic and social subjects; Louise Siefert indulges in the poetry of despair; Glatigny excels all in individuality of poetical treatment. The Parnassiens number three or four score poets; the average of their work is high, though to none can be assigned the first rank.

FICTION.—Previous to 1830 no writer of fiction had formed a school, nor had this form of literature been cultivated to any great extent. From the immense influence of Walter Scott, or from other causes, there suddenly appeared a remarkable group of novelists, Hugo, Gautier, Dumas, Mérimée, Balzac, George Sand, Sandeau, Charles de Bernard, and others scarcely inferior. It is remarkable that the excellence of the first group has been maintained by a new generation, Murger, About, Feuillet, Flaubert, Erckmann-Chatrian, Droz, Daudet, Cherbulliez, Gaboriau, Dumas fils, and others.

During this period the romance-writing of France has taken two different directions. The first, that of the novel of incident, of which Scott was the model; the second, that of analysis and character, illustrated by the genius of Balzac and George Sand. The stories of Hugo are novels of incident with ideal character painting. Dumas's works are dramatic in character and charming for their brilliancy and wit. His "Trois Mousquetaires" and "Monte Christo" are considered his best novels. Of a similar kind are the novels of Eugene Sue. Both writers were followed by a crowd of companions and imitators. The taste for the novel of incident, which had nearly died out, was renewed in another form, with the admixture of domestic interest, by the literary partners, Erckmann-Chatrian.

Théophile Gautier modified the incident novel in many short tales, a kind of writing for which the French have always been famous, and of which the writings of Gautier were masterpieces. With him may be classed Prosper Mérimée (1803-1871), one of the most exquisite masters of the language.

Since 1830 the tendency has been towards novels of contemporary life. The two great masters of the novel of character and manners, as opposed to that of history and incident, are Honoré de Balzac (1799-1850) and Aurore Dudevant, commonly called George Sand (d. 1876), whose early writings are strongly tinged with the spirit of revolt against moral and social arrangements: later she devoted herself to studies of country life and manners, involving bold sketches of character and dramatic situations. One of the most remarkable characteristics of her work is the apparently inexhaustible imagination with which she continued to the close of her long life to pour forth many volumes of fiction year after year. Balzac, as a writer, was equally productive. In the "Comédie Humaine" he attempted to cover the whole ground of human, or at least of French life, and the success he attained was remarkable. The influence of these two writers affected the entire body of those who succeeded them with very few exceptions. Among these are Jules Sandeau, whose novels are distinguished by minute character-drawing in tones of a sombre hue.

Saintine, the author of "Picciola," Mme. Craven (Reçit d'une Soeur), Henri Beyle, who, under the nom de plume of Stendhal, wrote the "Chartreuse de Parme," a powerful novel of the analytical kind, and Henri Murger, a painter of Bohemian life. Octave Feuillet has attained great popularity in romances of fashionable life. Gustave Flaubert (b. 1821), with great acuteness and knowledge of human nature, combines scholarship and a power over the language not surpassed by any writer of the century. Edmond About (b. 1828) is distinguished by his refined wit. One of the most popular writers of the second empire is Ernest Feydeau (1821-1874), a writer of great ability, but morbid and affected in the choice and treatment of his subjects. Of late, many writers of the realist school have striven to outdo their predecessors in carrying out the principles of Balzac; among these are Gaboriau, Cherbulliez, Droz, Bélot, Alphonse Daudet.

CRITICISM.—Previous to the Romantic movement in France the office of criticism had been to compare all literary productions with certain established rules, and to judge them accordingly. The theory of the new school was, that a work should be judged by itself alone or by the author's ideal. The great master of this school was Sainte-Beuve (1804- 1869), who possessed a rare combination of great and accurate learning, compass and profundity of thought, and above all sympathy in judgment. Hippolyte Taine (b. 1828), the most brilliant of living French critics, Théophile Gautier, Arsène Houssaye, Jules Janin (d. 1874), Sarcey, and others, are distinguished in this branch of letters.

MISCELLANEOUS.—Among earlier writers of the nineteenth century are Sismondi, whose "Literature of Southern Europe" remains without a rival, the work of Ginguené on "Italian Literature," and of Renouard on "Provençal Poetry." In intellectual philosophy Jouffroy and Damiron continued the work begun by Royer-Collard, that of destroying the influence of sensualism and materialism. The philosophical writings of Cousin (1792-1867) are models of didactic prose, and in his work on "The Beautiful, True, and Good" he raises the science of aesthetics to its highest dignity. Lamennais (1782-1854) exhibits in his writings various phases of religious thought, ending in rationalism. Comte (1798-1857), in his "Positive Philosophy," shows power of generalization and force of logic, though tending to atheism and socialism. De Tocqueville and Chevalier are distinguished in political science, the former particularly for his able work on "Democracy in America." Renan (b. 1823) is a prominent name in theological writing, and Montalembert (1810-1870) a historian with strong religious tendencies.

Among the orators Lacordaire, Père Felix, Père Hyacinthe, and Coquerel are best known.

Among the women of France distinguished for their literary abilities are Mme. Durant, who, under the name of Henri Greville, has given, in a series of tales, many charming pictures of Russian life, Mlle. Clarisse Bader, who has produced valuable historical works on the condition of women in all ages, and Mme. Adam, a brilliant writer and journalist.

In science, Pasteur and Milne-Edwards hold the first rank in biology, Paul
Bert in physiology, and Quatrefages in anthropology of races.

SPANISH LITERATURE.

INTRODUCTION.—1. Spanish Literature and its Divisions.—2. The Language.

PERIOD FIRST.—1. Early National Literature; the Poem of the Cid; Berceo,
Alfonso the Wise, Segura; Don Juan Manuel, the Archpriest of Hita, Santob,
Ayala.—2. Old Ballads.—3. The Chronicles.—4. Romances of Chivalry.—5.
The Drama.—6. Provençal Literature in Spain.—7. The Influence of Italian
Literature in Spain.—8. The Cancioneros and Prose Writing.—9. The
Inquisition.

PERIOD SECOND.—1. The Effect of Intolerance on Letters.—2. Influence of
Italy on Spanish Literature; Boscan, Garcilasso de la Vega, Diego de
Mendoza.—3. History; Cortez, Gomara, Oviedo, Las Casas.—4. The Drama,
Rueda, Lope de Vega, Calderon de la Barca.—5. Romances and Tales;
Cervantes, and other Writers of Fiction.—6. Historical Narrative Poems;
Ercilla.—7. Lyric Poetry; the Argensolas; Luis de Leon, Quevedo, Herrera,
Gongora, and others.—8. Satirical and other Poetry.—9. History and other
Prose Writing; Zurita, Mariana, Sandoval, and others.

PERIOD THIRD.—1. French Influence on the Literature of Spain.—2. The
Dawn of Spanish Literature in the Eighteenth Century; Feyjoo, Isla,
Moratin the elder, Yriarte, Melendez, Gonzalez, Quintana, Moratin the
younger.—3. Spanish Literature in the Nineteenth Century.

INTRODUCTION.

1. SPANISH LITERATURE AND ITS DIVISIONS.—At the period of the subversion of the Empire of the West, in the fifth century, Spain was invaded by the Suevi, the Alans, the Vandals, and the Visigoths. The country which had for six centuries been subjected to the dominion of the Romans, and had, adopted the language and arts of its masters, now experienced those changes in manners, opinions, military spirit, and language, which took place in the other provinces of the empire, and which, were, in fact, the origin of the nations which arose on the overthrow of the Roman power. Among the conquerors of Spain, the Visigoths were the most numerous; the ancient Roman subjects were speedily confounded with them, and their dominion soon extended over nearly the whole country. In the year 710 the peninsula was invaded by the Arabs or Moors, and from that time the active and incessant struggles of the Spanish Christians against the invaders, and their necessary contact with Arabian civilization, began to elicit sparks of intellectual energy. Indeed, the first utterance of that popular feeling which became the foundation of the national literature was heard in the midst of that extraordinary contest, which lasted for more than seven centuries, so that the earliest Spanish poetry seems but a breathing of the energy and heroism which, at the time it appeared, animated the Spanish Christians throughout the peninsula. Overwhelmed by the Moors, they did not entirely yield; a small but valiant band, retreating before the fiery pursuit of their enemies, established themselves in the extreme northwestern portion of their native land, amidst the mountains and the fastnesses of Biscay and Asturias, while the others remained under the yoke of the conquerors, adopting, in some degree, the manners and habits of the Arabians. On the destruction of the caliphat of Cordova, in the year 1031, the dismemberment of the Moslem territories into petty Independent kingdoms, often at variance with each other, afforded the Christians a favorable opportunity of reconquering their country. One after another the Moorish states fell before them. The Moors were driven farther and farther to the south, and by the middle of the thirteenth century they had no dominion in Spain except the kingdom of Granada, which for two centuries longer continued the splendid abode of luxury and magnificence.

As victory inclined more and more to the Spanish arms, the Castilian dialect rapidly grew into a vehicle adequate to express the pride and dignity of the prevailing people, and that enthusiasm for liberty which was long their finest characteristic. The poem of the Cid early appeared, and in the thirteenth century a numerous family of romantic ballads followed, all glowing with heroic ardor. As another epoch drew near, the lyric form began to predominate, in which, however, the warm expressions of the Spanish heart were restricted by a fondness for conceit and allegory. The rudiments of the drama, religious, pastoral, and satiric, soon followed, marked by many traits of original thought and talent. Thus the course of Spanish literature proceeded, animated and controlled by the national character, to the end of the fifteenth century.

In the sixteenth, the original genius of the Spaniards, and their proud consciousness of national greatness, contributed to the maintenance and improvement of their literature in the face of the Inquisition itself. Released by the conquest of Granada (1492) from the presence of internal foes, prosperous at home and powerful abroad, Spain naturally rose to high mental dignity; and with all that she gathered from foreign contributions, her writers kept much of their native vein, more free than at first from Orientalism, but still breathing of their own romantic land. A close connection, however, for more than one hundred years with Italy, familiarized the Spanish mind with eminent Italian authors and with the ancient classics.

During the seventeenth century, especially from the middle to the close, the decay of letters kept pace with the decline of Spanish power, until the humiliation of both seemed completed in the reign of Charles II. About that time, however, the Spanish drama received a full development and attained its perfection. In the eighteenth century, under the government of the Bourbons, and partly through the patronage of Philip V., there was a certain revival of literature; but unfortunately, parties divided, and many of the educated Spaniards were so much attracted by French glitter as to turn with disgust from their own writers. The political convulsions, of which Spain has been the victim since the time of Ferdinand VII., have greatly retarded the progress of national literature, and the nineteenth century has thus far produced little which is worthy of mention.

The literary history of Spain may be divided into three periods:—

The first, extending from the close of the twelfth century to the beginning of the sixteenth, will contain the literature of the country from the first appearance of the present written language to the early part of the reign of Charles V., and will include the genuinely national literature, and that portion which, by imitating the refinement of Provence or of Italy, was, during the same interval, more or less separated from the popular spirit and genius.

The second, the period of literary success and national glory, extending from the beginning of the sixteenth century to the close of the seventeenth, will embrace the literature from the accession of the Austrian family to its extinction.

The third, the period of decline, extends from the beginning of the eighteenth to the middle of the nineteenth century, or from the accession of the Bourbon family to the present time.

2. THE LANGUAGE.—The Spanish Christians who, after the Moorish conquest, had retreated to the mountains of Asturias, carried with them the Latin language as they had received it corrupted from the Romans, and still more by the elements introduced into it by the invasion of the northern tribes. In their retreat they found themselves amidst the descendants of the Iberians, the earliest race which had inhabited Spain, who appeared to have shaken off little of the barbarism that had resisted alike the invasion of the Romans and of the Goths, and who retained the original Iberian or Basque tongue. Coming in contact with this, the language of those Christians underwent new modifications; later, when they advanced in their conquest toward the south and the east, and found themselves surrounded by those portions of their race that had remained among the Arabs, known as Muçárabes, they felt that they were in the presence of a civilization and refinement altogether superior to their own. As the Goths, between the fifth and eighth centuries, had received a vast number of words from the Latin, because it was the language of a people with whom they were intimately mingled, and who were much more intellectual and advanced than themselves, so, for the same reason, the whole nation, between the eighth and thirteenth centuries, received another increase of their vocabulary from the Arabic, and accommodated themselves in a remarkable degree to the advanced culture of their southern countrymen, and of their new Moorish subjects.

It appears that about the middle of the twelfth century this new dialect had risen to the dignity of being a written language; and it spread gradually through the country. It differed from the pure or the corrupted Latin, and still more from the Arabic; yet it was obviously formed by a union of both, modified by the analogies and spirit of the Gothic constructions and dialects, and containing some remains of the vocabularies of the Iberians, the Celts, the Phoenicians, and of the German tribes, who at different periods had occupied the peninsula. This, like the other languages of Southern Europe, was called originally the Romance, from the prevalence of the Roman and Latin elements.

The territories of the Christian Spaniards were divided into three longitudinal sections, having each a separate dialect, arising from the mixture of different primitive elements. The Catalan was spoken in the east, the Castilian in the centre, while the Galician, which originated the Portuguese, prevailed in the west.

The Catalan or Limousin, the earliest dialect cultivated in the peninsula, bore a strong resemblance to the Provençal, and when the bards were driven from Provence they found a home in the east of Spain, and numerous celebrated troubadours arose in Aragon and Catalonia. But many elements concurred to produce a decay of the Catalan, and from the beginning of the sixteenth century it rapidly declined. It is still spoken in the Balearic Islands and among the lower classes of some of the eastern parts of Spain, but since the sixteenth century the Castilian alone has been the vehicle of literature.

The Castilian dialect followed the fortune of the Castilian arms, until it finally became the established language, even of the most southern provinces, where it had been longest withstood by the Arabic. Its clear, sonorous vowels and the beautiful articulation of its syllables, give it a greater resemblance to the Italian than any other idiom of the peninsula. But amidst this euphony the ear is struck with the sound of the German and Arabic guttural, which is unknown in the other languages in which Latin roots predominate.

PERIOD FIRST.

FROM THE FIRST APPEARANCE OF THE WRITTEN LANGUAGE TO THE EARLY PART OF THE REIGN OF CHARLES V. (1200-1500).

1. EARLY NATIONAL LITERATURE.—There are two traits of the earliest Spanish literature which so peculiarly distinguish it that they deserve to be noticed from the outset—religious faith and knightly loyalty. The Spanish national character, as it has existed from the earliest times to the present day, was formed in that solemn contest which began when the Moors landed beneath the rock of Gibraltar, and which did not end until eight centuries after, when the last remnants of the race were driven from the shores of Spain. During this contest, especially that part of it when the earliest Spanish poetry appeared, nothing but an invincible faith and a not less invincible loyalty to their own princes could have sustained the Christian Spaniards in their struggles against their infidel oppressors. It was, therefore, a stern necessity which made these two high qualities elements of the Spanish national character, and it is not surprising that we find submission to the church and loyalty to the king constantly breathing through every portion of Spanish literature.

The first monument of the Spanish, or, as it was oftener called, the Castilian tongue, the most ancient epic in any of the Romance languages, is "The Poem of the Cid." It consists of more than three thousand lines, and was probably not composed later than the year 1200. This poem celebrates the achievements of the great hero of the chivalrous age of Spain, Rodrigo Diaz (1020-1099), who obtained from five Moorish kings, whom he had vanquished in battle, the title of El Seid, or my lord. He was also called by the Spaniards El Campeador or El Cid Campeador, the Champion or the Lord Champion, and he well deserved the honorable title, for he passed almost the whole of his life in the field against the oppressors of his country, and led the conquering arms of the Christians over nearly a quarter of Spain. No hero has been so universally celebrated by his countrymen, and poetry and tradition have delighted to attach to his name a long series of fabulous achievements, which remind us as often of Amadis and Arthur, as they do of the sober heroes of history. His memory is so sacredly dear to the Spanish nation, that to say "by the faith of Rodrigo," is still considered the strongest vow of loyalty.

The poem of the Cid is valuable mainly for the living picture it presents of manners and character in the eleventh century. It is a contemporary and spirited exhibition of the chivalrous times of Spain, given occasionally with an admirable and Homeric simplicity. It is the history of the most romantic hero of Spanish tradition, continually mingled with domestic and personal details, that bring the character of the Cid and his age very near to our own sympathies and interests. The language is the same which he himself spoke—still only imperfectly developed—it expresses the bold and original spirit of the time, and the metre and rhyme are rude and unsettled; but the poem throughout is striking and original, and breathes everywhere the true Castilian spirit. During the thousand years which elapsed from the time of the decay of Greek and Roman culture down to the appearance of the Divine Comedy, no poetry was produced so original in its tone, or so full of natural feeling, picturesqueness, and energy.

There are a few other poems, anonymous, like that of the Cid, whose language and style carry them back to the thirteenth century. The next poetry we meet is by a known author, Gonzalo (1220-1260), a priest commonly called Berceo, from the place of his birth. His works, all on religious subjects, amount to more than thirteen thousand lines. His language shows some advance from that in which the Cid was written, but the power and movement of that remarkable legend are entirely wanting in these poems. There is a simple-hearted piety in them, however, that is very attractive, and in some of them a story-telling spirit that is occasionally vivid and graphic.

Alfonso, surnamed the Wise (1221-1284), united the crowns of Leon and Castile, and attracted to his court many of the philosophers and learned men of the East. He was a poet closely connected with the Provençal troubadours of his time, and so skilled in astronomy and the occult sciences that his fame spread throughout Europe. He had more political, philosophical, and elegant learning than any man of his age, and made further advances in some of the exact sciences. At one period his consideration was so great, that he was elected Emperor of Germany; but his claims were set aside by the subsequent election of Rudolph of Hapsburg. The last great work undertaken by Alfonso was a kind of code known as "Las Siete Partidas," or The Seven Parts, from the divisions of the work itself. This is the most important legislative monument of the age, and forms a sort of Spanish common law, which, with the decisions under it, has been the basis of Spanish jurisprudence ever since. Becoming a part of the Constitution of the State in all Spanish colonies, it has, from the time Louisiana and Florida were added to the United States, become in some cases the law in our own country.

The life of Alfonso was full of painful vicissitudes. He was driven from his throne by factious nobles and a rebellious son, and died in exile, leaving behind him the reputation of being the wisest fool in Christendom. Mariana says of him: "He was more fit for letters than for the government of his subjects; he studied the heavens and watched the stars, but forgot the earth and lost his kingdom." Yet Alfonso is among the chief founders of his country's intellectual fame, and he is to be remembered alike for the great advancement Castilian prose composition made in his hands, for his poetry, for his astronomical tables—which all the progress of modern science has not deprived of their value—and for his great work on legislation, which is at this moment an authority in both hemispheres.

Juan Lorenzo Segura (1176-1250) was the author of a poem containing more than ten thousand lines, on the history of Alexander the Great. In this poem the manners and customs of Spain in the thirteenth century are substituted for those of ancient Greece, and the Macedonian hero is invested with all the virtues and even equipments of European chivalry.

Don Juan Manuel, (1282-1347), a nephew of Alfonso the Wise, was one of the most turbulent and dangerous Spanish barons of his time. His life was full of intrigue and violence, and for thirty years he disturbed his country by his military and rebellious enterprises. But in all these circumstances, so adverse to intellectual pursuits, he showed himself worthy of the family in which for more than a century letters had been honored and cultivated. Don Juan is known to have written twelve works, but it is uncertain how many of these are still in existence; only one, "Count Lucanor," has been placed beyond the reach of accident by being printed. The Count Lucanor is the most valuable monument of Spanish literature in the fourteenth century, and one of the earliest prose works in the Castilian tongue, as the Decameron, which appeared about the same time, was the first in the Italian. Both are collections of tales; but the object of the Decameron is to amuse, while the Count Lucanor is the production of a statesman, instructing a grave and serious nation in lessons of policy and morality in the form of apologues. These stories have suggested many subjects for the Spanish stage, and one of them contains the groundwork of Shakspeare's "Taming of the Shrew."

Juan Ruiz, arch-priest of Hita (1292-1351), was a contemporary of Don Manuel. His works consist of nearly seven thousand verses, forming a series of stories which appear to be sketches from his own history, mingled with fictions and allegories. The most curious is "The Battle of Don Carnival with Madame Lent," in which Don Bacon, Madame Hungbeef, and a train of other savory personages, are marshaled in mortal combat. The cause of Madame Lent triumphs, and Don Carnival is condemned to solitary imprisonment and one spare meal each day. At the end of forty days the allegorical prisoner escapes, raises new followers, Don Breakfast and others, and re-appears in alliance with Don Amor. The poetry of the arch- priest is very various in tone. In general, it is satirical and pervaded by a quiet humor. His happiest success is in the tales and apologues which illustrate the adventures that constitute a framework for his poetry, which is natural and spirited; and in this, as in other points, he strikingly resembles Chaucer. Both often sought their materials in Northern French poetry, and both have that mixture of devotion and of licentiousness belonging to their age, as well as to the personal character of each.

Rabbi Santob, a Jew of Carrion (fl. 1350), was the author of many poems, the most important of which is "The Dance of Death," a favorite subject of the painters and poets of the Middle Ages, representing a kind of spiritual masquerade, in which persons of every rank and age appear dancing with the skeleton form of Death. In this Spanish version it is perhaps more striking and picturesque than in any other—the ghastly nature of the subject being brought into very lively contrast with the festive tone of the verses. This grim fiction had for several centuries great success throughout Europe.

Pedro Lopez Ayala (1332-1407), grand chancellor of Castile under four successive sovereigns, was both a poet and a historian. His poem, "Court Rhymes," is the most remarkable of his productions. His style is grave, gentle, and didactic, with occasional expressions of poetic feeling, which seem, however, to belong as much to their age as to their author.

2. OLD BALLADS.—From the thirteenth to the fifteenth century, the period we have just gone over, the courts of the different sovereigns of Europe were the principal centres of refinement and civilization, and this was peculiarly the case in Spain during this period, when literature was produced or encouraged by the sovereigns and other distinguished men. But this was not the only literature of Spain. The spirit of poetry diffused throughout the peninsula, excited by the romantic events of Spanish history, now began to assume the form of a popular literature, and to assert for itself a place which in some particulars it has maintained ever since. This popular literature may be distributed into four different classes. The first contains the Ballads, or the narrative and lyrical poetry of the common people from the earliest times; the second, the Chronicles, or the half-genuine, half-fabulous histories of the great events and heroes of the national annals; the third class comprises the Romances of Chivalry, intimately connected with both the others, and, after a time, as passionately admired by the whole nation; and the fourth includes the Drama, which in its origin has always been a popular and religious amusement, and was hardly less so in Spain than it was in Greece or in France. These four classes compose what was generally most valued in Spanish literature during the latter part of the fourteenth century, the whole of the fifteenth, and much of the sixteenth. They rested on the deep foundations of the national character, and therefore by their very nature were opposed to the Provençal, the Italian, and the courtly schools, which flourished during the same period.

The metrical structure of the old Spanish ballad was extremely simple, consisting of eight-syllable lines, which are composed with great facility in other languages as well as the Castilian. Sometimes they were broken into stanzas of four lines each, thence called redondillas, or roundelays, but their prominent peculiarity is that of the asonante, an imperfect rhyme that echoes the same vowel, but not the same final consonant in the terminating syllables. This metrical form was at a later period adopted by the dramatists, and is now used in every department of Spanish poetry.

The old Spanish ballads comprise more than a thousand poems, first collected in the sixteenth century, whose authors and dates are alike unknown. Indeed, until after the middle of that century, it is difficult to find ballads written by known authors. These collections, arranged without regard to chronological order, relate to the fictions of chivalry, especially to Charlemagne and his peers, to the traditions and history of Spain, to Moorish adventures, and to the private life and manners of the Spaniards themselves; they belong to the unchronicled popular life and character of the age which gave them birth. The ballads of chivalry, with the exception of those relating to Charlemagne, occupy a less important place than those founded on national subjects. The historical ballads are by far the most numerous and the most interesting; and of those the first in the order of time are those relating to Bernardo del Carpio, concerning whom there are about forty. Bernardo (fl. 800) was the offspring of a secret marriage between the Count de Saldaña and a sister of Alfonso the Chaste, at which the king was so much offended that he sent the Infanta to a convent, and kept the Count in perpetual imprisonment, educating Bernardo as his own son, and keeping him in ignorance of his birth. The achievements of Bernardo ending with the victory of Roncesvalles, his efforts to procure the release of his father, the falsehood of the king, and the despair and rebellion of Bernardo after the death of the Count in prison, constitute the romantic incidents of these ballads.

The next series is that on Fernan Gonzalez, a chieftain who, in the middle of the tenth century, recovered Castile from the Moors and became its first sovereign count. The most romantic are those which describe his being twice rescued from prison by his heroic wife, and his contest with King Sancho, in which he displayed all the turbulence and cunning of a robber baron of the Middle Ages.

The Seven Lords of Lara form the next group; some of them are beautiful, and the story they contain is one of the most romantic in Spanish history. The Seven Lords of Lara are betrayed by their uncle into the hands of the Moors, and put to death, while their father, by the basest treason, is confined in a Moorish prison. An eighth son, the famous Mudarra, whose mother is a noble Moorish lady, at last avenges all the wrongs of his race.

But from the earliest period, the Cid has been the occasion of more ballads than any other of the great heroes of Spanish history or fable. They were first collected in 1612, and have been continually republished to the present day. There are at least a hundred and sixty of them, forming a more complete series than any other, all strongly marked with the spirit of their age and country.

The Moorish ballads form a large and brilliant class by themselves. The period when this style of poetry came into favor was the century after the fall of Granada, when the south, with its refinement and effeminacy, its magnificent and fantastic architecture, the foreign yet not strange manners of its people, and the stories of their warlike achievements, all took strong hold of the Spanish imagination, and made of Granada a fairy land.

Of the ballads relating to private life, most of them are effusions of love, others are satirical, pastoral, and burlesque, and many descriptive of the manners and amusements of the people at large; but all of them are true representations of Spanish life. They are marked by an attractive simplicity of thought and expression, united to a sort of mischievous shrewdness. No such popular poetry exists in any other language, and no other exhibits in so great a degree that nationality which is the truest element of such poetry everywhere. The English and Scotch ballads, with which they may most naturally be compared, belong to a ruder state of society, which gave to the poetry less dignity and elevation than belong to a people who, like the Spanish, were for centuries engaged in a contest ennobled by a sense of religion and loyalty, and which could not fail to raise the minds of those engaged in it far above the atmosphere that settled around the bloody feuds of rival barons, or the gross maraudings of border warfare. The great Castilian heroes, the Cid, Bernardo del Carpio, and Pelayo, are even now an essential portion of the faith and poetry of the common people of Spain, and are still honored as they were centuries ago. The stories of Guarinos and of the defeat at Roncesvalles are still sung by the wayfaring muleteers, as they were when Don Quixote heard them on his journey to Toboso, and the showmen still rehearse the same adventures in the streets of Seville, that they did at the solitary inn of Montesinos when he encountered them there.

3. THE CHRONICLES.—As the great Moorish contest was transferred to the south of Spain, the north became comparatively quiet. Wealth and leisure followed; the castles became the abodes of a crude but free hospitality, and the distinctions of society grew more apparent. The ballads from this time began to subside into the lower portions of society; the educated sought forms of literature more in accordance with their increased knowledge and leisure, and their more settled system of social life. The oldest of these forms was that of the Spanish prose chronicles, of which there are general and royal chronicles, chronicles of particular events, chronicles of particular persons, chronicles of travels, and romantic chronicles.

The first of these chronicles in the order of time as well as that of merit, comes from the royal hand of Alfonso the Wise, and is entitled "The Chronicle of Spain." It begins with the creation of the world, and concludes with the death of St. Ferdinand, the father of Alfonso. The last part, relating to the history of Spain, is by far the most attractive, and sets forth in a truly national spirit all the rich old traditions of the country. This is not only the most interesting of the Spanish chronicles, but the most interesting of all that in any country mark the transition from its poetical and romantic traditions to the grave exactness of historical truth. The chronicle of the Cid was probably taken from this work.

Alfonso XI. ordered the annals of the kingdom to be continued down to his own reign, or through the period from 1252 to 1312. During many succeeding reigns the royal chronicles were continued,—that of Ferdinand and Isabella, by Pulgar, is the last instance of the old style; but though the annals were still kept up, the free and picturesque spirit that gave them life was no longer there.

The chronicles of particular events and persons are most of them of little value.

Among the chronicles of travels, the oldest one of any value is an account of a Spanish embassy to Tamerlane, the great Tartar potentate.

Of the romantic chronicles, the principal specimen is that of Don Roderic, a fabulous account of the reign of King Roderic, the conquest of the country by the Moors, and the first attempts to recover it in the beginning of the eighth century. The style is heavy and verbose, although upon it Southey has founded much of his beautiful poem of "Roderic, the last of the Goths." This chronicle of Don Roderic, which was little more than a romance of chivalry, marks the transition to those romantic fictions that had already begun to inundate Spain. But the series which it concludes extends over a period of two hundred and fifty years, from the time of Alfonso the Wise to the accession of Charles V. (1221-1516), and is unrivaled in the richness and variety of its poetic elements. In truth, these old Spanish chronicles cannot be compared with those of any other nation, and whether they have their foundation in truth or in fable, they strike their strong roots further down into the deep soil of popular feeling and character. The old Spanish loyalty, the old Spanish religious faith, as both were formed and nourished in long periods of national trial and suffering, everywhere appear; and they contain such a body of antiquities, traditions, and fables as has been offered to no other people; furnishing not only materials from which a multitude of old Spanish plays, ballads, and romances have been drawn, but a mine which has unceasingly been wrought by the rest of Europe for similar purposes, and which still remains unexhausted.

4. ROMANCES OF CHIVALRY.—The ballads originally belonged to the whole nation, but especially to its less cultivated portions. The chronicles, on the contrary, belonged to the knightly classes, who sought in these picturesque records of their fathers a stimulus to their own virtue. But as the nation advanced in refinement, books of less grave character were demanded, and the spirit of poetical invention soon turned to the national traditions, and produced from these new and attractive forms of fiction. Before the middle of the fourteenth century, the romances of chivalry connected with the stories of Arthur and the knights of the Round Table, and Charlemagne and his peers, which had appeared in France two centuries before, were scarcely known in Spain; but after that time they were imitated, and a new series of fictions was invented, which soon spread through the world, and became more famous than, either of its predecessors.

This extraordinary family of romances is that of which "Amadis" is the poetical head and type, and this was probably produced before the year 1400, by Vasco de Lobeira, a Portuguese. The structure and tone of this fiction are original, and much more free than those of the French romances that had preceded it. The stories of Arthur and Charlemagne are both somewhat limited in invention by the adventures ascribed to them in the traditions and chronicles, while that of Amadis belongs purely to the imagination, and its sole purpose is to set forth the character of a perfect knight. Amadis is admitted by general consent to be the best of all the old romances of chivalry. The series which followed, founded upon the Amadis, reached the number of twenty-four. They were successively translated into French, and at once became famous. Considering the passionate admiration which this work so long excited, and the influence that, with little merit of its own, it has ever since exercised on the poetry and romance of modern Europe, it is a phenomenon without parallel in literary history.

Many other series of romances followed, numbering more than seventy volumes, most of them in folio, and their influence over the Spanish character extended through two hundred years. Their extraordinary popularity may be accounted for, if we remember that, when they first appeared in Spain, it had long been peculiarly the land of knighthood. Extravagant and impossible as are many of the adventures recorded in these books of chivalry, they so little exceeded the absurdities of living men that many persons took the romances themselves to be true histories, and believed them. The happiest work of the greatest genius Spain has produced bears witness on every page to the prevalence of an absolute fanaticism for these books of chivalry, and becomes at once the seal of their vast popularity and the monument of their fate.

5. THE DRAMA.—The ancient theatre of the Greeks and Romans was continued in some of its grosser forms in Constantinople and in other parts of the fallen empire far into the Middle Ages. But it was essentially mythological or heathenish, and, as such, it was opposed by the Christian church, which, however, provided a substitute for what it thus opposed, by adding a dramatic element to its festivals. Thus the manger at Bethlehem, with the worship of the shepherds and magi, was at a very early period solemnly exhibited every year before the altars of the churches, at Christmas, as were the tragical events of the last days of the Saviour's life, during Lent and at the approach of Easter. To these spectacles, dialogue was afterwards added, and they were called, as we have seen, Mysteries; they were used successfully not only as a means of amusement, but for the religious edification of an ignorant multitude, and in some countries they have been continued quite down to our own times. The period when these representations were first made in Spain cannot now be determined, though it was certainly before the middle of the thirteenth century, and no distinct account of them now remains.

A singular combination of pastoral and satirical poetry indicates the first origin of the Spanish secular drama. Towards the close of the fifteenth century, these pastoral dialogues were converted into real dramas by Enzina, and were publicly represented. But the most important of these early productions is the "Tragi-comedy of Calisto and Meliboea," or "Celestina." Though it can never have been represented, it has left unmistakable traces of its influence on the national drama ever since. It was translated into various languages, and few works ever had a more brilliant success. The great fault of the Celestina is its shameless libertinism of thought and language; and its chief merits are its life- like exhibition of the most unworthy forms of human character, and its singularly pure, rich, and idiomatic Castilian style.

The dramatic writers of this period seem to have had no idea of founding a popular national drama, of which there is no trace as late as the close of the reign of Ferdinand and Isabella.

6. PROVENÇAL LITERATURE IN SPAIN.—When the crown of Provence was transferred, by the marriage of its heir, in 1113, to Berenger, Count of Barcelona, numbers of the Provençal poets followed their liege lady from Arles to Barcelona, and established themselves in her new capital. At the very commencement, therefore, of the twelfth century, Provençal refinement was introduced into the northeastern corner of Spain. Political causes soon carried it farther towards the centre of the country. The Counts of Barcelona obtained, by marriage, the kingdom of Aragon, and soon spread through their new territories many of the refinements of Provence. The literature thus introduced retained its Provençal character till it came in contact with that more vigorous spirit which had been advancing from the northwest, and which afterwards gave its tone to the consolidated monarchy.

The poetry of the troubadours in Catalonia, as well as in its native home, belonged much to the court, and the highest in rank and power were earliest and foremost on its lists. From 1209 to 1229, the war against the Albigenses was carried on with extraordinary cruelty and fury. To this sect nearly all the contemporary troubadours belonged, and when they were compelled to escape from the burnt and bloody ruins of their homes, many of them hastened to the friendly court of Aragon, sure of being protected and honored by princes who were at the same time poets.

From the close of the thirteenth century, the songs of the troubadours were rarely heard in the land that gave them birth three hundred years before; and the plant that was not permitted to expand in its native soil, soon perished in that to which it had been transplanted. After the opening of the fourteenth century, no genuinely Provençal poetry appears in Castile, and from the middle of that century it begins to recede from Catalonia and Aragon; or rather, to be corrupted by the hardier dialect spoken there by the mass of the people. The retreat of the troubadours over the Pyrenees, from Aix to Barcelona, from Barcelona to Saragossa and Valencia, is everywhere marked by the wrecks and fragments of their peculiar poetry and cultivation. At length, oppressed by the more powerful Castilian, what remained of the language, that gave the first impulse to poetic feeling in modern times, sank into a neglected dialect.

7. THE INFLUENCE OF ITALIAN LITERATURE IN SPAIN.—The influence of the Italian literature over the Spanish, though less apparent at first, was more deep and lasting than that of the Provençal. The long wars that the Christians of Spain waged against the Moors brought them into closer spiritual connection with the Church of Rome than any other people of modern times. Spanish students repaired to the famous universities of Italy, and returned to Spain, bringing with them the influence of Italian culture; and commercial and political relations still further promoted a free communication of the manners and literature of Italy to Spain. The language, also, from its affinity with the Spanish, constituted a still more important and effectual medium of intercourse. In the reign of John II. (1407-1454), the attempt to form an Italian school in Spain became apparent. This sovereign gathered about him a sort of poetical court, and gave an impulse to refinement that was perceptible for several generations.

Among those who interested themselves most directly in the progress of
poetry in Spain, the first in rank, after the king himself, was the
Marquis of Villena (1384-1434), whose fame rests chiefly on the "Labors of
Hercules," a short prose treatise or allegory.

First of all the courtiers and poets of this reign, in point of merit, stands the Marquis of Santillana (1398-1458), whose works belong more or less to the Provençal, Italian, and Spanish schools. He was the founder of an Italian and courtly school in Spanish poetry—one adverse to the national school and finally overcome by it, but one that long exercised a considerable sway. Another poet of the court of John II. is Juan de Mena, historiographer of Castile. His principal works are, "The Coronation" and "The Labyrinth," both imitations of Dante. They are of consequence as marking the progress of the language. The principal poem of Manrique the younger, one of an illustrious family of that name, who were poets, statesmen, and soldiers, on the death of his father, is remarkable for depth and truth of feeling. Its greatest charm is its beautiful simplicity, and its merit entitles it to the place it has taken among the most admired portions of the elder Spanish literature.

8. THE CANCIONEROS AND PROSE WRITINGS.—The most distinct idea of the poetical culture of Spain, during the fifteenth century, may he obtained from the "Cancioneros," or collections of poetry, sometimes all by one author, sometimes by many. The oldest of these dates from about 1450, and was the work of Baena. Many similar collections followed, and they were among the fashionable wants of the age. In 1511, Castillo printed at Valencia the "Cancionero General," which contained poems attributed to about a hundred different poets, from the time of Santillana to the period in which it was made. Ten editions of this remarkable book followed, and in it we find the poetry most in favor at the court and with the refined society of Spain. It contains no trace of the earliest poetry of the country, but the spirit of the troubadours is everywhere present; the occasional imitations from the Italian are more apparent than successful, and in general it is wearisome and monotonous, overstrained, formal, and cold. But it was impossible that such a state of poetical culture should become permanent in a country so full of stirring events as Spain was in the age that followed the fall of Granada and the discovery of America; everything announced a decided movement in the literature of the nation, and almost everything seemed to favor and facilitate it.

The prose writers of the fifteenth century deserve mention chiefly because they were so much valued in their own age. Their writings are encumbered with the bad taste and pedantry of the time. Among them are Lucena, Alfonso de la Torre, Pulgar, and a few others.

9. THE INQUISITION.—The first period of the history of Spanish literature, now concluded, extends through nearly four centuries, from the first breathings of the poetical enthusiasm of the mass of the people, down to the decay of the courtly literature in the latter part of the reign of Ferdinand and Isabella. The elements of a national literature which it contains—the old ballads, the old chronicles, the old theatre— are of a vigor and promise not to be mistaken. They constitute a mine of more various wealth than had been offered under similar circumstances, at so early a period, to any other people; and they give indications of a subsequent literature that must vindicate for itself a place among the permanent monuments of modern civilization.

The condition of things in Spain, at the close of the reign of Ferdinand and Isabella, seemed to promise a long period of national prosperity. But one institution, destined to check and discourage all intellectual freedom, was already beginning to give token of its great and blighting power. The Christian Spaniards had from an early period been essentially intolerant. The Moors and the Jews were regarded by them with an intense and bitter hatred; the first as their conquerors, and the last for the oppressive claims which their wealth gave them on numbers of the Christian inhabitants; and as enemies of the Cross, it was regarded as a merit to punish them. The establishment of the Inquisition, therefore, in 1481, which had been so effectually used to exterminate the heresy of the Albigenses, met with little opposition. The Jews and the Moors were its first victims, and with them it was permitted to deal unchecked by the power of the state. But the movements of this power were in darkness and secrecy. From the moment when the Inquisition laid its grasp on the object of its suspicions to that of his execution, no voice was heard to issue from its cells. The very witnesses it summoned were punished with death if they revealed the secrets of its dread tribunals; and often of the victim nothing was known but that he had disappeared from his accustomed haunts never again to be seen. The effect was appalling. The imaginations of men were filled with horror at the idea of a power so vast, so noiseless, constantly and invisibly around them, whose blow was death, but whose step could neither be heard nor followed amidst the gloom into which it retreated. From this time, Spanish intolerance took that air of sombre fanaticism which it never afterwards lost. The Inquisition gradually enlarged its jurisdiction, until none was too humble to escape its notice, or too high to be reached by its power. From an inquiry into the private opinions of individuals to an interference with books and the press was but a step, and this was soon taken, hastened by the appearance and progress of the Reformation of Luther.

PERIOD SECOND.

FROM THE ACCESSION OF THE AUSTRIAN FAMILY TO ITS EXTINCTION (1500-1700).

1. THE EFFECT OF INTOLERANCE ON LETTERS.—The central point in Spanish history is the capture of Granada. During nearly eight centuries before that event, the Christians of Spain were occupied with conflicts that developed extraordinary energies, till the whole land was filled to overflowing with a power which had hardly yet been felt in Europe. But no sooner was the last Moorish fortress yielded up, than this accumulated flood broke loose and threatened to overspread the best portions of the civilized world. Charles the Fifth, grandson of Ferdinand and Isabella, inherited not only Spain, but Naples, Sicily, and the Low Countries. The untold wealth of the Indies was already beginning to pour into his treasury. He was elected Emperor of Germany, and he soon began a career of conquest such as had not been imagined since the days of Charlemagne. Success and glory ever waited for him as he advanced, and this brilliant aspect seemed to promise that Spain would erelong be at the head of an empire more extensive than the Roman. But a moral power was at work, destined to divide Europe anew, and the monk Luther was already become a counterpoise to the military master of so many kingdoms. During the hundred and thirty years of struggle, that terminated with the peace of Westphalia, though Spain was far removed from the fields where the most cruel battles of the religious wars were fought, the interest she took in the contest may be seen from the presence of her armies in every part of Europe where it was possible to assail the great movement of the Reformation.

In Spain, the contest with Protestantism was of short duration. By successive decrees the church ordained that all persons who kept in their possession books infected with the doctrines of Luther, and even all who failed to denounce such persons, should be excommunicated, and subjected to cruel and degrading punishments. The power of the Inquisition was consummated in 1546, when the first "Index Expurgatorius" was published in Spain. This was a list of the books that all persons were forbidden to buy, sell, or keep possession of, under penalty of confiscation and death. The tribunals were authorized and required to proceed against all persons supposed to be infected with the new belief, even though they were cardinals, dukes, kings, or emperors,—a power more formidable to the progress of intellectual improvement, than had ever before been granted to any body of men, civil or ecclesiastical.

The portentous authority thus given was freely exercised. The first public auto da fé of Protestants was held in 1559, and many others followed. The number of victims seldom exceeded twenty burned at one time, and fifty or sixty subjected to the severest punishments; but many of those who suffered were among the active and leading minds of the age. Men of learning were particularly obnoxious to suspicion, nor were persons of the holiest lives beyond its reach if they showed a tendency to inquiry. So effectually did the Inquisition accomplish its purpose, that, from the latter part of the reign of Philip II., the voice of religious dissent was scarcely heard in the land. The great body of the Spanish people rejoiced alike in their loyalty and their orthodoxy, and the few who differed from the mass of their fellow-subjects were either silenced by their fears, or sunk away from the surface of society. From that time down to its overthrow, in 1808, this institution was chiefly a political engine.

The result of such extraordinary traits in the national character could not fail to be impressed upon the literature. Loyalty, which had once been so generous an element in the Spanish character and cultivation, was now infected with the ambition of universal empire, and the Christian spirit which gave an air of duty to the wildest forms of adventure in its long contest with misbelief, was now fallen into a bigotry so pervading that the romances of the time are full of it, and the national theatre becomes its grotesque monument.

Of course the literature of Spain produced during this interval—the earlier part of which was the period of the greatest glory the country ever enjoyed—was injuriously affected by so diseased a condition of the national mind. Some departments hardly appeared at all, others were strangely perverted, while yet others, like the drama, ballads, and lyrical verse, grew exuberant and lawless, from the very restraints imposed on the rest. But it would be an error to suppose that these peculiarities in Spanish literature were produced by the direct action either of the Inquisition or of the government. The foundations of this dark work were laid deep and sure in the old Castilian character. It was the result of the excess and misdirection of that very Christian zeal which fought so gloriously against the intrusion of Mohammedanism into Spain, and of that loyalty which sustained the Spanish princes so faithfully through the whole of that terrible contest. This state of things, however, involved the ultimate sacrifice of the best elements of the national character. Only a little more than a century elapsed, before the government that had threatened the world with a universal empire, was hardly able to repel invasion from abroad or maintain its subjects at home. The vigorous poetical life which had been kindled through the country in its ages of trial and adversity, was evidently passing out of the whole Spanish character. The crude wealth from their American possessions sustained, for a century longer, the forms of a miserable political existence; but the earnest faith, the loyalty, the dignity of the Spanish people were gone, and little remained in their place but a weak subserviency to unworthy masters of state, and a low, timid bigotry in whatever related to religion. The old enthusiasm faded away, and the poetry of the country, which had always depended more on the state of the popular feeling than any other poetry of modern times, faded and failed with it.

2. INFLUENCE OF ITALY ON SPANISH LITERATURE.—The political connection between Spain and Italy in the early part of the sixteenth century, and the superior civilization and refinement of the latter country, could not fail to influence Spanish literature. Juan Boscan (d. 1543) was the first to attempt the proper Italian measures as they were then practiced. He established in Spain the Italian iambic, the sonnet, and canzone of Petrarch, the terza rima of Dante, and the flowing octaves of Ariosto. As an original poet, the talents of Boscan were not of the highest order.

Garcilasso de la Vega (1503-1536), the contemporary and friend of Boscan, united with him in introducing an Italian school of poetry, which has been an important part of Spanish literature ever since. The poems of Garcilasso are remarkable for their gentleness and melancholy, and his versification is uncommonly sweet, and well adapted to the tender and sad character of his poetry.

The example set by Boscan and Garcilasso so well suited the demands of the age, that it became as much a fashion at the court of Charles V. to write in the Italian manner, as it did to travel in Italy, or make a military campaign there. Among those who did most to establish the Italian influence in Spanish literature was Diego de Mendoza (1503-1575), a scholar, a soldier, a poet, a diplomatist, a statesman, a historian, and a man who rose to great consideration in whatever he undertook. One of his earliest works, "Lazarillo de Tormes," the auto-biography of a boy, little Lazarus, was written with the object of satirizing all classes of society under the character of a servant, who sees them in undress behind the scenes. The style of this work is bold, rich, and idiomatic, and some of its sketches are among the most fresh and spirited that can be found in the whole class of prose works of fiction. It has been more or less a favorite in all languages, down to the present day, and was the foundation of a class of fictions which the "Gil Blas" of Le Sage has made famous throughout the world. Mendoza, after having filled many high offices under Charles V., when Philip ascended the throne, was, for some slight offense, banished from the court as a madman. In the poems which he occasionally wrote during his exile, he gave the influence of his example to the new form introduced by Boscan and Garcilasso. At a later period he occupied himself in writing some portions of the history of his native city, Granada, relating to the rebellion of the Moors (1568-1570). Familiar with everything of which he speaks, there is a freshness and power in his sketches that carry us at once into the midst of the scenes and events he describes. "The War of Granada" is an imitation of Sallust. Nothing in the style of the old chronicles is to be compared to it, and little in any subsequent period is equal to it for manliness, vigor, and truth.

3. HISTORY.—The imperfect chronicles of the age of Charles V. were surpassed in importance by the histories or narratives, more or less ample, of the discoverers of the western world, all of which were interesting from their subject and their materials. First in the foreground of this picturesque group stands Fernando Cortes (1485-1554), of whose voluminous documents the most remarkable were five long reports to the Emperor on the affairs of Mexico.

The marvelous achievements of Cortes, however, were more fully recorded by Gomara (b. 1510), the oldest of the regular historians of the New World. His principal works are the "History of the Indies," chiefly devoted to Columbus and the conquest of Peru, and the "Chronicle of New Spain," which is merely the history and life of Cortes, under which title it has since been republished. The style of Gomara is easy and flowing, but his work was of no permanent authority, in consequence of the great and frequent mistakes into which he was led by those who were too much a part of the story to relate it fairly. These mistakes Bernal Diaz, an old soldier who had been long in the New World, set himself at work to correct, and the book he thus produced, with many faults, has something of the honest nationality, and the fervor and faith of the old chronicles.

Among those who have left records of their adventures in America, one of the most considerable is Oviedo (1478-1557), who for nearly forty years devoted himself to the affairs of the Spanish colonies in which he resided. His most important work is "The Natural and General History of the Indies," a series of accounts of the natural condition, the aboriginal inhabitants, and the political affairs of the Spanish provinces in America, as they stood in the middle of the sixteenth century. It is of great value as a vast repository of facts, and not without merit as a composition.

In Las Casas (1474-1566) Oviedo had a formidable rival, who, pursuing the same course of inquiries in the New World, came to conclusions quite opposite. Convinced from his first arrival in Hispaniola that the gentle nature and slight frames of the natives were subjected to toil and servitude so hard that they were wasting away, he thenceforth devoted his life to their emancipation. He crossed the Atlantic six times, in order to persuade the government of Charles V. to ameliorate their condition, and always with more or less success. His earliest work, "A Short Account of the Ruin of the Indies," was a tract in which the sufferings and wrongs of the Indians were doubtless much overstated by the zeal of its author, but it awakened all Europe to a sense of the injustice it set forth. Other short treatises followed, but none ever produced so deep and solemn an effect on the world.

The great work of Las Casas, however, still remains inedited,—"A General History of the Indies from 1492 to 1525." Like his other works, it shows marks of haste and carelessness, but its value is great, notwithstanding his too fervent zeal for the Indians. It is a repository to which Herrera, and, through him, all subsequent historians of the Indies resorted for materials, and without which the history of the earliest period of the Spanish settlements in America cannot even now be written.

There are numerous other works on the discovery and conquest of America, but they are of less consequence than those already mentioned. As a class, they resemble the old chronicles, though they announce the approach of the more regular form of history.

4. THE DRAMA.—Before the middle of the sixteenth century, the Mysteries were the only dramatic exhibitions of Spain. They were upheld by ecclesiastical power, and the people, as such, had no share in them. The first attempt to create a popular drama was made by Lope de Rueda, a goldbeater of Seville, who flourished between 1544 and 1567, and who became both a dramatic writer and an actor. His works consist of comedies, pastoral colloquies, and dialogues in prose and verse. They were written for representation, and were acted before popular audiences by a strolling company led about by Lope de Rueda himself. Naturalness of thought, the most easy, idiomatic Castilian terms of expression, a good-humored gayety, a strong sense of the ridiculous, and a happy imitation of the tone and manners of common life, are the prominent characteristics of these plays, and their author was justly reckoned by Cervantes and Lope de Vega as the true founder of the popular national theatre. The ancient simplicity and severity of the Spanish people had now been superseded by the luxury and extravagance which the treasures of America had introduced; the ecclesiastical fetters imposed on opinion and conscience had so connected all ideas of morality and religion with inquisitorial severity, that the mind longed for an escape, and gladly took refuge in amusements where these unwelcome topics had no place. So far, the number of dramas was small, and these had been written in forms so different and so often opposed to each other as to have little consistency or authority, and to offer no sufficient indication of the channel in which the dramatic literature of the country was at last to flow. It was reserved for Lope de Vega to seize, with the instinct of genius, the crude and unsettled elements of the existing drama, and to form from them, and from the abundant and rich inventions of his own overflowing fancy, a drama which, as a whole, was unlike anything that had preceded it, and yet was so truly national and rested so faithfully on tradition, that it was never afterwards disturbed, till the whole literature of which it was so brilliant a part was swept away with it.

Lope de Vega (1562-1635) early manifested extraordinary powers and a marvelous poetic genius. After completing his education, he became secretary to the Duke of Alba. Engaging in an affair of honor, in which he dangerously wounded his adversary, he was obliged to fly and to remain several years in exile. On his return to Madrid, religious and patriotic zeal induced him to join the expedition of the Invincible Armada for the invasion of England, and he was one of the few who returned in safety to his native country. Domestic afflictions soon after determined him to renounce the world and to enter holy orders. Notwithstanding this change, he continued to cultivate poetry to the close of his long life, with so wonderful a facility that a drama of more than two thousand lines, intermingled with sonnets and enlivened with all kinds of unexpected incidents and intrigues, frequently cost him no more than the labor of a single day. He composed more rapidly than his amanuensis could transcribe, and the managers of the theatres left him no time to copy or correct his compositions; so that his plays were frequently represented within twenty- four hours after their first conception. His fertility of invention and his talent for versification are unparalleled in the history of literature. He produced two thousand two hundred dramas, of which only about five hundred were printed. His other poems were published at Madrid in 1776, in twenty-one volumes quarto. His prodigious literary labors produced him nearly as much money as glory; but his liberality to the poor and his taste for pomp soon dissipated his wealth, and after living in splendor, he died almost in poverty.

No poet has ever in his lifetime enjoyed such honors. Eager crowds surrounded him whenever he showed himself abroad, and saluted him with the appellation of Prodigy of Nature. Every eye was fixed on him, and children followed him with cries of pleasure. He was chosen President of the Spiritual College at Madrid, and the pope conferred upon him high marks of distinction, not only for his poetical talents, but for his enthusiastic zeal for the interests of religion. He was also appointed one of the familiars of the Inquisition, an office to which the highest honor was at that time attached.

The fame of Lope de Vega rests upon his dramas alone, and in these there is no end to their diversity, the subjects varying from the deepest tragedy to the broadest farce, from the solemn mysteries of religion to the loosest frolics of common life, and the style embracing every variety of tone and measure known to the language of the country. In these dramas, too, the sacred and secular, the tragic and comic, the heroic and vulgar, all run into each other, until it seems that there is neither separate form nor distinction attributed to any of them.

The first class of plays that Lope seems to have invented, and the one which still remains most popular in Spain, are dramas of the cloak and sword, so called from the picturesque national dress of the fashionable class of society from which the principal characters were selected. Their main principle is gallantry. The story is almost always involved and intriguing, accompanied with an under-plot and parody on the principal parties, formed by the servants and other inferior persons. The action is chiefly carried on by lovers full of romance, or by low characters, whose wit is mixed with buffoonery.

To the second class belong the historical or heroic dramas. Their characters are usually kings, princes, and personages in the highest rank of life, and their prevailing tone is imposing and tragical. A love story, filled as usual with hair-breadth escapes, jealous quarrels, and questions of honor, runs through nearly every one of them; but truth, in regard to facts, manners, and customs, is entirely disregarded.

The third class contains the dramas founded on the manners of common life; of these there are but few. Lope de Vega would doubtless have confined himself to these three forms, but that the interference of the church for a time forbade the representations of the secular drama, and he therefore turned his attention to the composition of religious plays. The subjects of these are taken from the Scriptures, or lives of the saints, and they approach so near to the comedies of intrigue, that but for the religious passages they would seem to belong to them. His "Sacramental Acts" was another form of the religious drama which was still more grotesque than the last. They were performed in the streets during the religious ceremonies of the Corpus Christi. The spiritual dramas of Lope de Vega are a heterogeneous mixture of bright examples of piety, according to the views of the age and country, and the wildest flights of imagination, combined into a whole by a fine poetic spirit.

The variety and inexhaustible fertility of the genius of this writer constituted the corner-stone of his success, and did much to make him the monarch of the stage while he lived, and the great master of the national theatre ever since. But there were other circumstances that aided in producing these surprising results, the first of which is the principle, that runs through all his plays, of making all other interests subordinate to the interest of the story. For this purpose he used dialogue rather to bring out the plot than the characters, and to this end also he sacrificed dramatic probabilities and possibilities, geography, history, and a decent morality.

Another element which he established in the Spanish drama, was the comic under-plot, and the witty gracioso or droll, the parody of the heroic character of the play. Much of his power over the people of his time is also to be found in the charm of his versification, which was always fresh, flowing, and effective. The success of Lope de Vega was in proportion to his rare powers. For the forty or fifty years that he wrote, nobody else was willingly heard upon the stage, and his dramas were performed in France, Italy, and even in Constantinople. His extraordinary talent was nearly allied to improvisation, and it required but a little more indulgence of his feeling and fancy to have made him not only an improvisator, but the most remarkable one that ever lived.

Nearly thirty dramatic writers followed Lope de Vega, but the school was not received with universal applause. In its gross extravagances and irregularities, severe critics found just cause for complaint. The opposition of the church to the theatre, however, which had been for a time so formidable, had at last given way, and from the beginning of the seventeenth century, the popular drama was too strong to be subjected either to classical criticism or ecclesiastical rule.

Calderon de la Barca (1600-1681) was the great successor and rival of Lope de Vega. At the age of thirty-two, his reputation as a poet was an enviable one. Soon after, when the death of Lope de Vega left the theatre without a master, he was formally attached to the court for the purpose of furnishing dramas to be represented in the royal theatres. In 1651, he followed the example of Lope de Vega and other men of letters of his time, by entering a religious brotherhood. Many ecclesiastical dignities were conferred upon him, but he did not, however, on this account intermit his dramatic labors, but continued through his long life to write for the theatres, for the court, and for the churches. Many dramas of Calderon were printed without his consent, and many were attributed to him which he never wrote. His reputation as a dramatic poet rests on the seventy-three sacramental autos, and one hundred and eight dramas, which are known to be his. The autos, from the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, were among the favorite amusements of the people; but in the age of Calderon they were much increased in number and importance; they had become attractive to all classes of society, and were represented with great luxury and at great expense in the streets of all the larger cities. A procession, in which the king and court appeared, preceded by the fantastic figures of giants, with music, banners, and religious shows, followed the sacrament through the street, and then, before the houses of the great officers of state, the autos were performed; the giants made sport for the multitude, and the entertainment concluded with music and dancing. Sometimes the procession was headed by the figure of a monster called the Tarasca, half serpent in form, borne by men concealed in its cumbrous bulk, and surmounted by another figure representing the woman of Babylon, —all so managed as to fill with wonder and terror the country people who crowded round it, and whose hats and caps were generally snatched away by the grinning beast, and became the lawful prize of his conductors. This exhibition was at first rude and simple, but under the influence of Lope de Vega it became a well-defined, popular entertainment, divided into three parts, each distinct from the other. First came the loa, a kind of prologue; then the entremes, a kind of interlude or farce; and last, the autos sacramentales, or sacred acts themselves, which were more grave in their tone, though often whimsical and extravagant.

The seventy-three autos written by Calderon are all allegorical, and by the music and show with which they abound, they closely approach to the opera. They are upon a great variety of subjects, and indicate by their structure that elaborate and costly machinery must have been used in their representation. They are crowded with such personages as Sin, Death, Judaism, Mercy, and Charity, and the purpose of all is to set forth the Real Presence in the Eucharist. The great enemy of mankind of course fills a large place in them. Almost all of them contain passages of striking lyrical poetry.

The secular plays of Calderon can scarcely be classified, for in many of them even more than two forms of the drama are mingled. To the principle of making a story that should sustain the interest throughout, Calderon sacrificed almost as much as Lope de Vega did. To him facts are never obstacles. Coriolanus is a general under Romulus; the Danube is placed between Sweden and Russia; and Herodotus is made to describe America. But in these dramas we rarely miss the interest and charm of a dramatic story, which provokes the curiosity and enchains the attention.

In the dramas of the Cloak and Sword the plots of Calderon are intricate. He excelled in the accumulation of surprises, in plunging his characters into one difficulty after another, maintaining the interest to the last. In style and versification Calderon has high merits, though they are occasionally mingled with the defects of his age. He added no new forms to dramatic composition, nor did he much modify those which had been already settled by Lope de Vega; but he showed greater skill in the arrangement of his incidents, and more poetry in the structure and tendency of his dramas. To his elevated tone we owe much of what distinguishes Calderon from his predecessors, and nearly all that is most individual in his merits and defects. In carrying out his theory of the national drama, he often succeeds and often fails; and when he succeeds, he sets before us an idealized drama, resting on the noblest elements of the Spanish national character, and one which, with all its unquestionable defects, is to be placed among the extraordinary phenomena of modern poetry.

The most brilliant period of the Spanish drama falls within the reign of Philip II., which extended from 1620 to 1665, and embraced the last years of the life of Lope de Vega, and the thirty most fortunate years of the life of Calderon. After this period a change begins to be apparent; for the school of Lope was that of a drama in the freshness and buoyancy of youth, while that of Calderon belongs to the season of its maturity and gradual decay. The many writers who were either contemporary with Lope de Vega and Calderon, or who succeeded them, had little influence on the character of the theatre. This, in its proper outlines, always remained as it was left by these great masters, who maintained an almost unquestioned control over it while they lived, and at their death left a character impressed upon it, which it never lost till it ceased to exist altogether.

When Lope de Vega first appeared as a dramatic writer at Madrid, the only theatres he found were two unsheltered courtyards, which depended on such companies of strolling players as occasionally visited the capital. Before he died, there were, besides the court-yards in Madrid, several theatres of great magnificence in the royal palaces, and many thousand actors; and half a century later, the passion for dramatic representations had spread into every part of the kingdom, and there was hardly a village that did not possess a theatre.

During the whole of the successful period of the drama, the representations took place in the daytime. Dancing was early an important part of the theatrical exhibitions in Spain, even of the religious, and its importance has continued down to the present day. From the earliest antiquity it was the favorite amusement of the rude inhabitants of the country, and in modern times dancing has been to Spain what music has been to Italy, a passion with the whole population.

In all its forms and subsidiary attractions, the Spanish drama was essentially a popular entertainment, governed by the popular will. Its purpose was to please all equally, and it was not only necessary that the play should be interesting; it was, above all, required that it should be Spanish, and, therefore, whatever the subject might be, whether actual or mythological, Greek or Roman, the characters were always represented as Castilian, and Castilian of the seventeenth century. It was the same with their costumes. Coriolanus appeared in the costume of Don Juan of Austria, and Aristotle came on the stage dressed like a Spanish Abbé, with curled periwig and buckles on his shoes.

The Spanish theatre, therefore, in many of its characteristics and attributes, stands by itself. It is entirely national, it takes no cognizance of ancient example, and it borrowed nothing from the drama of France, Italy, or England. Founded on traits of national character, with all its faults, it maintained itself as long as that character existed in its original attributes, and even now it remains one of the most striking and interesting portions of modern literature.

5. ROMANCES AND TALES.—Hitherto the writers of Spain had been little known, except in their own country; but we are now introduced to an author whose fame is bounded by no language and no country, and whose name is not alone familiar to men of taste and learning, but to almost every class of society.

Cervantes (1547-1616), though of noble family, was born in poverty and obscurity, not far from Madrid. When he was about twenty-one years of age, he attached himself to the person of Cardinal Aquaviva, with whom he visited Rome. He soon after enlisted as a common soldier in the war against the Turks, and, in the great battle of Lepanto, 1572, he received a wound which deprived him of the use of his left hand and arm, and obliged him to quit the military profession. On his way home he was captured by pirates, carried to Algiers, and sold for a slave. Here he passed five years full of adventure and suffering. At length his ransom was effected, and he returned home to find his father dead, his family reduced to a still more bitter poverty by his ransom, and himself friendless and unknown. He withdrew from the world to devote himself to literature, and to gain a subsistence by his pen.

One of the first productions of Cervantes was the pastoral romance of "Galatea." This was followed by several dramas, the principal of which is founded on the tragical fate of Numantia. Notwithstanding its want of dramatic skill, it may be cited as a proof of the author's poetical talent, and as a bold effort to raise the condition of the stage.

After many years of poverty and embarrassment, in 1605, when Cervantes had reached his fiftieth year, he published the first part of "Don Quixote." The success of this effort was incredible. Many thousand copies are said to have been printed during the author's lifetime. It was translated into various languages, and eulogized by every class of readers, yet it occasioned little improvement in the pecuniary circumstances of the author. In 1615, he published the second part of the same work, and, in the year following, his eventful and troubled life drew to its close.

"Don Quixote," of all the works of all modern times, bears most deeply the impression of the national character it represents, and it has in return enjoyed a degree of national favor never granted to any other. The object of Cervantes in writing it was, as he himself declares, "to render abhorred of men the false and absurd stories contained in books of chivalry." The fanaticism for these romances was so great in Spain during the sixteenth century, and they were deemed so noxious, that the burning of all copies extant in the country was earnestly asked for by the Cortes. To destroy a passion that had struck its roots so deeply in the character of all classes of men, to break up the only reading which, at that time, was fashionable and popular, was a bold undertaking, yet one in which Cervantes succeeded. No book of chivalry was written after the appearance of "Don Quixote;" and from that time to the present they have been constantly disappearing, until they are now among the rarest of literary curiosities,—a solitary instance of the power of genius to destroy, by a well-timed blow, an entire department of literature.

In accomplishing this object, Cervantes represents "Don Quixote" as a country gentleman of La Mancha, full of Castilian honor and enthusiasm, but so completely crazed by reading the most famous books of chivalry, that he not only believes them to be true, but feels himself called upon to become the impossible knight-errant they describe, and actually goes forth into the world, like them, to defend the oppressed and avenge the injured. To complete his chivalrous equipment, which he had begun by fitting up for himself a suit of armor strange to his century, he took an esquire out of his neighborhood, a middle-aged peasant, ignorant, credulous, and good-natured, but shrewd enough occasionally to see the folly of their position. The two sally forth from their native village in search of adventures, of which the excited imagination of the knight— turning windmills into giants, solitary turrets into castles, and galley slaves into oppressed gentlemen—finds abundance wherever he goes, while the esquire translates them all into the plain prose of truth, with a simplicity strikingly contrasted with the lofty dignity and the magnificent illusions of the knight. After a series of ridiculous discomfitures, the two are at last brought home like madmen to their native village.

Ten years later, Cervantes published the second part of Don Quixote, which is even better than the first. It shows more vigor and freedom, the invention and the style of thought are richer, and the finish more exact. Both Don Quixote and Sancho are brought before us like such living realities, that at this moment the figures of the crazed, gaunt, and dignified knight, and of his round, selfish, and most amusing esquire, dwell bodied forth in the imagination of more, among all conditions of men throughout Christendom, than any other of the creations of human talent. In this work Cervantes has shown himself of kindred to all times and all lands, to the humblest as well as to the highest degrees of cultivation, and he has received in return, beyond all other writers, a tribute of sympathy and admiration from the universal spirit of humanity.

This romance, which Cervantes threw so carelessly from him, and which he regarded only as a bold effort to break up the absurd taste for the fancies of chivalry, has been established by an uninterrupted and an unquestioned success ever since, as the oldest classical specimen of romantic fiction, and as one of the most remarkable monuments of modern genius. But Cervantes is entitled to a higher glory: it should be borne in mind that this delightful romance was not the result of a youthful exuberance of feeling, and a happy external condition; with all its unquenchable and irresistible humor, its bright views, and its cheerful trust in goodness and virtue, it was written in his old age, at the conclusion of a life which had been marked at nearly every step with struggle, disappointment, and calamity; it was begun in prison, and finished when he felt the hand of death pressing cold and heavy upon his heart. If this be remembered as we read, we may feel what admiration and reverence are due, not only to the living power of Don Quixote, but to the character and genius of Cervantes; if it be forgotten or underrated, we shall fail in regard to both.

The first form of romantic fiction which succeeded the romances of chivalry was that of prose pastorals, which was introduced into Spain by Montemayor, a Portuguese, who lived, probably, between 1520 and 1561. To divert his mind from the sorrow of an unrequited attachment, he composed a romance entitled "Diana," which, with numerous faults, possesses a high degree of merit. It was succeeded by many similar tales.

The next form of Spanish prose fiction, and the one which has enjoyed a more permanent regard, is that known as tales in the gusto picaresco, or style of the rogues. As a class, they constitute a singular exhibition of character, and are as separate and national as anything in modern literature. The first fiction of this class was the "Lazarillo de Tormes" of Mendoza, already spoken of, published in 1554,—a bold, unfinished sketch of the life of a rogue from the very lowest condition of society. Forty-five years afterwards this was followed by the "Guzman de Alfarache" of Aleman, the most ample portraiture of its class to be found in Spanish literature. It is chiefly curious and interesting because it shows us, in the costume of the times, the life of an ingenious Machiavelian rogue, who is never at a loss for an expedient, and who speaks of himself always as an honest man. The work was received with great favor, and translated into all the languages of Europe.

But the work which most plainly shows the condition of social life which produced this class of tales, is the "Life of Estevanillo Gonzalez," first printed in 1646. It is the autobiography of a buffoon who was long in the service of Piccolomini, the great general of the Thirty Years' War. The brilliant success of these works at home and abroad subsequently produced the Gil Blas of Le Sage, an imitation more brilliant than any of the originals that it followed.

The serious and historical fictions produced in Spain were limited in number, and with few exceptions deserved little favor. Short stories or tales were more successful than any other form of prose-fiction during the latter part of the sixteenth, and the whole of the seventeenth century. They belonged to the spirit of their own times and to the state of society in which they appeared. Taken together, the number of fictions in Spanish literature is enormous; but what is more remarkable than their multitude, is the fact that they were produced when the rest of Europe, with a partial exception in favor of Italy, was not yet awakened to corresponding efforts of the imagination. The creative spirit, however, soon ceased, and a spirit of French imitation took its place.

6. HISTORICAL NARRATIVE POEMS.—Epic poetry, from its dignity and pretensions, is almost uniformly placed at the head of the different divisions of a nation's literature. But in Spain little has been achieved in this department that is worthy of memory. The old half-epic poem of the Cid—the first attempt at narration in the languages of modern Europe that deserves the name—is one of the most remarkable outbreaks of poetical and national enthusiasm on record. The few similar attempts that followed during the next three centuries, while they serve to mark the progress of Spanish culture, show little of the power manifested in the Cid.

In the reign of Charles V., the poets of the time evidently imagined that to them was assigned the task of celebrating the achievements in the Old World and in the New, which had raised their country to the first place among the powers of Europe. There were written, therefore, during this and the succeeding reigns, an extraordinary number of epic and narrative poems on subjects connected with ancient and modern Spanish glory, but they all belong to patriotism rather than to poetry; the best of these come with equal pretension into the province of history. There is but one long poem of this class which obtained much regard when it appeared, and which has been remembered ever since, the "Araucana." The author of this work, Ercilla (1533-1595), was a page of Philip the Second, and accompanied him to England on the occasion of his marriage with Mary. News having arrived that the Araucans, a tribe of Indians in Chili, had revolted against the Spanish authority, Ercilla joined the adventurous expedition that was sent out to subdue them. In the midst of his exploits he conceived the plan of writing a narrative of the war in the form of an epic poem. After the tumult of a battle, or the fatigues of a march, he devoted the hours of the night to his literary labors, wielding the pen and sword by turns, and often obliged to write on pieces of skin or scraps of paper so small as to contain only a few lines. In this poem the descriptive powers of Ercilla are remarkable, and his characters, especially those of the American chiefs, are drawn with force and distinctness. The whole poem is pervaded by that deep sense of loyalty, always a chief ingredient in Spanish honor and heroism, and which, in Ercilla, seems never to have been chilled by the ingratitude of the master to whom he devoted his life, and to whose glory he consecrated this poem.

These narrative and heroic poems continued long in favor in Spain, and they retained to the last those ambitious feelings of national greatness which had given them birth. Devoted to the glory of their country, they were produced when the national character was on the decline; and as they sprang more directly from that character, and depended more on its spirit than did the similar poetry of any other people in modern times, so they now visibly declined with them.

7. LYRIC POETRY.—The number of authors in the various classes of Spanish lyric poetry, whose works have been preserved between the beginning of the reign of Charles V. and the end of that of the last of his race, is not less than a hundred and twenty; but the number of those who were successful is small. A little of what was written by the Argensolas, more of Herrera, and nearly the whole of the Bachiller de la Torre and Luis de Leon, with occasional efforts of Lope de Vega and Quevedo, and single odes of other writers, make up what gives its character to the graver and less popular portion of Spanish lyric poetry. Their writings form a body of poetry, not large, but one that from its living, national feeling on the one side, and its dignity on the other, may be placed without question among the most successful efforts of modern literature.

The Argensolas were two brothers who flourished in Spain at the beginning of the seventeenth century; both occupy a high place in this department of poetry. The original poems of Luis de Leon (1528-1591) fill no more than a hundred pages, but there is hardly a line of them which has not its value, and the whole taken together are to be placed at the head of Spanish lyric poetry. They are chiefly religious, and the source of their inspiration is the Hebrew Scriptures. Herrera (1534-1597) is the earliest classic ode writer in modern literature, and his poems are characterized by dignity of language, harmony of versification, and elevation of ideas. Luis de Leon and Herrera are considered the two great masters of Spanish lyric poetry.

Quevedo (1580-1645) was successful in many departments of letters. The most prominent characteristics of his verse are a broad, grotesque humor, and a satire often imitated from the ancients. His amatory and religious poems are occasionally marked by extreme beauty and tenderness. The works upon which his reputation principally rests, however, are in prose, and belong to theology and metaphysics rather than to elegant literature. They were produced during the weary years of an unjust imprisonment. His prose satires are the most celebrated of his compositions, and by these he will always be remembered throughout the world.

In the early part of the seventeenth century there arose a sect who attempted to create a new epoch in Spanish poetry, by affecting an exquisite refinement, and who ran into the most ridiculous extravagance and pedantry. The founder of this "cultivated style," as it was called, was Luis Gongora (1561-1627), and his name, like that of Marini in Italy, has become a byword in literature. The style he introduced became at once fashionable at court, and it struck so deep root in the soil of the whole country, that it has not yet been completely eradicated. The most odious feature of this style is, that it consists entirely of metaphors, so heaped upon one another that it is as difficult to find out the meaning hidden under their grotesque mass, as if it were a series of confused riddles. The success of this style was very great, and inferior poets bowed to it throughout the country.

8. SATIRICAL AND OTHER POETRY.—Satirical poetry never enjoyed a wide success in Spain. The nation has always been too grave and dignified to endure the censure it implied. It was looked upon with, distrust, and thought contrary to the conventions of good society to indulge in its composition. Neither was elegiac poetry extensively cultivated. The Spanish temperament was little fitted to the subdued, simple, and gentle tone of the proper elegy. The echoes of pastoral poetry in Spain are heard far back among the old ballads; but the Italian forms were early introduced and naturalized. Two Portuguese writers, Montemayor and Miranda, were most successful in this department of poetry. Equally characteristic of the Spanish genius, with its pastorals, were the short epigrammatic poems which appeared through the best age of its literature. They are generally in the truest tone of popular verse. Of didactic poetry, there were many irregular varieties; but the popular character of Spanish poetry, and the severe nature of the ecclesiastical and political constitutions of Spain, were unfavorable to the development of this form of verse, and unlikely to tolerate it on any important subject. It remained, therefore, one of the feeblest and least successful departments of the national literature.

In the seventeenth century, ballads had become the delight of the whole Spanish people. The soldier solaced himself with them in his tent, the maiden danced to them on the green, the lover sang them for his serenade, the street beggar chanted them for alms; they entered into the sumptuous entertainments of the nobility, the holiday services of the church, and into the orgies of thieves and vagabonds. No poetry of modern times has been so widely spread through all classes of society, and none has so entered into the national character. They were often written by authors otherwise little known, and they were always found in the works of those poets of note who desired to stand well with the mass of their countrymen.

9. HISTORY AND OTHER PROSE WRITINGS.—The fathers of Spanish history are Zurita and Morales. Zurita (1512-1580) was the author of the "Annals of Aragon," a work more important to Spanish history than any that had preceded it. Morales (1513-1591) was historiographer to the crown of Castile, and his unfinished history of that country is marked by much general ability. Contemporary with these writers was Mendoza, already mentioned. The honor of being the first historian of the country, however, belongs to Mariana (1536-1623), a foundling who was educated a Jesuit. His main occupation for the last thirty or forty years of his life was his great "History of Spain." There is an air of good faith in his accounts and a vividness in his details which are singularly attractive. If not in all respects the most trustworthy of annals, it is at least the most remarkable union of picturesque chronicling with sober history that the world has ever seen. Sandoval (d. 1621) took up the history of Spain where Mariana left it; but while his is a work of authority, it is unattractive in style. "The General History of the Indies," by Herrera, is a work of great value, and the one on which the reputation of the author as a historian chiefly rests.

One of the most pleasing of the minor Spanish histories is Argensola's account of the Moluccas. It is full of the traditions found among the natives by the Portuguese when they first landed there, and of the wild adventures that followed when they had taken possession of the island. Garcilasso de la Vega, the son of one of the unscrupulous conquerors of Peru, descended on his mother's side from the Incas, wrote the "History of Florida," of which the adventures of De Soto constitute the most brilliant portion. His "Commentaries on Peru" is a striking and interesting work.

The last of the historians of eminence in the elder school of Spanish history was Solis, whose "Conquest of Mexico" is beautifully written, and as it was flattering to the national history, it was at once successful, and has enjoyed an unimpaired popularity down to our times.

The spirit of political tyranny in the government, and of religious tyranny in the Inquisition, now more than ever united, were more hostile to bold and faithful inquiry in the department of history than in almost any other. Still, the historians of this period were not unworthy of the national character. Their works abound in feeling rather than philosophy, and are written in a style that marks, not so much the peculiar genius of their authors, perhaps, as that of the country that gave them birth. Although they may not be entirely classical, they are entirely Spanish; and what they want in finish and grace they make up in picturesqueness and originality.

In one form of didactic composition, Spain stands in advance of other countries: that of proverbs, which Cervantes has happily called "short sentences drawn from long experience." Spanish proverbs can be traced back to the earliest times. Although twenty-four thousand have been collected, many thousands still remain known only among the traditions of the humbler classes of society that have given birth to them all.

From the early part of the seventeenth century, Spanish prose became infected with that pedantry and affectation already spoken of as Gongorism, or "the cultivated style;" and from this time, everything in prose as well as in poetry announced that corrupted taste which both precedes and hastens the decay of a literature, and which in the latter half of the seventeenth century was in Spain but the concomitant of a general decline in the arts and the gradual degradation of the monarchy. No country in Christendom had fallen from such a height of power as that which Spain occupied in the time of Charles V. into such an abyss of degradation as she reached when Charles II., the last of the house of Austria, ceased to reign. The old religion of the country, the most prominent of all the national characteristics, was now so perverted from its true character by intolerance that it had become a means of oppression, such as Europe never before witnessed. The principle of loyalty, now equally perverted and mischievous, had sunk into servile submission, and as we approach the conclusion of the century, the Inquisition and the despotism seem to have cast their blight over everything.

PERIOD THIRD.

THE ACCESSION OF THE BOURBON FAMILY TO THE PRESENT TIME (1700-1885).

1. FRENCH INFLUENCE ON THE LITERATURE OF SPAIN.—The death of Charles II., in 1700, was followed by the War of the Succession between the houses of Hapsburg and Bourbon, which lasted thirteen years. It was terminated by the treaty of Utrecht and the accession of Philip V., the grandson of Louis XIV. Under his reign the influence of France became apparent in the customs of the country. The Academy of Madrid was soon established in imitation of that of Paris, with the object of establishing and cultivating the purity of the Castilian language. The first work published by this association was a Dictionary, which has continued in successive editions to be the proper standard of the language. At this time French began to be spoken in the elegant society of the court and the capital, translations from the French were multiplied, and at last, a poetical system, founded on the critical doctrine of Boileau, prevalent in France, was formally introduced into the country by Luzan, in his "Art of Poetry," which from its first appearance (1737) exercised a controlling authority at the court, and over the few writers of reputation then to be found in the country. Though the works of Luzan offered a remedy for the bad taste which had accompanied and in no small degree hastened the decline of the national taste, they did not lay a foundation for advancement in literature. The national mind had become dwarfed for want of its appropriate nourishment; the moral and physical sciences that had been advancing for a hundred years throughout Europe, were forbidden to cross the Pyrenees. The scholastic philosophy was still maintained as the highest form of intellectual culture; the system of Copernicus was looked upon as contrary to the inspired record; while the philosophy of Bacon and the very existence of mathematical science were generally unknown even to the graduates of universities. It seemed as if the faculties of thinking and reasoning were becoming extinct in Spain.

2. THE DAWN OF SPANISH LITERATURE IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.—The first effort for intellectual emancipation was made by a monk, Benito Feyjoo (1676-1764), who, having made himself acquainted with the truths brought to light by Galileo, Bacon, Newton, Leibnitz, and Pascal, devoted his life to the labor of diffusing them among his countrymen. The opposition raised against him only drew to his works the attention he desired. Even the Inquisition summoned him in vain, for it was impossible to question that he was a sincere and devout Catholic, and he had been careful not to interfere with any of the abuses sanctioned by the church. Before his death he had the pleasure of seeing that an impulse in the right direction had been imparted to the national mind.

One of the striking indications of advancement was an attack upon the style of popular preaching, which was now in a state of scandalous degradation. The assailant was Isîa (1703-1781), a Jesuit, whose "History of Friar Gerund" is a satirical romance, slightly resembling Don Quixote in its plan, describing one of those bombastic orators of the age. It was from the first successful in its object of destroying the evil at which it aimed, and preachers of the class of Friar Gerund soon found themselves without an audience.

The policy of Charles III. (1759-1788) was highly favorable to the progress of literature. He abridged the power of the Inquisition, and forbade the condemnation of any book till its writer or publisher had been heard in its defense; he invited the suggestion of improved plans of study, made arrangements for popular education, and raised the tone of instruction in the institutions of learning. Finally, perceiving the Jesuits to be the most active opponents of these reforms, he expelled them from every part of his dominions, breaking up their schools, and confiscating their revenues. During his reign, intellectual life and health were infused into the country, and its powers, which had been so long wasting away, were revived and renewed.

Among the writers of this age are Moratin the elder (1737-1780), whose poems are marked by purity of language and harmony of versification; and Yriarte (1750-1791), who was most successful in fables, which he applied, to the correction of the faults and follies of literary men. To this period may also be referred the school of Salamanca, whose object was to combine in literature the power and richness of the old writers of the time of the Philips with the severer taste then prevailing on the continent. Melendez (1754-1817), who was the founder of this school, devoted his muse to the joys and sorrows of rustic love, and the leisure and amusements of country life. Nothing can surpass some of his descriptions in the graceful delineation of tender feeling, and his verse is considered in sweetness and native strength, to be such a return to the tones of Garcilasso, as had not been heard in Spain for more than a century. Gonzalez (d. 1794), who, with happy success, imitated Luis de Leon, Jovellanos (1744-1811), who exerted great influence on the literary and political condition of his country, and Quintana (b. 1772), whose poems are distinguished by their noble and patriotic tone, are considered among the principal representatives of the school of Salamanca.

The most considerable movement of the eighteenth century in Spain, is that relating to the theatre, which it was earnestly attempted to subject to the rules then prevailing on the French stage. The Spanish theatre, in fact, was now at its lowest ebb, and wholly in the hands of the populace. The plays acted for public amusement were still represented as they had been in the seventeenth century,—in open court-yards, in the daytime, without any pretense of scenery or of dramatic ingenuity. Soon after, through the influence of Isabella, the second wife of Philip V., improvements were made in the external arrangements and architecture of the theatres; yet, owing to the exclusive favor shown to the opera by the Italian queens, the old spirit continued to prevail.

In the middle of the eighteenth century a reform of the comedy and tragedy was undertaken by Montiano and others, who introduced the French style in dramatic compositions, and from that time an active contest went on between the innovators and the followers of the old drama. The latter was attacked, in 1762, by Moratin the elder, who wrote against it, and especially against the autos sacramentales, showing that such wild, coarse, and blasphemous exhibitions, as they generally were, ought not to be tolerated in a civilized and religious community. So far as the autos were concerned, Moratin was successful; they were prohibited in 1768, and since that time, in the larger cities, they have not been heard.

The most successful writer for the stage was Ramon de la Cruz (1731-1799), the author of about three hundred dramatic compositions, founded on the manners of the middle and lower classes. They are entirely national in their tone, and abound in wit and in faithful delineations of character.

While a number of writers pandered to the bad taste of low and vulgar audiences, a formidable antagonist appeared in the person of Moratin the younger (1760-1828), son of that poet who first produced, on the Spanish stage, an original drama written according to the French doctrines. Notwithstanding the taste of the public, he determined to tread in the footsteps of his father. Though his comedies have failed to educate a school strong enough to drive out the bad imitations of the old masters, they have yet been able to keep their own place.

The eighteenth century was a period of revolution and change with the Spanish theatre. While the old national drama was not restored to its ancient rights, the drama founded on the doctrines taught by Luzan, and practiced by the Moratins, had only a limited success. The audiences did as much to degrade it as was done by the poets they patronized and the actors they applauded. On the one side, extravagant and absurd dramas in great numbers, full of low buffoonery, were offered; on the other, meagre, sentimental comedies, and stiff, cold translations from the French, were forced, in almost equal numbers, upon the actors, by the voices of those from whose authority or support they could not entirely emancipate themselves.

3. SPANISH LITERATURE IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY.—The new life and health infused into literature in the age of Charles III. was checked by the French revolutionary wars in She reign of Charles IV., and afterwards by the restoration of civil despotism and the Inquisition, brought again into the country by the return of the Bourbon dynasty in 1814. Amidst the violence and confusion of the reign of Ferdinand VII. (1814-1833), elegant letters could hardly hope to find shelter or resting-place. Nearly every poet and prose writer, known as such at the end of the reign of Charles IV., became involved in the fierce political changes of the time,—changes so various and so opposite, that those who escaped from the consequences of one, were often, on that very account, sure to suffer in the next that followed. Indeed, the reign of Ferdinand VII. was an interregnum in all elegant culture, such as no modern nation has yet seen,—not even Spain herself during the War of the Succession. This state of things continued through the long civil war which arose soon after the death of that king, and, indeed, it is not yet entirely abated. But in despite of the troubled condition of the country, even while Ferdinand was living, a movement was begun, the first traces of which are to be found among the emigrated Spaniards, who cheered with letters their exile in England and France, and whose subsequent progress from the time when the death of their unfaithful monarch permitted them to return home, is distinctly perceptible in their own country.

The two principal writers of the first half of the century are the satirist José de Larra (d. 1837), and the poet Espronceda (d. 1842); both were brilliant writers, and both died young. Zorrilla (b. 1817), has great wealth of imagination, and Fernan Caballero is a gifted woman whose stories have been often translated. Antonio de Trueba is a writer of popular songs and short stories not without merit, Campoamor (b. 1817) and Bequer represent the poetry of twenty years ago. The short lyrics of the first named are remarkable for their delicacy and finesse. Bequer, who died at the age of thirty, left behind him poems which have already exercised a wide influence in his own country and in Spanish America; they tell a story of passionate love, despair, and death. Perez Galdos, a writer of fiction, attacks the problem of modern life and thought, and represents with vivid and often bitter fidelity the conflicting interests and passions of Spanish life. Valera, the present minister from Spain to the United States, is the author of the most famous Spanish novel of the day, "Pepita Jimenez," a work of great artistic perfection, and his skill and grace are still more evident in his critical essays. Castelar has gained a European celebrity as an orator and a political and miscellaneous writer. The works of these authors, and of many others not named, show clearly that Spain is making vigorous efforts to bring herself, socially and intellectually, into line with the rest of Europe.

Of the Spanish colonies Cuba has produced some writers of enduring renown. The most distinguished for poetic fame is Gertrude de Avelleneda; Heredia and Placido may also be mentioned. In Venezuela, Baralt is known as a historian, poet, and classical writer; Olmedo as a poet of Bolivia, and Caro a writer of the United States of Colombia.

PORTUGUESE LITERATURE.

1. The Portuguese Language.—2. Early Literature of Portugal.—3. Poets of the Fifteenth Century; Macias, Ribeyro.—4. Introduction of the Italian Style; San de Miranda, Montemayor, Ferreira.—5. Epic Poetry; Camoëns; The Lusiad.—6. Dramatic Poetry; Gil Vicente.—7. Prose Writing; Rodriguez Lobo, Barros, Brito, Veira.—8. Portuguese Literature in the Seventeenth, Eighteenth, and Nineteenth Centuries; Antonio José, Manuel do Nascimento, Manuel de Bocage.

1. THE PORTUGUESE LANGUAGE.—Portugal was long considered only as an integral part of Spain; its inhabitants called themselves Spaniards, and conferred on their neighbors the distinctive appellation of Castilians. Their language was originally the same as the Galician; and had Portugal remained a province of Spain, its peculiar dialect would probably, like that of Aragon, have been driven from the fields of literature by the Castilian. But at the close of the eleventh century, Alphonso VI., celebrated in Spanish history for his triumphs over the Moors, gave Portugal as a dowry to his daughter on her marriage with Henry of Burgundy, with permission to call his own whatever accessions to it the young prince might be able to conquer from the Moorish territory. Alphonso Henriquez, the son of this pair, was saluted King of Portugal by his soldiers on the battle-field of Castro-Verd, in the year 1139, his kingdom comprising all the provinces we now call Portugal, except the province of Algarve. Thenceforward the Portuguese became a separate nation from the Spaniards, and their language asserted for itself an independent existence. Still, however, the Castilian was long considered the proper vehicle for literature; and while few Portuguese writers wholly disused it, there were many who employed no other.

Although the Portuguese language, founded on the Galician dialect, bears much similarity to the Spanish in its roots and structure, it differs widely from it in its grammatical combinations and derivations, so that it constitutes a language by itself. It has far more French, and fewer Basque and Arabic elements than the Spanish; it is softer, but it has, at the same time, a truncated and incomplete sound, compared with the sonorous beauty of the Castilian, and a predominance of nasal sounds stronger than those of the French. It is graceful and easy in its construction, but it is the least energetic of all the Romance tongues.

2. EARLY LITERATURE OF PORTUGAL.—The people, as well as the language, of Portugal possess a distinctive character. Early in the history of the country the extensive and fertile plains were abandoned to pasturage, and the number of shepherds in proportion to the rest of the population was so great, that the idea of rural life among them was always associated with the care of flocks. At the same time, their long extent of coast invited to the pursuits of commerce and navigation; and the nation, thus divided into hardy navigators, soldiers, and shepherds, was better calculated for the display of energy, valor, and enterprise than for laborious and persevering industry. Accustomed to active intercourse with society, rather than to the seclusion of castles, they were far less haughty and fanatical than the Castilians; and the greater number of Moçárabians that were incorporated among them, diffused over their feelings and manners a much stronger influence of orientalism. The passion of love seemed to occupy a larger share of their existence, and their poetry was more enthusiastic than that of any other people of Europe.

Although the literature of Portugal, like the character of its people, is marked by excessive softness, elegiac sentimentality, and an undefined melancholy, it affords little originality in the general tone of its productions. Henry of Burgundy and his knights early introduced Provençal poetry, and the native genius was nurtured in the succeeding age by Spanish and Italian taste, and afterwards modified by the influence of French and English civilization. National songs were not wanting in the early history of the country, yet no relics of them have been preserved. The earliest monuments of Portuguese literature relate to the age of the French knights who founded the political independence of the country, and must be sought in the "Cancioneros," containing courtly ballads composed in the Galician dialect, after the Provençal fashion, and sung by wandering minstrels. The Cancionero of King Dionysius (1279-1325) is the most ancient of those collections, the king himself being considered by the Portuguese as the earliest poet. In fact, Galician poetry, modeled after the Provençal, was cultivated at that time all along the western portion of the Pyrenean peninsula. Alfonso the Wise, King of Castile, used this dialect in his poems; and as a poet and patron of the Spanish troubadours, he may be considered as belonging both to the Spanish and Portuguese literatures.

In the fourteenth and beginning of the fifteenth century, Portuguese poetry preserved its Provençal character. The poets rallied around the court, and the kings and princes of the age sang to the Provençal lyre both in the Castilian and the Galician dialects; but only a few fragments of the poetry of the fourteenth century are extant.

3. POETS OF THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY.—Early in the fifteenth century, the same chivalrous spirit which had achieved the conquest of the country from the Moors, led the Portuguese to cross the Straits of Gibraltar, and plant their banner on the walls of Ceuta. Many other cities of Africa were afterwards taken; and in 1487, Bartolomeo Diaz doubled the Cape of Good Hope, and Vasco da Gama pointed out to Europe the hitherto unknown track to India. Within fifteen years after, a Portuguese kingdom was founded in Hindostan, and the treasures of the East flowed into Portugal. The enthusiasm of the people was thus awakened, and high views of national importance, and high hopes of national glory, arose in the public mind. The time was peculiarly favorable to the development of genius, and especially to the spirit of poetry. Indeed, the last part of the fifteenth century, and the beginning of the sixteenth, the age of King John (1481- 1495), and of Emanuel (1495-1521), may be called the golden age of the Portuguese poetry.

At the head of the poetical school of the fifteenth century, stands Macias, surnamed the Enamored (fl. 1420). He was distinguished as a hero in the wars against the Moors of Granada, and as a poet in the retinue of the Marquis of Villena. He became attached to a lady of the same princely household, who was forced to marry another. Macias continuing to express his love, though prohibited by the marquis from doing so, was thrown into prison; but even there, he still poured forth his songs on his ill-fated love, regarding the hardships of captivity as light, in comparison with the pangs of absence from his mistress. The husband of the lady, stung with jealousy, recognizing Macias through the bars of his prison, took deadly aim at him with his javelin, and killed him on the spot. The weapon was suspended over the poet's tomb, in the Church of St. Catherine, with the inscription, "Here lies Macias the Enamored."

The death of Macias produced such a sensation as could only belong to an imaginative age. All those who desired to be thought cultivated mourned his fate. His few poems of moderate merit became generally known and admired, and his melancholy history continued to be the theme of songs and ballads, until, in the poetry of Lope de Vega and Calderon, the name of Macias passed into a proverb, and became synonymous with the highest and tenderest love.

Ribeyro (1495-1521), one of the earliest and best poets of Portugal, was attached to the court of King Emanuel. Here he indulged a passion for one of the ladies of the court, which gave rise to some of his most exquisite effusions. It is supposed that the lady, whose name he studiously conceals, was the Infanta Beatrice, the king's own daughter. He was so wholly devoted to the object of his love, that he is said to have passed whole nights wandering in the woods, or beside the banks of a solitary stream, pouring forth the tale of his woes in strains of mingled tenderness and despair. The most celebrated productions of Ribeyro are eclogues. The scene is invariably laid in his own country; his shepherds are all Portuguese, and his peasant girls have Christian names. But under the disguise of fictitious characters, he evidently sought to place before the eyes of his beloved mistress the feelings of his own breast; and the wretchedness of an impassioned lover is always his favorite theme.

The bucolic poets of Portugal may be regarded as the earliest in Europe, and their favorite creed, that pastoral life was the poetical model of human life, and the ideal point from which every sentiment and passion ought to be viewed, was first represented by Ribeyro. This idea threw an air of romantic sweetness and elegance over the poetry of the sixteenth century, but at the same time it gave to it a monotonous tone and an air of tedious affectation.

4. INTRODUCTION OF THE ITALIAN STYLE.—The poet who first introduced the Italian style into Portuguese poetry was so successful in seizing the delicate tone by which the blending of the two was to be effected that the innovation was accomplished without a struggle. Saa de Miranda (1495-1558) was one of the most pleasing and accomplished men of his age. He traveled extensively, and on his return was attached to the court of Lisbon. It is related of him that he would often sit silent and abstracted in company, and that tears, of which no one knew the cause, would flow from his eyes, while he seemed unconscious of the circumstance, and indifferent to the observation he was thus attracting. These emotions were of course attributed to poetic thought and romantic attachments. He insisted on marrying a lady who was neither young nor handsome, and whom he had never seen, having been captivated by her reputation for amiability and discretion. He became so attached to her, that when she died he renounced all his previous pursuits and purposes in life, remained inconsolable, and soon followed her to the grave. Miranda is chiefly celebrated for his lyric and pastoral poetry.

Montemayor was a contemporary of Miranda, and a native of Portugal, but he declined holding any literary position in his own country. The pastoral romance of "Diana," written in the Castilian language, is his most celebrated work. It was received with great favor, and extensively imitated. With many faults, it possesses a high degree of poetic merit, and is entitled to the esteem of all ages.

Ferreira (1528-1569) has been called the Horace of Portugal. His works are correct and elegant, but they are wanting in those higher efforts of genius which strike the imagination and fire the spirit. The glory, advancement, and civilization of his country were his darling themes, and it was this enthusiasm of patriotism that made him great. In his tragedy of Inez de Castro, Ferreira raised himself far above his Italian contemporaries. Many similar writers shed a lustre on this, the brightest and indeed the only brilliant period of Portuguese literature; but they are all more remarkable for taste and elegance than for richness of invention.

5. EPIC POETRY.—The chief and only boast of his country, the sole poet whose celebrity has extended beyond the peninsula, and whose name appears in the list of those who have conferred honor upon Europe, is Luis de Camoëns (1524-1579). He was descended from a noble, but by no means a wealthy family. After having completed his studies at the university, he conceived a passion for a lady of the court, so violent that for some time he renounced all literary and worldly pursuits. He entered the military service, and in an engagement before Ceuta, in which he greatly distinguished himself, he lost an eye. Neglected and contemned by his country, he embarked for the East Indies. After various vicissitudes there, he wrote a bitter satire on the government, which occasioned his banishment to the island of Macao, where he remained for five years, and where he completed the great work which was to hand down his name to posterity. There is still to be seen, on the most elevated point of the isthmus which unites the town of Macao to the Chinese continent, a sort of natural gallery formed out of the rocks, apparently almost suspended in the air, and commanding a magnificent prospect over both seas, and the lofty chain of mountains which rises above their shores. Here he is said to have invoked the genius of the epic muse, and tradition has conferred on this retreat the name of the Grotto of Camoëns.

On his return to Goa, Camoëns was shipwrecked, and of all his little property, he succeeded only in saving the manuscript of the Lusiad, which he bore in one hand above the water, while swimming to the shore. Soon after reaching Goa, he was thrown into prison upon some unjust accusation, and suffered for a long time to linger there. At length released, he took passage for his native country, which he reached after an absence of sixteen years. Portugal was at this time ravaged by the plague, and in the universal sorrow and alarm, the poet and his great work were alike neglected. The king at length consented to accept the dedication of this poem, and made to the author the wretched return of a pension, amounting to about twenty-five dollars. Camoëns was not unfrequently in actual want of bread, for which he was in part indebted to a black servant who had accompanied him from India, and who was in the habit of stealing out at night to beg in the streets for what might support his master during the following day. But more aggravated evils were in store for the unfortunate poet. The young king perished in the disastrous expedition against Morocco, and with him expired the royal house of Portugal. The independence of the nation was lost, her glory eclipsed, and the future pregnant with calamity and disgrace. Camoëns, who had so nobly supported his own misfortunes, sank under those of his country. He was seized with a violent fever, and expired in a public hospital without having a shroud to cover his remains.

The poem on which the reputation of Camoëns depends, is entitled "Os Lusiadas;" that is, the Lusitanians (or Portuguese), and its design is to present a poetic and epic grouping of all the great and interesting events in the annals of Portugal. The discovery of the passage to India, the most brilliant point in Portuguese history, was selected as the groundwork of the epic unity of the poem. But with this, and the Portuguese conquests in India, the author combined all the illustrious actions performed by his countrymen in other quarters of the world, and whatever of splendid and heroic achievement history or tradition could supply. Vasco da Gama has been represented as the hero of the work, and those portions not immediately connected with his expedition, as episodes. But there is, in truth, no other leading subject than the country, and no episodes except such parts as are not immediately connected with her glory. Camoëns was familiar with the works of his Italian contemporaries, but the circumstance that essentially distinguishes him from them, and which forms the everlasting monument of his own and his country's glory, is the national love and pride breathing through the whole work. His patriotic spirit, devoting a whole life to raise a monument worthy of his country, seems never to have indulged a thought which was not true to the glory of an ungrateful nation.

The Greek mythology forms the epic machinery of the Lusiad. Vasco da Gama, having doubled the Cape of Good Hope, is steering along the western coast of Africa, when the gods assemble on Mount Olympus to deliberate on the fate of India. Venus and Bacchus form two parties; the former in favor, the latter opposed to the Portuguese. The poet thus gratified his national pride, as Portugal was eminently the land of love, and moderation in the use of wine was one of its highest virtues. Bacchus lays many snares to entrap and ruin the adventurers, who are warned and protected by Venus. He visits the palace of the gods of the sea, who consent to let loose the Winds and Waves upon the daring adventurers, but she summons her nymphs, and adorning themselves with garlands of the sweetest flowers, they subdue the boisterous Winds, who, charmed by the blandishments of love, become calm. Vasco is hospitably received by the African king of Melinda, to whom he relates the most interesting parts of the history of his native country. On the homeward voyage, Venus prepares a magic festival for the adventurers, on an enchanted island, and the goddess Thetis becomes the bride of the admiral. Here the poet finds the opportunity to complete the narrative of his country's history, and a prophetic nymph is brought forward to describe the future achievements of the nation from that period to the time of Camoëns.

The Lusiad is one of the noblest monuments ever raised to the national glory of any people, and it is difficult to conceive how so grand and beautiful a whole could be formed on a plan so trivial and irregular. The plan has been compared to a scaffolding surrounded and concealed by a majestic building, serving to connect its parts, but having no share in producing the unity of the effect. One of the most affecting and beautiful of all the passages of the Lusiad, is the narrative of the tragical fate of Iñez de Castro, who, after her death, was proclaimed queen of Portugal, upon the accession of her lover to the throne.

In the poems of Camoëns we find examples of every species of composition practiced in his age and country. Some of them bear the impress of his personal character, and of his sad and agitated career. A wild tone of sorrow runs through them, which strikes the ear like wailings heard through the gloom of midnight and darkness. We know not by what calamity they were called forth, but it is the voice of grief, and it awakens an answering throb within the breast.

6. DRAMATIC POETRY.—The drama is quite a barren field in Portuguese literature. The stage of Lisbon has been occupied almost exclusively by the Italian opera and Spanish comedy. Only one poet of any name has written in the Portuguese spirit. This was Gil Vicente (1490-1556). He resided constantly at the court, and was employed in providing occasional pieces for its civil and religious festivities. It is probable that he was an actor, and it is certain that he educated for the stage his daughter, Paula, who was equally celebrated as an actress, a poetess, and a musician. The dramas of Vicente consist of autos, comedies, tragi- comedies, and farces. The autos, or religious pieces, were written chiefly to furnish entertainment for the court on Christmas night. The shepherds had naturally an important part assigned to them, and the whole was pervaded by the pastoral feeling which distinguishes them remarkably from the Spanish autos. But the best productions of this author are his farces, which approach much nearer to the style of true comedy than the plays published under that name.

Saa de Miranda, desirous of conferring on his country a classical theatre, produced two erudite comedies, but he was born a pastoral poet, and made himself a dramatist only by imitation. Ferreira belonged to the same school, and the favor bestowed by the court on the dramas of these two poets, was one obstacle to the formation of a national drama. Another was, the pertinacious attachment of the Portuguese to pastoral poetry, and nothing could be more contrary to dramatic life than the languor, sentimentality, and monotony peculiar to the eclogue.

7. PROSE WRITING.—After Camoëns, Saa de Miranda, and Ferreira, the language and the literature of Portugal are indebted to no other writer so much as to Rodriguez Lobo (b. 1558). The history of Portuguese eloquence may be said to commence with him, for he laid so good a foundation for the cultivation of a pure prose style that, in every effort to obtain classic perfection, subsequent writers have merely followed in his steps. His verse is nowise inferior to his prose. Among his poetic works appears a whole series of historic romances, written by way of ridiculing that species of composition.

Lobo stood alone, in the sixteenth century, in his efforts to improve the prose of his country. Gongorism had, meanwhile, introduced bombast and metaphorical obscurity, and no writer of eminence arose to attempt a more natural style, till the end of the seventeenth century.

Foremost among those who undertook to relate the history of their country, especially of her oriental discoveries, and who communicated to their records an ardent patriotic feeling, is Barros (1496-1571); he took Livy for his model, and his labors are worthy of honorable notice. India was the favorite topic of Portuguese historians; and several similar works, but inferior to that of Barros, appeared in the same age. Bernardo de Brito (d. 1617) undertook the task of compiling a history of Portugal. His narration begins with the creation of the world, and breaks off where the history of modern Portugal commences. It is eminently distinguished for style and descriptive talent. The biography of Juan de Castro, written by Jacinto de Andrade, is considered as a masterpiece of the Portuguese prose.

The conquered Indians found an eloquent defender in Veira (1608-1697), a Catholic missionary, who spent a great part of his life in the deserts of South America, and wrote catechisms in different languages for the use of the natives. Having returned to the court of John IV., he undertook to defend the natural rights of Indians against the rapacity of the conquerors. He undertook also the defense of the Jews in his native country, and showed so much interest in their cause that he was twice brought before the Inquisition. His sermons and letters are models of prose writings, full of the inspiration which springs from the boldness of his subjects.

8. PORTUGUESE LITERATURE IN THE SEVENTEENTH, EIGHTEENTH, AND NINETEENTH CENTURIES.—Portuguese literature during the seventeenth century would present an utter blank, but for the few literary productions to which we have alluded. Previous to that time, patriotic valor and romantic enterprise expanded the national genius; but before it could mature, the despotism of the monarchy, the horrors of the Inquisition, and the influence of wealth and luxury, had done their work of destruction, and the prostrate nation had in the seventeenth century reaped the bitter fruits. The most brilliant period of Portuguese poetry had passed away, and no new era commenced. The flame of patriotism was extinct, Brazil was the only colony that remained, the spirit of national enterprise was no more, and a general lethargy overspread the nation. Labor was reckoned a disgrace, commerce a degradation, and agriculture too fatiguing for even the lowest classes of the community. Both Spain and Portugal felt the paralyzing influence of their humbled position in the scale of nations, and civil and religious despotism had overthrown, in both countries, the intellectual power which had so long withstood its degrading influence.

Thousands of sonnets, chiefly of an amorous nature, filled up the seventeenth century in Portugal, while Spain was exhausting its expiring energies in dramas. Souza, the most eminent of the sonneteers, alone produced six hundred. In the first, he announces that the collection is designed to celebrate "the penetrating shafts of love, which were shot from a pair of heavenly eyes, and which, after inflicting immortal wounds, issued triumphant from the poet's breast."

In the eighteenth century, the influence of French taste crept quietly into the literature as well as the manners of the Portuguese nation. Royal academies of history and language were founded, and an academy of sciences, which, since 1792, has exercised an influence over literary taste, and given birth to many excellent treatises on philosophy and criticism.

About the year 1735, the nation seemed on the eve of possessing a drama of its own. Antonio José, an obscure Jew, composed a number of comic operas, in the vernacular tongue, which had long been banished from the theatre of Lisbon. In spite of much coarseness, their genuine humor and familiar gayety excited the greatest enthusiasm, and for ten years the theatre was crowded with delighted audiences. But the Jew was seized and burnt, by order of the Inquisition, at the last auto da fé, which took place in 1745, and the theatre was closed.

Although French literature continued to exert its influence in the beginning of the nineteenth century, masterpieces of English literature at that time found their way into Portugal, and excited much admiration and imitation. Manuel do Nascimento (1734-1819) is the representative of the classic style, and his works, both in poetry and prose, are distinguished by purity of language. Manuel de Bocage (1766-1805) is one of the most celebrated modern poets, and though his poems are not examples of refined taste or elegance of style, they evince enthusiasm and poetical fire. Among the poets of the present day, there are some who have emancipated themselves from the imitation of foreign models, and have attempted to combine the earliest national elements of their literature with the characteristic tendencies of the present age.

FINNISH LITERATURE.

1. The Finnish Language and Literature: Poetry; the Kalevala; Lönnrot;
Korhonen.—2. The Hungarian Language and Literature: the Age of Stephen
I.; Influence of the House of Anjou; of the Reformation; of the House of
Austria; Kossuth; Josika; Eötvös; Kuthy; Szigligeti; Petöfi.

1. THE FINNISH LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE.—On passing northward from the Iranian plateaux through Turan to the Uralian mountains, which separate Europe and Asia, we arrive at the primitive seat of the Finnish race. Driven westward by other invading tribes, it scattered through northern Europe, and established itself more particularly in Finland, where, at the present time, we find its principal stock. From the earliest period of the history of the Finns, until the middle of the twelfth century, they lived under their own independent kings. They were then subjected by the Swedes, who established colonies upon their coasts, and introduced Christianity among them. After having been for many centuries the theatre of Russian and Swedish wars, in the beginning of the present century Finland passed under the dominion of Russia; yet, through these ages of foreign domination, its inhabitants preserved their national character, and maintained the use of their native tongue.

The Finnish language is a branch of the Turanian family; it is written with the Roman alphabet, but it has fewer sounds; it is complicated in its declension and conjugation, but it has great capacity of expressing compound ideas in one word; it is harmonious in sound, and free, yet clear, in its construction.

The Finns at an early period had attained a high degree of civilization, and they have always been distinguished for their love of poetry, especially for the melancholy strains of the elegy. They possess a vast number of popular songs or ballads, which are either lyrical or mythological; they are sung by the song-men, to the kantele, a kind of harp with five wire strings, a favorite national instrument. They have also legends, tales, and proverbs, some of which have recently been collected and published at Helsingfors, the capital of Finland.

The great monument of Finnish literature is the "Kalevala," a kind of epic poem, which was arranged in a systematic collection, and given to the world in 1833, by Elias Lönnrot (d. 1884). He wandered from place to place in the remote districts of Finland, living with the peasants, and taking down from their lips the popular songs as he heard them chanted. The importance of this indigenous epic was at once recognized, and translations were made in various languages. The poem, which strongly resembles "Hiawatha," takes its name from the heroes of Kaleva, the land of happiness and plenty, who struggle with three others from the cold north and the land of death. It begins with the creation, and ends in the triumph of the heroes of Kaleva. Max Müller says of this poem that it possesses merits not dissimilar to those of the Iliad, and that it will claim its place as the fifth national epic of the world, beside that of the "Mahabharata," "Shah Nameh," and "Nibelungen." It is doubtless the product of different minds at different periods, having evidently received additions from time to time.

During the present century there has been considerable literary activity in Finland, and we meet with many names of poets and dramatists. The periodical literature is specially rich and voluminous, and valuable works on Finnish history and geography have recently appeared. Of recent poets the most popular is Korrhoinen, a peasant, whose productions are characterized by their sharp and biting sarcasm. The prose of Finland has a religious and moral character, and is especially enriched by translations from Swedish literature.

2. HUNGARIAN LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE.—The language of the Magyars belongs to the Turanian family, and more particularly to the Finnish branch. The Hungarian differs from most European languages in its internal structure and external form. It is distinguished by harmony and energy of sound, richness and vigor of form, regularity of inflexion, and power of expression.

Towards the close of the seventh century, the Magyars emigrated from Asia into Europe, and for two hundred years they occupied the country between the Don and Dneiper. Being at length pressed forward by other emigrant tribes, they entered and established themselves in Hungary, after subjugating its former inhabitants.

In the year 1000, Stephen I. founded the kingdom of Hungary. He had introduced Christianity into the country, and with it a knowledge of the Latin language, which was now taught in the schools and made use of in public documents, while the native idiom was spoken by the people, and in part in the assemblies of the Diet. On the accession of the House of Anjou to the throne of Hungary, in the fourteenth century, a new impulse was given to the Hungarian tongue. The Bible was translated into it, and it became the language of the court; although the Latin was still the organ of the church and state, and from the fourteenth to the close of the fifteenth century remained the literary language of the country. This Latin literature boasted of many distinguished writers, but so little influence had they on the nation at large, that during this period it appears that many of the high officers of the kingdom could neither read nor write.

The sixteenth century was more favorable to Hungarian literature, and the political and religious movements which took place in the reign of Ferdinand I. and Maximilian II. (1527-1576) proved to be most beneficial to the intellectual development of the people. The Reformation, which was introduced into Hungary through Bohemia, the example of this neighboring country, and the close alliance which existed between the two people, exercised great influence on the public mind. The Hungarian language was introduced into the church, the schools, and the religious controversies, and became the vehicle of sacred and popular poetry. It was thus enriched and polished, and acquired a degree of perfection which it retained until the latter part of the eighteenth century. Translations of the Bible were multiplied; chronicles, histories, grammars, and dictionaries were published, and the number of schools, particularly among the Protestants, was greatly increased.

But these brilliant prospects were soon blighted when the country came under the absolute dominion of Austria. In order to crush the national tendencies of the Magyars, the government now restored the Latin and German languages; and newspapers, calendars, and publications of all kinds, including many valuable works, appeared in Latin. Indeed, the interval from 1702 to 1780 was the golden age of this literature in Hungary. Maria Theresa and Joseph II., however, by prescribing the use of the German language in the schools, official acts, and public transactions, produced a reaction in favor of the national tongue, which was soon after taught in the schools, heard in the lecture-room, the theatre, and popular assemblies, and became the organ of the public press. These measures, however, the good effects of which were mainly confined to the higher classes, were gradually pursued with less zeal. It is only of late that the literature of Hungary has assumed a popular character, and become a powerful engine for the advancement of political objects.

Kossuth may be considered as the founder of a national party which is at the head of the contemporary literature of the Magyars. Through the action of this party and of its leader, the Hungarian Diet passed, in 1840, the celebrated "Law of the Language," by which the supremacy of the Hungarian tongue was established, and its use prescribed in the administration and in the institutions of learning. From 1841 to 1844, Kossuth published a paper, in which the most serious and important questions of politics and economy were discussed in a style characterized by great elegance and simplicity, and by a fervid eloquence, which awakened in all classes the liveliest emotions of patriotism and independence. His writings greatly enriched the national language, and excited the emulation even of those who did not accept his political views. His memoirs, lately published, have been extensively translated.

The novels of Josika (1865), modeled after those of Walter Scott, the works of Eötvös and Kemeny after the writers of Germany, and those of Kuthy and others who have followed the French school, have greatly contributed to enrich the literature of Hungary. The comedies and the dramas of Eötvös and Gal, and particularly those of Szigligeti, show great progress in the Hungarian theatre, while in the poems of Petöfi and others is heard the harmonious yet sorrowful voice of the national muse.

After 1849, the genius of Hungary seemed for a while buried under the ruins of the nation. Many of the most eminent writers either fell in the national struggle, or, being driven into exile, threw aside their pens in despair. But the intellectual condition of the people has of late been greatly improved. Public education has been promoted, scholastic institutions have been established, and at the present time there are eloquent voices heard which testify to the presence of a vigorous life latent in the very heart of the country.

Among many other writers of the present day, are Jokai (b. 1825), the author of various historical romances which have been extensively translated, Varga, a lyric poet, and Arany, perhaps the greatest poet Hungary has produced, some of whose works are worthy of the literature of any age.

3. THE TURKISH LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE.—The Turks, or Osmanlis, are descendants of the Tartars, and their language, which is a branch of the Turanian family, is at the present day the commercial and political tongue throughout the Levant. This language is divided into two principal dialects, the eastern and the western. The eastern, though rough and harsh, has been the vehicle of certain literary productions, of which the most important are the biographies of more than three hundred ancient poets, written by Mir-Ali-Schir, who flourished in the middle of the fifteenth century, and who was the Maecenas of several Persian poets, particularly of Jami; several historical memoirs, and a number of ballads, founded on the traditions of the ancient Turkish tribes, belong also to the literature of this dialect. The western idiom constitutes what is more properly called the Turkish language. It is euphonious in sound and regular in its grammatical forms, though poor in its vocabulary. To supply its deficiencies, the Osmanlis have introduced many elements of the Arabic and Persian. They have also adopted the Arabic alphabet, with some alterations; and, like the Arabians, they write from right to left.

The literature of Turkey, although it is extremely rich, contains little that is original or national, but is a successful imitation of Persian or Arabic. Even before the capture of Constantinople works had been produced which the nation has not let perish. The most flourishing period was during the reign of Solyman the Magnificent and his son Selim in the sixteenth century. Fasli (d. 1563) was an erotic poet, who attained a high reputation; and Baki (d. 1600), a lyric poet, is ranked by the Orientals with the Persian Hafiz. In the seventeenth century a new period of literature arose, though inferior to the last. Nebi was the most admired poet, Nefi a distinguished satirist, and Hadji Khalfa a historian of Arabic, Persian, and Turkish literature, who is the chief authority upon this subject for the East and West. The annals of Saad-El-Din (d. 1599) are important for the student of the history of the Ottoman Empire. The style of these writers, however, is for the most part bombastic, consisting of a mixture of poetry and prose overladen with figures. Novels and tales abound in this literature, and it affords many specimens of geographical works, many important collections of juridical decisions, and valuable researches on the Persian and Arabian languages.

The press was introduced into Constantinople early in the eighteenth century, and has been actively engaged in publishing translations of the most important works in Persian and Arabic, as well as in the native tongue. Societies are established for the promotion of various branches of science, and many scientific and literary journals are published. There are numerous primary free schools and high scholastic institutions in Constantinople, and some public libraries.

4. THE ARMENIAN LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE.—The language of Armenia belongs to the Indo-European family, and particularly to the Iranian variety; but it has been greatly modified by contact with other languages, especially the Turkish. At present the modern dialect is spoken in southern Russia around the sea of Azof, in Turkey, Galicia, and Hungary. The ancient Armenian, which was spoken down to the twelfth century, is preserved in its purity in the ancient books of the people, and is still used in their best works. This tongue, owing to an abundance of consonants, is lacking in euphony; it is deficient in distinction of gender, though it is redundant in cases and inflexions. Its alphabet is modeled after the Greek.

The Armenians, from the earliest period of their existence, through all the political disasters which have signalized their history, have exhibited a strong love for a national literature, and maintained themselves as a cultivated people amidst all the revolutions which barbarism, despotism, and war have occasioned. During so many ages they have faithfully preserved not only their historical traditions, reaching back to the period of the ancient Hebrew histories, but also their national character. Their first abode—the vicinity of Mount Ararat—is even at the present day the centre of their religious and political union. Commerce has scattered them, like the Israelites, among all nations, but without debasing their character; on the contrary, they are distinguished by superior cultivation, manners, and honesty from the barbarians under whose yoke they live. The cause is to be found in their creed and in their religious union.

Until the beginning of the fourth century A.D. the Armenians were Parsees; the literature of the country up to this period was contained in a few songs or ballads, and its civilization was only that which could be wrought out by the philosophy of Zoroaster. In 319, when Christianity was introduced into Armenia, the language and learning of the Greeks were exciting the profound admiration of the most eminent fathers of the church, and this attention to Greek literature was immediately manifest in the literary history of Armenia. A multitude of Grecian works was translated, commented upon, and their philosophy adopted, and the literature was thus established upon a Grecian basis.

About the same period, the alphabet at present in use in the Armenian language was invented, or the old alphabet perfected by Mesrob, in connection with which the language underwent many modifications. Mesrob, with his three sons, especially educated for the task, commenced the translation of the Bible 411 A.D., and its completion nearly half a century later gave a powerful impulse to Armenian learning, and at the same time stamped upon it a religious character which it has never lost. The period from the sixth to the tenth century is the golden age of this literature. Its temporary decline after this period was owing to the invasion of the Arabians, when many of the inhabitants were converted to the Mohammedan faith and many more compelled to suffer persecution for their refusal to abjure Christianity. After the subjection of Armenia to the Greek empire, literature again revived, and until the fourteenth century was in a flourishing condition. In 1375, when the Turks took possession of the country, the inhabitants were again driven from their homes, and from that time their literature has steadily declined. After their emigration, the Armenians established themselves in various countries of Europe and Asia, and amidst all the disadvantages of their position they still preserve not only the unity of their religious faith, but the same unwearied desire to sustain a national literature. Wherever they have settled, in Amsterdam, Leghorn, Venice, Constantinople, and Calcutta, they have established printing presses and published valuable books. Of their colonies or monasteries, the most interesting and fruitful in literary works is that of Venice, which was founded in the eighteenth century by Mechitar, an Armenian, and from him its monks are called Mechitarists. From the time of their establishment they have constantly issued translations of important religious works. They now publish a semi- monthly paper in the Armenian language, which is circulated and read among the scattered families of the Armenian faith over the world. They also translate and publish standard works of modern literature.

About the year 1840, through the influence of American missionaries, the Bible was translated into Armenian, freed as far as possible from foreign elements; school-books were also translated, newspapers established, and the language awoke to new life. Within the last twenty years the intellectual progress in Armenia has been very great. In 1863 Christopher Robert, an American gentleman, established and endowed a college at Constantinople for the education of pupils of all races, religions, and languages found in the empire. This institution, not sectarian, though Christian, has met with great success. It has two hundred and fifty students from fifteen nationalities, though chiefly Armenian, Bulgarian, and Greek.

SLAVIC LITERATURES.

The Slavic Race and Languages; the Eastern and Western Stems; the
Alphabets; the Old or Church Slavic Language; St. Cyril's Bible; the
Pravda Russkaya; the Annals of Nestor.

THE SLAVIC RACE AND LANGUAGES.—The Slavic race, which belongs to the great Indo-European family of nations, probably first entered Europe from Asia, seven or eight centuries B.C. About the middle of the sixth century A.D. we find Slavic tribes crossing the Danube in great multitudes, and settling on both the banks of that river; from that time they frequently appear in the accounts of the Byzantine historians, under different appellations, mostly as involved in the wars of the two Roman empires; sometimes as allies, sometimes as conquerors, often as vassals, and oftener as emigrants and colonists, thrust out of their own countries by the pressing forward of the more warlike Teutonic tribes. In the latter half of the eleventh century the Slavic nations were already in possession of the whole extent of territory which they still occupy, from the Arctic Ocean on the north to the Black and Adriatic seas on the south, and from Kamtschatka and the Russian islands of the Pacific to the Baltic, and along the banks of the rivers Elbe, Muhr, and Ruab, again to the Adriatic. They are represented by early historians as having been a peaceful, industrious, hospitable people, obedient to their chiefs, and religious in their habits. Wherever they established themselves, they began to cultivate the earth, and to trade in the productions of the country. There are also early traces of their fondness for music and poetry.

The analogy between the Slavic and the Sanskrit languages indicates the Oriental origin of the Slavonians, which appears also from their mythology. The antithesis of a good and evil principle is met with among most of the Slavic tribes; and even at the present time, in some of their dialects, everything good and beautiful is to them synonymous with the purity of the white color; they call the good spirit the White God, and the evil spirit the Black God. We find also traces of their Oriental origin in the Slavic trinity, which is nearly allied to that of the Hindus. Other features of their mythology remind us of the sprightly and poetical imagination of the Greeks. Such is the life attributed to the inanimate objects of nature, rocks, brooks, and trees; such are also the supernatural beings dwelling in the woods and mountains, nymphs, naiads, and satyrs. Indeed, the Slavic languages, in their construction, richness, and precision, appear nearly related to the Greek and Latin, with which they have a common origin.

Following the division of the Slavic nations into the eastern and western stems, their languages may he divided into two classes, the first containing the Russian and the Servian idioms, the second embracing the Bohemian and the Polish varieties. The Slavi of the Greek faith use the Cyrillic alphabet, so called from St. Cyril, its inventor, a Greek monk, who went from Constantinople (862 A.D.) to preach to them the gospel. It is founded on the Greek, with modifications and additions from Oriental sources. The Hieronymic alphabet, particularly used by the priests of Dalmatia and Croatia, is so called from the tradition which attributes it to St. Hieronymus. The Bohemians and Poles use the Roman alphabet, with a few alterations.

St. Cyril translated the Bible into the language called the Old or Church Slavic, and from the fact that this translation, made in the middle of the ninth century, is distinguished by great copiousness, and bears the stamp of uncommon perfection in its forms, it is evident that this language must have been flourishing long before that time. The celebrated "Pravda Russkaya," a collection of the laws of Jaroslav (1035 A.D.), and the "Annals of Nestor," of the thirteenth century, are the most remarkable monuments of the old Slavic language. This, however, has for centuries ceased to be a living tongue.

RUSSIAN LITERATURE.

1. The Language.—2. Literature in the Reign of Peter the Great; of
Alexander; of Nicholas; Danilof, Lomonosof, Kheraskof, Derzhavin,
Karamzin.—3. History, Poetry, the Drama: Kostrof, Dmitrief, Zhukoffski,
Krylof, Pushkin, Lermontoff, Gogol.—4. Literature in Russia since the
Crimean War: School of Nature; Turgenieff; Ultra-realistic School;
Science: Mendeleéff.

1. THE LANGUAGE.—In the Russian language three principal dialects are to be distinguished; but the Russian proper, as it is spoken in Moscow and all the central and northern parts of European Russia, is the literary language of the nation. It is distinguished by its immense copiousness, the consequence of its great flexibility in adopting foreign words, merely as roots, from which, by means of its own resources, stems and branches seem naturally to spring. Another excellence is the great freedom of construction which it allows, without any danger of becoming ambiguous. It is clear, euphonious, and admirably adapted to poetry.

The germs of Russian civilization arose with the foundation of the empire by the Varegians of Scandinavia (862 A.D.), but more particularly with the introduction of Christianity by Vladimir the Great, who, towards the close of the tenth century, established the first schools, introduced the Bible of St. Cyril, called Greek artists from Constantinople, and became the patron, and at the same time the hero of poetry. Indeed, he and his knights are the Russian Charlemagne and his peers, and their deeds have proved a rich source for the popular tales and songs of succeeding times. Jaroslav, the son of Vladimir, was not less active than his father in advancing the cause of Christianity; he sent friars through the country to instruct the people, founded theological schools, and continued the translation of the church books. To this age is referred the epic, "Igor's Expedition against the Polovtzi," discovered in the eighteenth century, a work characterized by uncommon grace, beauty, and power.

From 1238 to 1462 A.D. the Russian princes were vassals of the Mongols, and during this time nearly every trace of cultivation perished. The invaders burned the cities, destroyed all written documents, and demolished the monuments of national culture; but at length Ivan I. (1462- 1505) delivered his country from the Mongols, and prepared a new era in the history of Russian civilization.

At this early period the first germs of dramatic art were carried from Poland to Russia. In Kief the theological students performed ecclesiastical dramas, and traveled about, during the holidays, to exhibit their skill in other cities. The tragedies of Simeon of Polotzk (1628- 1680), in the old Slavic language, penetrated from the convents to the court, where they were performed in the middle of the seventeenth century. At this time the first secular drama, a translation from Molière, was also represented.

2. THE LITERATURE.—Peter the Great (1689-1725) raised the Russian dialect to the dignity of a written language, introduced it into the administration and courts of justice, and caused many books to be translated from foreign languages. He rendered the Slavic characters more conformable to the Latin, and these letters, then generally adopted, continue in use at the present time. Among the writers of the age of Peter the Great may be mentioned Kirsha Danilof, who versified the popular traditions of Vladimir and his heroes; and Kantemir, a satirist, who translated many epistles of Horace, and the work of Fontenelle on the plurality of worlds.

Peter the Great laid the corner-stone of a national literature, but the temple was not reared above the ground until the reign of Elizabeth and of Catharine II. Lomonosof (1711-1765), a peasant, born in the dreary regions of Archangel, has the honor of being the true founder of the Russian literature. In his Russian grammar he first laid down the principles and fixed the rules of the language; he first ventured to draw the boundary line between the old Slavic and the Russian, and endeavored to fix the rules of poetry according to the Latin standard. Among his contemporaries may be mentioned Sumarokof (1718-1777) and Kheraskof (1733-1807), both very productive writers in prose and verse, and highly admired by their contemporaries.

In the middle of the eighteenth century the dramatic talent of the Russians was awakened, through the establishment of theatres at Jaroslav, St. Petersburg, and Moscow; and several gifted literary men employed themselves in dramatic compositions; but of all the productions of this time, those of Von Wisin (1745-1792) only have continued to hold possession of the stage.

Among the poets of the eighteenth century, Derzhavin (1743-1816) sang the glory of Catharine II., and of the Russian arms. His "Ode to God" has obtained the distinction of being translated into several European languages, and also into Chinese, and hung up in the Emperor's palace, printed on white satin in golden letters.

The reign of Alexander I. (1801-1825) opened a new era in the literature. He manifested great zeal for the mental elevation of his subjects; he increased the number of universities, established theological seminaries and institutions for the study of oriental languages, and founded gymnasia and numerous common schools for the people; he richly endowed the Asiatic museum of St. Petersburg, and for a time patronized the Russian Bible Society, and promoted the printing of books on almost all subjects. But toward the close of his reign, in consequence of certain political measures, literature sank with great rapidity.

Karamzin (1765-1826), the representative of this age, undertook to shake off the yoke of the classical rules established by Lomonosof, and introduced more simplicity and naturalness. His reputation rests chiefly upon his "History of the Russian Empire," which, with many faults, is a standard work in Slavic literature. The reign of the Emperor Nicholas opened with a bloody tragedy, which exhibited in a striking manner the dissatisfied and unhealthy spirit of the literary youth of Russia. Several poets and men of literary fame were among the conspirators; and to awaken patriotism and to counteract the tendencies of the age, the government promoted historical and archaeological researches, but at the same time abolished professorships of philosophy, increased the vigilance of its censorship of the press, lengthened the catalogue of forbidden books, and reduced the term of lawful absence for its subjects. It took the most energetic measures to promote national education, and to cultivate those fields of science where no political tares could be sown.

The leading idea of the time was Panslavism, the object of which was the union of the Slavic race, an opposition to all foreign domination, and the attainment of a higher intellectual and political condition in the general march of mankind. Panslavism rose to a special branch of literature, and its principal writers were Kollar, Grabowski, and Gurowski.

3. HISTORY, POETRY, THE DRAMA.—History is a department of letters which has been treated very successfully in Russia; critical researches have been extended to all branches of archaeology, philology, mythology, and kindred subjects, and valuable works have been produced.

Dmitrief (1760-1827) combined in his poems imagination, taste, correctness, and purity of language. Zhukoffski (b. 1785) a poet of deep feeling, took his models from the Germans.

The fables of Krylof (b. 1768) are equally celebrated among all classes and ages, and are among the first books read by Russian children.

Above all the others, Pushkin (1799-1835) must be considered as the representative of Russian poetry in the nineteenth century. He was in the service of the government, when an ode "to Liberty," written in too bold a spirit, induced Alexander I. to banish him from St. Petersburg. The Emperor Nicholas recalled him, and became his patron. Though by no means a mere imitator, his poetry bears strong marks of the influence of Byron.

Lermontoff (d. 1841) was a poet and novelist whose writings, like those of Pushkin, were strongly influenced by Byron. Koltsoff (d. 1842) is the first song writer of Russia, and his favorite theme is the joys and sorrows of the people. Through the influence of Pushkin and Gogol (d. 1852), Russian literature became emancipated from the classic rule and began to develop original tendencies. Gogol in his writings manifests a deep sentiment of patriotism, a strong love of nature, and a fine sense of humor.

The Russians have few ballads of great antiquity, and these rarely have any reference to the subjects of the heroic prose tales which are the delight of Russian nurseries, the favorite subjects of which are the traditions of Vladimir and his giant heroes, which doubtless once existed in the form of ballads. The Russians have ever been a singing race. Every festival day and every extraordinary event has its accompanying song. Though these songs have been modernized in language and form, that they date from the age of paganism is evident from their frequent invocations of heathen deities and allusions to heathen customs. Allied to these songs are the various ditties which the peasant girls and lads sing on certain occasions, consisting of endless repetitions of words or syllables; yet through this melodious tissue, apparently without meaning, sparks of real poetry often shine.

The Russian songs, like the language, have a peculiar tenderness, and are full of caressing epithets, which are often applied even to inanimate objects. Russian lovers are quite inexhaustible in their endearing expressions, and the abundance of diminutives which the language possesses is especially favorable to their affectionate mode of address. With this exquisite tenderness of the love-song is united a pensive feeling, which, indeed, pervades the whole popular poetry of Russia, and which may be characterized as melancholy musical, and in harmony with the Russian national music, the expressive sweetness of which has been the admiration of all foreign composers to whom it has been known.

In the rich and fertile steppes of the Ukraine, where every forest tree seems to harbor a singer, and every blade of grass on the boundless plains seems to whisper the echo of a song, this pensive character of Russian poetry deepens into a melancholy that finds expression in a variety of sweet elegiac melodies. A German writer says of them, "they are the sorrows of whole centuries blended in one everlasting sigh." The spirit of the past indeed breathes through their mournful strains. The cradle of the Kozak was rocked to the music of clashing swords, and for centuries the country, on both banks of the Dnieper to the northwestern branch of the Carpathian Mountains, the seat of this race, was the theatre of constant warfare. Their narrative ballads, therefore, have few other subjects than the feuds with the Poles and Tartars, the Kozak's parting with his beloved one, his lonely death on the border or on the bloody field of battle.

These ballads have sometimes a spirit and boldness which presents noble relief to the habitual melancholy of this poetry in general. Professional singers, with a kind of guitar in their hand, wander through the country, sure to find a willing audience in whatever village they may stop. Their ballads are not confined to the scenes of their early history, but find subjects in the later wars with the Turks and Tartars, and in the campaigns of more modern times; they illustrate the warlike spirit, as well as the domestic relations of the Kozaks, and their skill in narrative, as well as their power of expressing in lyric strains the unsophisticated emotions of a tender heart.

The poets of the present age exercise little or no influence on a society distracted and absorbed by the political questions of the day.

Although the history of Russia is rich in dramatic episodes, it has failed to inspire any native dramatist. Count Tolstoi has been one of the most successful writers in this line, but, with great merits, he has the fault common to the Russian drama in general, that of great attention to the study of the chief character, to the neglect of other points which contribute to secure interest.

4. LITERATURE IN RUSSIA SINCE THE CRIMEAN WAR.—After the Crimean War, in 1854, the Russian government took the initiative in an onward movement, and by the abolition of serfdom the country awoke to new life. In literature this showed itself in the rise of a new school, that of Nature, in which Turgenieff (1818-1883) is the most prominent figure, a place which he still holds in contemporary Russian literature. The publication of his "Diary of a Sportsman" first made the nobility of Russia aware that the serf was a man capable of feeling and suffering, and not a brute to be bought and sold with the soil, and this work was not without its effect in causing the emancipation. No writer has studied so faithfully and profoundly the Russian peasant and better understood the moral needs of the time and the great questions which agitate it.

Within the last twenty years the new theory of Nihilism has begun to find expression in literature, particularly in fiction. Rejecting all authority in religion, politics, science, and art, this school is the reaction from long ages of oppression. The school of nature lent itself to this new movement until at last it reached the pessimistic standpoint of Schopenhauer.

Of late, the ultra-realistic school has appeared in Russia, the writers of which devote themselves to the study of a low realism in its most repulsive aspects. While it boasts of not idealizing the peasant, like Turgenieff and others, it presents him in an aspect to excite only aversion. Art being thus excluded, and the school having neither authority, principle, nor object, whatever influence it may have cannot but be pernicious.

SCIENCE.—In mathematics and in all the natural sciences Russia keeps pace with the most advanced European nations. In chemistry Mendeleéff formulated the theory relating to atoms and their chemical properties and relations, not then discovered to be the law by which they were governed, as later experiments proved.

THE SERVIAN LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE.

The Servian alphabet was first fixed and the language reduced to certain general rules only within the present century. The language extends, with some slight variations of dialect, and various systems of writing, over the Turkish and Austrian provinces of Servia, Bosnia, Herzegovina, Montenegro, and Dalmatia, and the eastern part of Croatia. The southern sky, and the beauties of natural scenery that abound in all these regions, so favorable to the development of poetical genius, appear also to have exerted a happy influence on the language. While it yields to none of the other Slavic dialects in richness, clearness, and precision, it far surpasses them all in euphony.

The most interesting feature of the literature of these countries is their popular poetry. This branch of literature still survives among the Slavic race, particularly the Servians and Dalmatians, in its beauty and luxuriance, while it is almost extinct in other nations. Much of this poetry is of unknown antiquity, and has been handed down by tradition from generation to generation. From the gray ages of paganism it reaches us like the chimes of distant bells, unconnected, and half lost in the air. It often manifests the strong, deep-rooted superstitions of the Slavic race, and is full of dreams, omens, and forebodings; witchcraft, and a certain Oriental fatalism, seeming to direct will and destiny. Love and heroism form the subject of all Slavic poetry, which is distinguished for the purity of manners it evinces. Wild passions or complicated actions are seldom represented, but rather the quiet scenes of domestic grief and joy. The peculiar relation of brother and sister, particularly among the Servians, often forms an interesting feature of the popular songs. To have no brother is a misfortune, almost a disgrace, and the cuckoo, the constant image of a mourning woman in Servian poetry, was, according to the legend, a sister who had lost her brother.

This poetry was first collected by Vuk Stephanovitch Karadshitch (b. 1786), a Turkish Servian, the author of the first Oriental Servian grammar and dictionary, who gathered the songs from the lips of the peasantry. His work, published at Vienna in 1815, has been made known to the world through a translation into German by the distinguished authoress of the "Languages and Literature of the Slavic Nations," from which this brief sketch has been made. Nearly one third of these songs consist of epic tales several hundred verses in length. The lyric songs compare favorably with those of other nations, but the long epic extemporized compositions, by which the peasant bard, in the circle of other peasants, in unpremeditated but regular and harmonious verse, celebrates the heroic deeds of their ancestors or contemporaries, have no parallel in the whole history of literature since the days of Homer.

The poetry of the Servians is intimately interwoven with their daily life. The hall where the women sit spinning around the fireside, the mountain on which the boys pasture their flocks, the square where the village youth assemble to dance, the plains where the harvest is reaped, and the forests through which the lonely traveler journeys, all resound with song. Short compositions, sung without accompaniment, are mostly composed by women, and are called female songs; they relate to domestic life, and are distinguished by cheerfulness, and often by a spirit of graceful roguery. The feeling expressed in the Servian love-songs is gentle, often playful, indicating more of tenderness than of passion. In their heroic poems the Servians stand quite isolated; no modern nation can be compared to them in epic productiveness, and the recent publication of these poems throws new light on the grand compositions of the ancients. The general character of these Servian tales is objective and plastic; the poet is, in most cases, in a remarkable degree above his subject; he paints his pictures, not in glowing colors, but in prominent features, and no explanation is necessary to interpret what the reader thinks he sees with his own eyes. The number and variety of the Servian heroic poems is immense, and many of them, until recently preserved only by tradition, cannot be supposed to have retained their original form; they are frequently interwoven with a belief in certain fanciful creatures of pagan superstition, which exercise a constant influence on human affairs. The poems are often recited, but most frequently sung to the music of a rude kind of guitar. The bard chants two lines, then he pauses and gives a few plaintive strokes on his instrument; then he chants again, and so on. While in Slavic poetry generally the musical element is prominent, in the Servian it is completely subordinate. Even the lyric poetry is in a high degree monotonous, and is chanted rather than sung.

Goethe, Grimm, and "Talvi" drew attention to these songs, many translations of which were published in Germany, and Bowring, Lytton, and others have made them known in England.

At present there is much intellectual activity among the Servians in various departments of literature, tragedy, comedy, satire, and fiction, but the names of the writers are new to Europeans, and not easily remembered.

THE BOHEMIAN LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE.

John Huss, Jerome of Prague, Tycho Brahe, Kepler, Comenius, and others.

The Bohemian is one of the principal Slavic languages. It is spoken in Bohemia and in Moravia, and is used by the Slovaks of Hungary in their literary productions. Of all the modern Slavic dialects, the Bohemian was the first cultivated; it early adopted the Latin characters, and was developed under the influence of the German language. In its free construction, the Bohemian approaches the Latin, and is capable of imitating the Greek in all its lighter shades.

The first written documents of the Bohemians are not older than the introduction of Christianity into their country; but there exists a collection of national songs celebrating battles and victories, which probably belongs to the eighth or ninth century. During the eleventh and twelfth centuries the influence of German customs and habits is apparent in Bohemian literature; and in the thirteenth and fourteenth this influence increased, and was manifest in the lyric poetry, which echoed the lays of the German Minnesingers. Of these popular songs, however, very few are left.

In 1348 the first Slavic university was founded in Prague, on the plan of those of Paris and Bologna, by the Emperor Charles IV., who united the crowns of Germany and Bohemia. The influence of this institution was felt, not merely in the two countries, but throughout Europe.

The name of John Huss (1373-1415) stands at the head of a new period in Bohemian literature. He was professor at the university of Prague, and early became acquainted with the writings of Wickliffe, whose doctrines he defended in his lectures and sermons. The care and attention he bestowed on his compositions exerted a decided and lasting influence on the language. The old Bohemian alphabet he arranged anew, and first settled the Bohemian orthography according to fixed principles. Summoned to appear before the council of Constance to answer to the charges of heresy, he obeyed the call under a safe-conduct from the Emperor Sigismund. But he was soon arrested by order of the council, condemned, and burned alive.

Among the coadjutors of Huss was Jerome of Prague, a professor in the same university, who in his erudition and eloquence surpassed his friend, whose doctrinal views he adopted, but he had not the mildness of disposition nor the moderation of conduct which distinguished Huss. He wrote several works for the instruction of the people, and translated some of the writings of Wickliffe into the Bohemian language. On hearing of the dangerous situation of his friend he hastened to Constance to assist and support him. He, too, was arrested, and even terrified into temporary submission; but at the next audience of the council he reaffirmed his faith, and declared that of all his sins he repented of none more than his apostasy from the doctrines he had maintained. In consequence of this avowal he was condemned to the same fate as his friend.

These illustrious martyrs were, with the exception of Wickliffe, the first advocates of truth a century before the Reformation. Since then, in no language has the Bible been studied with more zeal and devotion than in the Bohemian. The long contest for freedom of conscience which desolated the country until the extinction of the nation is one of the great tragedies of human history.

The period from 1520 to 1620 is considered the golden age of Bohemian literature. Nearly two hundred writers distinguished the reign of Rudolph I. (1526-1611), and among them were many ladies and gentlemen of the court, of which Tycho Brahe, Kepler, and other scientific men, from foreign countries, were the chief ornaments. Numerous historical works were published, theology was cultivated with talent and zeal, the eloquence of the pulpit and the bar acquired a high degree of cultivation, and in religious hymns all sects were equally productive.

The triumph of the Catholic party, which followed the battle of the White Mountain, near Prague (1620), gave a fatal blow to Bohemia. The leading men of the country were executed, exiled, or imprisoned; the Protestant religion was abolished, and the country was declared a hereditary Catholic monarchy. The Bohemian language ceased to be used in public transactions; and every book written in it was condemned to the flames as necessarily heretical. Great numbers of monks came from southern Europe, and seized whatever native books they could find; and this destruction continued to go on until the close of the last century.

Among the Bohemian emigrants who continued to write in their foreign homes, Comenius (1592-1691) surpassed all others. When the great persecution of the Protestants broke out he fled to Poland, and in his exile he published several works in Latin and in Bohemian, distinguished for the classical perfection of their style.

In the latter part of the eighteenth century the efforts to introduce into Bohemia the German as the official language of the country awoke the national feeling of the people, and produced a strong reaction in favor of their native tongue. When the tolerant views of Joseph II. were known, more than a hundred thousand Protestants returned to their country; books long hidden were brought to light, and many works were reprinted. During the reign of his two successors, the Bohemians received still more encouragement; the use of the language was ordained in all the schools, and a knowledge of it was made a necessary qualification for office. Among the writers who exerted a favorable influence in this movement may be mentioned Kramerius (1753-1808), the editor of the first Bohemian newspaper, and the author of many original works; Dobrovsky (1753-1829), the patriarch of modern Slavic literature, and one of the profoundest scholars of the age; and Kollar (b. 1763), the leading poet of modern times in the Bohemian language. Schaffarik (b. 1795), a Slovak, is the author of a "History of the Slavic Language and Literature," in German, which has, perhaps, contributed more than any other work to a knowledge of Slavic literature. Palacky, a Moravian by birth, was the faithful fellow- laborer of Schaffarik; his most important work is a "History of Bohemia."

Since 1848 there has arisen a school of poets whose writings are more in accordance with those of the western nations. Among them are Hálek (d. 1874) and Cech, the most celebrated of living Bohemian poets. Caroline Soêtla (b. 1830) is the originator of the modern Bohemian novel. Since 1879 many poems have appeared, epic in their character, taking their materials both from the past and the present. In various branches of literature able writers are found, too numerous even to name.

THE POLISH LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE.

Rey, Bielski, Copernicus, Czartoryski, Niemcewicz, Mickiewicz, and others.

The Polish language is the only existing representative of that variety of idioms originally spoken by the Slavic tribes, which, under the name of Lekhes, in the sixth or seventh century, settled on the banks of the Vistula and Varta. Although very little is known of the progress of the language into its present state, it is sufficiently obvious that it has developed from the conflict of its natural elements with the Latin and German idioms. Of the other Slavic dialects, the Bohemian is the only one which has exerted any influence upon this tongue. The Polish language is refined and artificial in its grammatical structure, rich in its words and phrases, and, like the Bohemian, capable of faithfully imitating the refinements of the classical languages. It has a great variety and nicety of shades in the pronunciation of the vowels, and such combinations of consonants as can only be conquered by a Slavic tongue.

The literary history of Poland begins, like that of Bohemia, at the epoch of the introduction of Christianity. In the year 965, Miecislav, Duke of Poland, married the Bohemian princess Dombrovka, who consented to the marriage on the condition of the duke becoming a convert to Christianity; and from that time the Polish princes, and the greater part of the nation, adopted the new faith. The clergy in those early ages in Poland, as well as elsewhere, were the depositaries of mental light; and the Benedictine monks who, with others, had been invited to the converted country, founded convents, to which they early attached schools. Their example was followed, at a later period, by other orders, and for several centuries the natives were excluded from all clerical dignities and privileges, and the education of the country was directed by foreign monks. They burned the few writings which they found in the vernacular tongue, and excited unnatural prejudices against it. From the ninth to the sixteenth century Polish literature was almost entirely confined to the translation of a part of the Bible and a few chronicles written in Latin. Among these must be noticed the chronicle of Martin Gallus (d. 1132), an emigrant Frenchman, who is considered as the oldest historian of Poland.

Casimir (1333-1370) was one of the few princes who acquired the name of the Great, not by conquests, but by the substantial benefits of laws, courts of justice, and means of education, which he procured for his subjects. In his reign was formed the first code of laws, known by the name of "Statute of Wislica," a part of which is written in the Polish language; and he laid the foundation of the university of Cracow (1347), which, however, was only organized half a century later. Hedevig, the granddaughter of Casimir, married Jagello of Lithuania, and under their descendants, who reigned nearly two centuries, Poland rose to the summit of power and glory. With Sigismund I. (1505-1542), and Sigismund Augustus (1542-1613), a new period of Polish literature begins. The university of Cracow had been organized in 1400, on the model of that of Prague, and this opened a door for the doctrines, first of the Bohemian, then of the German reformers. The wild flame of superstition which kindled the fagots for the disciples of the new doctrines in Poland was extinguished by Sigismund I. and Sigismund II., in whom the Reformation found a decided support. Under their administration Poland was the seat of a toleration then unequaled in the world; the Polish language became more used in literary productions, and was fixed as the medium through which laws and decrees were promulgated.

Rey of Naglowic (1515-1569), who lived at the courts of the Sigismunds, is called the father of Polish poetry. Most of his productions are of a religious nature, and bear the stamp of a truly poetical talent. John Kochanowski (1530-1584) published a translation of the Psalms, which is still considered as a classical work. His other poems, in which Pindar, Anacreon, and Horace were alternately his models, are distinguished for their conciseness and terseness of style. Rybinski (fl. 1581) and Simon Szymonowicz (d. 1629), the former as a lyric poet, the latter as a writer of idyls, maintain a high rank.

The Poles possess all the necessary qualities for oratory, and the sixteenth century was eminent for forensic and pulpit eloquence. History was cultivated with much zeal, but mostly in the Latin language. Martin Bielski (1500-1576) was the author of the "Chronicle of Poland," the first historical work in Polish. Scientific works were mostly written in Latin, the cultivation of which, in Poland, has ever kept pace with the study of the vernacular tongue. Indeed, the most eminent writers and orators of the sixteenth century, who made use of the Polish language, managed the Latin with equal skill and dexterity, and in common conversation both Latin and Polish were used.

Among the scientific writers of Latin is the astronomer Copernicus (1473- 1543). He early went to Italy, and was appointed professor of mathematics at Rome. He at length returned to Poland, and devoted himself to the study of astronomy. Having spent twenty years in observations and calculations, he brought his scheme to perfection, and established the theory of the universe which is now everywhere received.

The interval between 1622 and 1760 marks a period of a general decadence in Polish literature. The perversion of taste which, at the beginning of that age, reigned in Italy, and thence spread over Europe, reached Poland; and for nearly a hundred and fifty years the country, under the influence of the Jesuits, was the victim of a stifling intolerance, and of a general mental paralysis. But in the reign of Stanislaus Augustus (1762-1795), Poland began to revive, and the national literature received a new impulse. Though the French language and manners prevailed, and the bombastic school of Marini was only supplanted by that of the cold and formal poets of France, the cultivation of the Polish language was not neglected; a periodical work, to which the ablest men of the country contributed, was published, public instruction was made one of the great concerns of the government, and the power of the Jesuits was destroyed.

The dissolution of the kingdom which soon followed, its partition and amalgamation with foreign nations, kindled anew the patriotic spirit of the Poles, who devoted themselves with more zeal than ever to the cultivation of their native language, the sole tie which still binds them together. The following are the principal representatives of this period: Stephen Konarski (1700-1773), a writer on politics and education, who devoted himself entirely to the literary and mental reform of his country; Zaluski (1724-1786), known more especially as the founder of a large library, which, at the dismemberment of Poland, was transferred to St. Petersburg; and, above all, Adam Czartoryski (1731-1823), and the two brothers Potocki, distinguished as statesmen, orators, writers, and patrons of literature and art. At the head of the historical writers of the eighteenth century stands Naruszewicz (1753-1796), whose history of Poland is considered as a standard work. In respect to erudition, philosophical conception, and purity of style, it is a masterpiece of Polish literature. Krasicki (1739-1802), the most distinguished poet under Stanislaus Augustus, was called the Polish Voltaire. His poems and prose writings are replete with wit and spirit, though bearing evident marks of French influence, which was felt in almost all the poetical productions of that age.

Niemcewicz (1787-1846) is regarded as one of the greatest poets of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Having fought by the side of Kosciusko, and shared his fate as a prisoner, he accompanied him to America, where he became the friend and associate of Washington, whose life he afterwards described. His other works consist of historical songs, dramas, and a history of the reign of Sigismund.

There is no branch of literature in which the Poles have manifested greater want of original power than in the drama, where the influence of the French school is decided, and, indeed, exclusive. Novels and tales, founded on domestic life, are not abundant in Polish literature; philosophy has had few votaries, and the other sciences, with the exception of the mathematical and physical branches, have been, till recently, neglected.

The failure of the revolution of 1830 forms a melancholy epoch in Polish history, and especially in Polish literature. The universities of Warsaw and Wilna were broken up, and their rich libraries removed to St. Petersburg. Even the lower schools were mostly deprived of their funds, and changed to Russian government schools. The press was placed under the strictest control, the language and the national peculiarities of the country were everywhere persecuted, the Russian tongue and customs substituted, and the poets and learned men either silenced or banished. Yet since that time the national history has become more than ever a chosen study with the people; and as the results of these researches, since 1830, cannot be written in Poland, Paris has become the principal seat of Polish learning. One of the first works of importance published there was the "History of the Polish Insurrection," by Mochnachi (1804- 1835), known before as the author of a work on the Polish literature of the nineteenth century, and as the able editor of several periodicals. Lelewel, one of the leaders of the revolution, wrote a work on the civil rights of the Polish peasantry, which has exercised a more decided influence in Poland than that of any modern author. Miekiewicz (1798- 1843), a leader of the same revolution, is the most distinguished of the modern poets of Poland. His magnificent poem of "The Feast of the Dead" is a powerful expression of genius. His "Sonnets on the Crimea" are among his happiest productions, and his "Sir Thaddeus" is a graphic description of the civil and domestic life of Lithuania. Mickiewicz is the founder of the modern romantic school in Poland, to which belong the most popular productions of Polish literature. Zalesski, Grabowski, and others of this school have chosen the Ukraine as the favorite theatre of their poems, and give us pictures of that country, alternately sweet, wild, and romantic.

Of all the Slavic nations, the Poles have most neglected their popular poetry, a fact which may be easily explained in a nation among whom whatever refers to mere boors and serfs has always been regarded with the utmost contempt. Their beautiful national dances, however, the graceful Polonaise, the bold Masur, the ingenious Cracovienne, are equally the property of the nobility and peasantry, and were formerly always accompanied by singing instead of instrumental music. These songs were extemporized, and were probably never committed to writing.

The centre of literary activity in Poland is Warsaw, which, in spite of the severe restrictions on the press, has always maintained its preëminence.

ROUMANIAN LITERATURE.

Carmen Sylva.

The kingdom of Roumania, composed of the principalities of Moldavia and Wallachia, united in 1859, has few literary monuments. The language is Wallachian, in which the Latin predominates, with a mixture of Slavic, Turkish, and Tartar, and has only of late been classed with the Romance languages, by the side of Italian, Spanish, and Portuguese. There are some historical fragments of the fifteenth century remaining; the literature that followed was mostly theological. In recent times a great number of learned and poetical works have been produced, and political movements have led to many political writings and to the establishment of many newspapers.

The most distinguished name in Roumanian literature is that of "Carmen Sylva," the nom de plume of the beautiful and gifted queen of that country, whose writings in prose and verse are remarkable for passionate feeling, grace, and finished execution.

DUTCH LITERATURE.

1. The Language.—2. Dutch Literature to the Sixteenth Century: Maerlant;
Melis Stoke; De Weert; the Chambers of Rhetoric; the Flemish Chroniclers;
the Rise of the Dutch Republic.—3. The Latin Writers: Erasmus; Grotius;
Arminius; Lipsius; the Scaligers, and others; Salmasius; Spinoza;
Boerhaave; Johannes Secundus.—4. Dutch Writers of the Sixteenth Century:
Anna Byns; Coornhert; Marnix de St. Aldegonde, Bor, Visscher, and
Spieghel.—5. Writers of the Seventeenth Century: Hooft; Vondel; Cats;
Antonides; Brandt, and others; Decline in Dutch Literature.—6. The
Eighteenth Century: Poot; Langendijk; Hoogvliet; De Marre; Feitama;
Huydecoper; the Van Harens; Smits; Ten Kate; Van Winter; Van Merken; De
Lannoy; Van Alphen; Bellamy; Nieuwland, Styl, and others.—7. The
Nineteenth Century: Feith; Helmers; Bilderdyk; Van der Palm; Loosjes;
Loots, Tollens, Van Kampen, De s'Gravenweert, Hoevill, and others.

1. THE LANGUAGE.—The Dutch, Flemish, and Frisic languages, spoken in the kingdoms of Holland and Belgium, are branches of the Gothic family. Toward the close of the fifteenth century, the Dutch gained the ascendency over the others, which it has never since lost. This language is energetic and flexible, rich in synonyms and delicate shades, and from its fullness and strength, better adapted to history, tragedy, and odes, than to comedy and the lighter kinds of poetry. The Flemish, which still remains the literary language of the southern provinces, is inferior to the Dutch, and has been greatly corrupted by the admixture of foreign words. The Frisic, spoken in Friesland, is an idiom less cultivated than the others, and is gradually disappearing. In the seventeenth century it boasted of several writers, of whom the poet Japix was the most eminent. The first grammar of the Frisic language was published by Professor Rask, of Copenhagen, in 1825. In some parts of Belgium the Walloon, an old dialect of the French, is still spoken, but the Flemish continues to be the common language of the people, although since the establishment of Belgium as an independent kingdom the use of the French language has prevailed among the higher classes.

2. DUTCH LITERATURE TO THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY.—When the obscurity of the dark ages began to disappear with the revival of letters, the Netherlands were not last among the countries of Europe in coming forth from the darkness. The cities of Flanders were early distinguished for the commercial activity and industrial skill of their inhabitants. Bruges reached the height of its splendor in the beginning of the fifteenth century, and was for some time one of the great commercial emporiums of the world, to which Constantinople, Genoa, and Venice sent their precious argosies laden with the products of the East. At the close of the thirteenth century Ghent, in wealth and power, eclipsed the French metropolis; and at the end of the fifteenth century there was, according to Erasmus, no town in all Christendom to compare with it for magnitude, power, political institutions, or the culture of its citizens. The lays of the minstrels and the romances of chivalry were early translated, and a Dutch version of "Reynard the Fox" was made in the middle of the thirteenth century. Jakob Maerlant (1235-1300), the first author of note, translated the Bible into Flemish rhyme, and made many versions of the classics; and Melis Stoke, his contemporary, wrote a rhymed "Chronicle of Holland."

The most important work of the fourteenth century is the "New Doctrine," by De Weert, which, for the freedom of its expression on religious subjects, may be regarded as one of the precursors of the Reformation.

Towards the close of the fourteenth century there arose a class of wandering poets called Sprekers, who, at the courts of princes and elsewhere, rehearsed their maxims in prose or verse. In the fifteenth century they formed themselves into literary societies, known as "Chambers of Rhetoric" (poetry being at that time called the "Art of Rhetoric"), which were similar to the Guilds of the Meistersingers. These institutions were soon multiplied throughout the country, and the members exercised themselves in rhyming, or composed and performed mysteries and plays, which, at length, gave rise to the theatre. They engaged in poetical contests, distributed prizes, and were prominent in all national fêtes. The number of the rhetoricians was so immense, that during the reign of Philip II. of Spain more than thirty chambers, composed of fifteen hundred members, often entered Antwerp in triumphal procession. But the effect of these associations, composed for the most part of illiterate men, was to destroy the purity of the language and to produce degeneracy in the literature. The Chamber of Amsterdam, however, was an honorable exception, and towards the close of the sixteenth century it counted among its members distinguished scholars, such as Spieghel, Coornhert, Marnix, and Visscher, and it may be considered as the school which formed Hooft and Vondel.

During the reign of the House of Burgundy (1383-1477), which was essentially French in tastes and manners, the native tongue became corrupted by the admixture of foreign elements. The poets and chroniclers of the time were chiefly of Flemish origin; the most widely known among the latter are Henricourt (d. 1403), Monstrelet (d. 1453), and Chastelain (d. 1475). A translation of the Bible and a few more works close the literary record of the fifteenth century.

The invention of printing, the great event of the age, is claimed by the cities of Mayence, Strasbourg, and Harlem; but if the art which preserves literature originated in the Netherlands, it did not at once create a native literature, the growth of which was greatly retarded by the use of the Latin tongue, which long continued to be the organ of expression with the principal writers of the country, nearly all of whom, even to the present day, are distinguished for the purity and elegance with which they compose in this language.

The Reformation and the great political agitations of the sixteenth century ended in the independence of the northern provinces and the establishment of the Dutch Republic (1581) under the name of the United Provinces, commonly called Holland, from the province of that name, which was superior to the others in extent, population, and influence. The new republic rose rapidly in power; and while intolerance and religious disputes distracted other European states, it offered a safe asylum to the persecuted of all sects. The expanding energies of the people soon sought a field beyond the narrow boundaries of the country; their ships visited every sea, and they monopolized the richest commerce of the world. They alone supplied Europe with the productions of the Spice Islands, and the gold, pearls, and jewels of the East all passed through their hands; and in the middle of the seventeenth century the United Provinces were the first commercial and the first maritime power in the world. A rapid development of the literature was the natural consequence of this increasing national development, which was still more powerfully promoted by the great and wise William I., Prince of Orange, who in 1575 founded the university of Leyden as a reward to that city for its valiant defense against the Spaniards. Similar institutions were soon established at Groningen, Utrecht, and elsewhere; these various seats of learning produced a rivalry highly advantageous to the diffusion of knowledge, and great men arose in all branches of science and literature. Among the distinguished names of the sixteenth century those of the Latin writers occupy the first place.

3. LATIN WRITERS.—One of the great restorers of letters in Europe, and one of the most elegant of modern Latin authors, was Gerard Didier, a native of Rotterdam, who took the name of Erasmus (1467-1536). To profound learning he joined a refined taste and a delicate wit, and few men have been so greatly admired as he was during his lifetime. The principal sovereigns of Europe endeavored to draw him into their kingdoms. He several times visited England, where he was received with great deference by Henry VIII., and where he gave lectures on Greek literature at Cambridge. He made many translations from Greek authors, and a very valuable translation of the New Testament into Latin. His writings introduced the spirit of free inquiry on all subjects, and to his influence may be attributed the first dawning of the Reformation. But his caution offended some of the best men of the times. His treatise on "Free Will" made an open breach between him and Luther, whose opinions favored predestination; his "Colloquies" gave great offense to the Catholics; and as he had not declared for the Protestants, he had but lukewarm friends in either party. It has been said of Erasmus, that he would have purified and repaired the venerable fabric of the church, with a light and cautious touch, fearful lest learning, virtue, and religion should be buried in its fall, while Luther struck at the tottering ruin with a bold and reckless hand, confident that a new and more beautiful temple would rise from its ruins.

Hugo de Groot, who, according to the fashion of the time, took the Latin name of Grotius (1583-1645), was a scholar and statesman of the most diversified talents, and one of the master minds of the age. He was involved in the religious controversy which at that time disturbed Holland, and he advocated the doctrines of Arminius, in common with the great statesman, Barneveldt, whom he supported and defended by his pen and influence. On the execution of Barneveldt, Grotius was condemned to imprisonment for life in the castle of Louvestein; but after nearly two years spent in the prison, his faithful wife planned and effected his escape. She had procured the privilege of sending him a chest of books, which occasionally passed and repassed, closely scrutinized. On one occasion the statesman took the place of the books, and was borne forth from the prison in the chest, which is still in the possession of the descendants of Grotius, in his native city of Delft. The States-General perpetuated the memory of the devoted wife by continuing to give her name to a frigate in the Dutch navy. After his escape from prison, Grotius found an asylum in Sweden, from whence he was sent ambassador to France. His countrymen at length repented of having banished the man who was the honor of his native land, and he was recalled; but on his way to Holland he was taken ill and died before he could profit by this tardy act of justice. The writings of Grotius greatly tended to diffuse an enlightened and liberal manner of thinking in all matters of science. He was a profound theologian, a distinguished scholar, an acute philosopher and jurist, and among the modern Latin poets he holds a high place. The philosophy of jurisprudence has been especially promoted by his great work on natural and national law, which laid the foundation of a new science.

Arminius (1560-1609), the founder of the sect of Arminians or Remonstrants, was distinguished as a preacher and for his zeal in the Reformed Religion. He attempted to soften the Calvinistic doctrines of predestination, in which he was violently opposed by Gomarus. He counted among his adherents Grotius, Barneveldt, and many of the eminent men of Holland. Other eminent theologians of this period were Drusius and Coeceius.

Lipsius (1547-1606) is known as a philologist and for his treatises on the military art of the Romans, on the Latin classics, and on the philosophy of the Stoics. Another scholar of extensive learning, whose editions of the principal Greek and Latin classics have rendered him famous all over Europe, was Daniel Heinsius (1580-1655). Gronovius and several of the members of the Spanheim family became also eminent for their scholarship in various branches of ancient learning.

The two Scaligers, father and son (1483-1554) (1540-1609), Italians, resident in Holland, are eminent for their researches in chronology and archaeology, and for their valuable works on the classics. Prominent among those who followed in the new path of philological study opened by the elder Scaliger was Vossius, or Voss (1577-1649), who excelled in many branches of learning, and particularly in Latin philology, which owes much to him. He left five sons, all scholars of note, especially the youngest, Isaac Vossius (1618-1689).

Peter Burmann (1668-1741) was a scholar of great erudition and industry.

Christian Huyghens (1629-1695) was a celebrated astronomer and mathematician, and many great men in those branches of science flourished in Holland in the seventeenth century. Among the great philologists and scholars must also be mentioned Hemsterhuis, Ruhnkenius, and Valckenaer.

Menno van Coehorn (1641-1704) was a general and engineer distinguished for his genius in military science; his great work on fortifications has been translated into many foreign languages. Helmont and Boerhaave have acquired world-wide fame by their labors in chemistry; Linnaeus collected the materials for his principal botanical work from the remarkable botanical treasures of Holland; and zoology and the natural sciences generally counted many devoted and eminent champions in that country.

Salmasius (1588-1653), though born in France, is ranked among the writers of Holland. He was professor in the University of Leyden, and was celebrated for the extent and depth of his erudition. He wrote a defense of Charles I. of England, which was answered by Milton, in a work entitled "A Defense of the English People against Salmasius' Defense of the King." Salmasius died soon after, and some did not scruple to say that Milton killed him by the acuteness of his reply.

Boerhaave (1668-1738) was one of the most eminent writers on medical science in the eighteenth century, and from the time of Hippocrates no physician had excited so much admiration. Spinoza (1632-1677) holds a commanding position as a philosophical writer. His metaphysical system, as expounded in his principal work, "Ethica," merges everything individual and particular in the Divine substance, and is thus essentially pantheistic. The philosophy of Spinoza exercised a powerful influence upon the mind of Kant, and the master-minds and great poets of modern times, particularly of Germany, have drawn copiously from the deep wells of his suggestive thought.

Among the many Latin poets of Holland, John Everard (1511-1536) (called Jan Second or Johannes Secundus, because he had an uncle of the same name) is most celebrated. His poem entitled "The Basia or Kisses" has been translated into the principal European languages. Nicholas Heinsius (1620- 1681), son of the great philologist and poet Heinsius, wrote various Latin poems, the melody of which is so sweet that he was called by his contemporaries the "Swan of Holland."

4. DUTCH WRITERS OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY.—The first writer of this century in the native language was Anna Byns, who has been called the Flemish Sappho. She was bitterly opposed to the Reformation, and such of her writings as were free from religious intolerance evince more poetic fire than is found in those of her contemporaries. Coornhert (1522-1605) was a poet and philosopher, distinguished not less by his literary works than by his participation in the revolution of the Provinces. In purity of style and vigor of thought he far surpassed his predecessors. Marnix de St. Aldegonde (d. 1598) was a soldier, a statesman, a theologian, and a poet. He was the author of the celebrated "Compromise of the Nobles," and his satire on the Roman Catholic Church was one of the most effective productions of the time. He translated the Psalms from the original Hebrew, and was the author of a lyric which, after two centuries and a half, is still the rallying song of the nation on all occasions of peril or triumph.

Bor (1559-1635) was commissioned by the States to write a history of their struggles with Spain, and his work is still read and valued for its truthfulness and impartiality. Meteren, the contemporary of Bor, wrote the history of the country from the accession of the House of Burgundy to the year 1612—a work which, with some faults, has a high place in the literature.

Visscher (d. 1612) and Spieghel (d. 1613) form the connecting link between the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Visscher, the Maecenas of the day, was distinguished for his epigrammatic and fugitive poems, and rendered immense service to letters by his influence on the literary men of his time. His charming daughters were both distinguished in literature. Spieghel is best remembered by his poem, the "Mirror of the Heart," which abounds in lofty ideas, and in sentiments of enlightened patriotism.

5. THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY.—At the close of the sixteenth century, although the language was established, it still remained hard and inflexible, and the literature was still destitute of dramatic, erotic, and the lighter kinds of poetry; but an earnest, patriotic, religious, and national character was impressed upon it, and its golden age was near at hand.

The commencement of the seventeenth century saw the people of the United Provinces animated by the same spirit and energy, preferring death to the abandonment of their principles, struggling with a handful of men against the most powerful monarchy of the time; conquering their political and religious independence, after more than half a century of conflict, and giving to the world a great example of freedom and toleration; covering the ocean with their fleets, and securing possessions beyond the sea a hundred times more vast than the mother country; becoming the centre of universal commerce, and cultivating letters, the sciences, and the arts, with equal success. Poetry was national, for patriotism predominated over all other sentiments; and it was original, because it recognized no models of imitation but the classics.

The spirit of the age naturally communicated itself to the men of letters, who soon raised the literature of the country to a classic height; first among these were Hooft, Vondel, and Jacob Cats.

Hooft (1581-1647), a tragic and lyric poet as well as a historian, greatly developed and perfected the language, and by a careful study of the Italian poets imparted to his native tongue that sonorous sweetness which has since characterized the poetry of Holland. He was the creator of native tragedy, as well as of erotic verse, in which his style is marked by great sweetness, tenderness, and grace. He rendered still greater service to the native prose. His histories of "Henry IV.," of the "House of Medici," and above all the history of the "War of Independence in the Low Countries," without sacrificing truth, often border on poetry, in their brilliant descriptions and paintings of character, and in their nervous and energetic style. Hooft was a man of noble heart; he dared to protect Grotius in the days of his persecution; he defended Descartes and offered an asylum to Galileo.

Vondel (1587-1660), as a lyric, epic, and tragic poet, far surpassed all his contemporaries, and his name is honored in Holland as that of Shakspeare is in England. His tragedies, which are numerous, are his most celebrated productions, and among them "Palamedes Unjustly Sacrificed" is particularly interesting as representing the heroic firmness of Barneveldt, who repeated one of the odes of Horace when undergoing the torture. Vondel excelled as a lyric and epigrammatic poet, and the faults of his style belonged rather to his age than to himself.

No writer of the time acquired a greater or more lasting reputation than Jacob Cats (1577-1660), no less celebrated for the purity of his life than for the sound sense and morality of his writings, and the statesmanlike abilities which he displayed as ambassador in England, and as grand pensioner of Holland. His style is simple and touching, his versification easy and harmonious, and his descriptive talent extraordinary. His works consist chiefly of apologues and didactic and descriptive poems. No writer of Holland has been more read than Father Cats, as the people affectionately call him; and up to the present hour, in all families his works have their place beside the Bible, and his verses are known by heart all over the country. An illustrated edition of his poems in English has been recently published in London.

Hooft and Vondel left many disciples and imitators, among whom are Antonides (1647-1684), surnamed Van der Goes, whose charming poem on the River Y, the model of several similar compositions, is still read and admired. Among numerous other writers were Huygens (b. 1596), a poet who wrote in many languages besides his own; Heinsius (b. 1580), a pupil of Scaliger, the author of many valuable works in prose and poetry; Vallenhoven, contemporary with Antonides, a religious poet; Rotgans, the author of an epic poem on William of England; Elizabeth Hoofman (b. 1664), a poetess of rare elegance and taste, and Wellekens (b. 1658), whose eclogues and idyls occupy the first place among that class of poems. As a historian Hooft found a worthy successor in Brandt (1626-1683), also a poet, but best known by his "History of the Reformation in the Netherlands," which has been translated into French and English, and which is a model in point of style. At this period the Bible was translated and commented upon, and biographies, criticisms, and many other prose works appeared. The voyages and discoveries of the Dutch merchants and navigators were illustrated by numerous narratives, which, for their interest both in style and detail, deserve honorable mention.

From the commencement of the last quarter of the seventeenth century, however, many causes combined to produce a decline in the literature of the Netherlands. The honors which were accorded not only by the Dutch universities, but by all Europe to their Latin writers and learned professors, were rarely bestowed on writers in the native tongue, and thus the minds of men of genius were turned to the study of the classics and the sciences. The Dutch merchants, while they cultivated all other languages for the facilities they thus gained in their commercial transactions, restricted by so much the diffusion of their own. Other causes of this decline are to be found in the indifference of the republican government to the interests of literature, and in the increasing number of alliances with foreigners, who were attracted to Holland by the mildness of its laws, in the growing commercial spirit and taste for luxury, and especially in the influence of French literature, which, towards the close of the seventeenth century, became predominant in Holland as elsewhere.

6. THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.—For the first three quarters of the eighteenth century the literature of Holland, like that of other countries of Europe, with the exception of France, remained stationary, or slowly declined. But in the midst of universal mediocrity, a few names shine with distinguished lustre. Among them that of Poot (1689-1732) is commonly cited with those of Hooft and Vondel. He was a young peasant, whose rare genius found expression in a sweet and unaffected style. He excelled in idyllic and erotic poetry, and while he has no rival in Holland, he may perhaps be compared to Burns in Scotland, and Béranger in France. The theatre of Amsterdam, the only one of the country, continued to confine itself to translations or imitations from the French. There appeared, however, at the commencement of this period, an original comic author, Langendijk (1662-1735), whose works still hold their place upon the stage, partly for their merit, and partly to do honor to the only comic poet Holland has produced.

Hoogvliet (1689-1763) was distinguished as the author of a poem entitled "Abraham," which had great and merited success, and which still ranks among the classics; for some years after it appeared, it produced a flood of imitations.

De Marre (b. 1696), among numerous writers of tragedy, occupies the first place. From his twelfth year he was engaged in the merchant marine service, and besides his tragedies his voyages inspired many other works, the chief of which, a poem entitled "Batavia," celebrates the Dutch domination in the Asiatic archipelago. Feitama (1694-1758), with less poetic merit than De Marre, had great excellence. He was the first translator of the classics who succeeded in imparting to his verse the true spirit of his originals.

Huydecoper (d. 1778) was the first grammarian of merit, and he united great erudition with true poetic power. His tragedies are still represented.

Onno Zwier Van Haren (1713-1789) was also a writer of tragedy, and the author of a long poem in the epic style, called the Gueux (beggars), a name given in derision to the allied noblemen of the Netherlands in the time of Philip, and adopted by them. This poem represents the great struggle of the country with Spain, which ended in the establishment of the Dutch republic, and is distinguished for its fine episodes, its brilliant pictures, and its powerful development of character.

The only strictly epic poem that Holland has produced is the "Friso" of William Van Haren (1710-1758), the brother of the one already named. Friso, the mythical founder of the Frisons, is driven from his home on the shores of the Ganges, and, after many adventures, finds an asylum and establishes his government in the country to which he gives his name. This work with many faults is full of beauties. The brothers Van Haren were free from all foreign influence, and may justly be regarded as the two great poets of their time. The poems of Smits (1702-1750) are full of grace and sentiment, but, like those of almost all the Dutch poets, they are characterized by a seriousness of tone nearly allied to melancholy. Ten Kate (1676-1723) stands first among the grammarians and etymologists, and his works are classical authorities on the subject of the language.

Preëminent among the crowd of historians is Wagenaar (1709-1773), the worthy successor of Hooft and Brandt, whose "History of the United Provinces" is particularly valuable for its simplicity of style and truthfulness of detail.

Of the lighter literature, Van Effen, who had visited England, produced in French the "Spectator," in imitation of the English periodical, and, like that, it is still read and considered classical.

Towards the conclusion of the century, other periodicals were established, which, in connection with literary societies and academies, exercised great influence on literature. The contemporary writers of Germany were also read and translated, and henceforth in some degree they counterbalanced French influence.

First among the writers who mark the close of the eighteenth century are Van Winter (d. 1795), and his distinguished wife, Madame Van Merken (d. 1789). They published conjointly a volume of tragedies in which the chief merit of those of Van Winter consists in their originality and in the expression of those sentiments of justice, humanity, and equality before the law, which were just then beginning to find a voice in Europe.

Madame Van Merken, who, late in life, married Van Winter, has been called the Racine of Holland. To masculine energy and power she united all the virtues and sweetness of her own sex. Besides many long poems, she was the author of several tragedies, many of which have remarkable merit. Madame Van Merken gave a new impulse to the literature of her country, of which she is one of the classic ornaments, and prepared the way for Feith and Bilderdyk.

The Baroness De Lannoy, the contemporary of Madame Van Merken, was, like her, eminent in tragedy and other forms of poetry, though less a favorite, for in that free country an illustrious birth has been ever a serious obstacle to distinction in the republic of letters.

Nomz (d. 1803) furnished the theatre of Amsterdam with many pieces, original and translated, and merited a better fate from his native city than to die in the public hospital.

The poets who mark the age from Madame Van Merken to Bilderdyk, are Van Alphen, Bellamy, and Nieuwland. Van Alphen (d. 1803) is distinguished for his patriotism, originality, and deeply religious spirit. His poems for children are known by heart by all the children of Holland, and he is their national poet, as Cats is the poet of mature life and old age. Bellamy, who died at the early age of twenty-eight years (1786), left many poems characterized by originality, force, and patriotic fervor, no less than by beauty and harmony of style. Nieuwland (d. 1794), like Bellamy, rose from the lower order of society by the force of his genius; at the age of twenty-three he was called to the chair of philosophy, mathematics, and astronomy at Utrecht, and later to the university of Leyden. He was equally great as a mathematician and as a poet in the Latin language as well as his own. All his productions are marked by elegance and power.

Styl (d. 1804) was a poet as well as a historian; one of the most valuable works on the history of the country is his "Growth and Prospects of the United Provinces." Te Water, Bondam, and Van de Spiegel contributed to the same department.

Romance writing has, with few exceptions, been surrendered to women. Among the romances of character and manners, those of Elizabeth Bekker Wolff (d. 1804) are distinguished for their brilliant and caustic style, and those of Agatha Deken for their earnest and enlightened piety. The works of both present lively pictures of national character and manners.

7. THE NINETEENTH CENTURY.—The political convulsions of the last years of the eighteenth century and the early part of the nineteenth, which overthrew the Dutch Republic, revolutionized the literature not less than the state,—and the new era was illustrated by its poets, historians, and orators. But in the elevation of inferior men by the popular party, the more eminent men of letters for a time withdrew from the field, and the noblest productions of native genius were forgotten in the flood of poor translations which inundated the country and corrupted the taste and the language by their Germanisms and Gallicisms.

Among the crowd of poets, a few only rose superior to the influences of the time. Feith (d. 1824) united a lofty patriotism to a brilliant poetical genius; his odes and other poems possess rare merit, and his prose is original, forcible, and elegant.

Helmers (d. 1813) is most honored for his poem, "The Dutch Nation," which, with some faults, abounds in beautiful episodes and magnificent passages.

Bilderdyk (1756-1831) is not only the greatest poet Holland has produced, but he is equally eminent as a universal scholar. He was a lawyer, a physician, a theologian, a historian, astronomer, draftsman, engineer, and antiquarian, and he was acquainted with nearly all the ancient and modern languages. In 1820 he published five cantos of a poem on "The Destruction of the Primitive World," which, though it remains unfinished, is a superb monument of genius and one of the literary glories of Holland. Bilderdyk excelled in every species of poetry, tragedy only excepted, and his published works fill more than one hundred octavo volumes.

Van der Palm (b. 1763) occupies the same place among the prose writers of the nineteenth century that Bilderdyk does among the poets. He held the highest position as a pulpit orator and member of the Council of State, and his discourses, orations, and other prose works are models of style, and are counted among the classics of the country. His great work, however, was the translation of the Bible.

Since the time of Bilderdyk and Van der Palm no remarkable genius has appeared in Holland.

Loosjes (d. 1806) added to his reputation as a poet by his historical romances, and Fokke (d. 1812) was a satirist of the follies and errors of his age. Among the historians who have devoted themselves to the history of foreign countries are Stuart, Van Hamelsveld, and Muntinghe, who, in a short space of time, enriched their native literature with more than sixty volumes of history, of a profoundly religious and philosophical character, which bear the stamp of originality and nationality.

The department of oratory in Dutch literature, with the exception of that of the pulpit, is poor, and this is to be explained in part by the fact that the deliberations of the States-General were always held with closed doors. Holland was an aristocratic republic, and the few families who monopolized the power had no disposition to share it with the people, who, on the other hand, were too much occupied with their own affairs and too confident of the wisdom and moderation of their rulers, to wish to mingle in the business of state. The National Assembly, however, from 1775 to 1800, had its orators, chiefly men carried into public life by the events of the age, but they were far inferior to those of other countries.

The impulse given to literature by Bilderdyk and Van der Palm is not arrested. Among the numerous authors who have since distinguished themselves, are Loots, a patriotic poet of the school of Vondel; Tollens, who ranks with the best native authors in descriptive poetry and romance; Wiselius, the author of several tragedies, a scholar and political writer; Klyn (d. 1856); Van Walré and Van Halmaal, dramatic poets of great merit; Da Costa and Madame Bilderdyk, who, as a poetess, shared the laurels of her husband. In romance, there are Anna Toussaint, Bogaers, and Jan Van Lennep, son of the celebrated professor of that name, who introduced into Holland historical romances modeled after those of Scott, and who contributed much to discard French and to popularize the national literature. In prose, De Vries must be named for his eloquent history of the poetry of the Netherlands; Van Kampen (1776-1839) for his historical works; Geysbeck for his biographical dictionary and anthology of the poets, and De s'Gravenweert, a poet and the translator of the Iliad and Odyssey. Von Hoevell is the author of a work on slavery, which appeared not many years since, the effect of which can be compared only to that of "Uncle Tom's Cabin."

In Belgium, Conscience is a successful author of fiction and history, and his works have been frequently translated into other languages. De Laet, one of the ablest writers of the country in connection with Conscience, has done much for the revival of Flemish literature, which now boasts of many original writers in various departments.

The literature of the Netherlands, like the people, is earnest, religious, always simple, and often elevated and sublime. It is especially distinguished for its reflective and patriotic character, and bears the mark of that accurate study of the classic models which has formed the basis of the national education, and to which its purity of taste, naturalness, and simplicity are undoubtedly to be attributed. There exists no nation of equal population which, within the course of two or three centuries, has produced a greater number of eminent men.

From the age of Hooft and Vondel to the present day, though the Dutch literature may have submitted at times to foreign influence, and though, like all others, it may have paid its tribute to the fashions and faults of the day, it has still preserved its nationality, and is worthy of being known and admired.

SCANDINAVIAN LITERATURE.

1. Introduction. The Ancient Scandinavians; their Influence on the English
Race.—2. The Mythology.—3. The Scandinavian Languages.—4. Icelandic, or
Old Norse Literature: the Poetic Edda, the Prose Edda, the Scalds, the
Sagas, the "Heimskringla," The Folks-Sagas and Ballads of the Middle
Ages.—5. Danish Literature: Saxo Grammaticus and Theodoric; Arreboe,
Kingo, Tycho Brahe, Holberg, Evald, Baggesen, Oehlenschläger, Grundtvig,
Blicher, Ingemann, Heiberg, Gyllenbourg, Winther, Hertz, Müller, Hans
Andersen, Plong, Goldschmidt, Hastrup, and others; Malte Brun, Rask, Rafn,
Magnusen, the brothers Oersted.—6. Swedish Literature: Messenius,
Stjernhjelm, Lucidor, and others. The Gallic period: Dalin, Nordenflycht,
Crutz and Gyllenborg, Gustavus III., Kellgren, Leopold, Oxenstjerna. The
New Era: Bellman, Hallman, Kexel, Wallenberg, Lidnor, Thorild, Lengren,
Franzen, Wallin. The Phosphorists: Atterborn, Hammarsköld, and Palmblad.
The Gothic School: Geijer, Tegnér, Stagnelius, Almquist, Vitalis,
Runeberg, and others. The Romance Writers: Cederborg, Bremer, Carlén,
Knorring. Science: Swedenborg, Linnaeus, and others.

1. INTRODUCTION.—It is a singular fact that the progressive and expanding spirit which characterizes the English race should be so universally referred to their Anglo-Saxon blood, while the transcendent influence of the Scandinavian element is entirely overlooked. The so-called Anglo- Saxons were a handful of people in Holstein, where they may still be found in inglorious obscurity, the reluctant subjects of Denmark. The early emigrants who bore that name, were, it is true, from various portions of Germany; but even if the glory of our English ancestry be transferred from Anglen, and spread over the whole country, we find a race bearing no resemblance to the English in their more active and powerful qualities, but an intellectual people, possessed of a patient and conceding nature, which, without other more aspiring attributes, doubtless would have left the English people in the same condition of political slavery that the Germans continue in to this day. Of all those institutions so commonly and gratuitously ascribed to them, of representative government, trial by jury, and such machinery of political and social independence, there is not a vestige to be found in any age in Germany, from the Christian era to the present time. During the period of their dominion in England, the Anglo-Saxons, so far from showing themselves an enterprising people were notoriously weak, slothful, and degenerate, overrun by the Danes, and soon permanently subjected by the Normans. It is evident, from the trifling resistance they made, that they had neither energy to fight, nor property, laws, nor institutions to defend, and that they were merely serfs on the lands of the nobles or of the church, who had nothing to lose by a change of masters. It is to the renewal of the original spirit of the Anglo- Saxons, by the fresh infusion of the Danish conquerors into a very large proportion of the whole population, in the eleventh century, that we must look for the actual origin of the national character and institutions of the English people, and for that check of popular opinion and will upon arbitrary rule which grew up by degrees, and which slowly but necessarily produced the English law, character, and institutions. These belong not to the German or Anglo-Saxon race settled in England previous to the tenth or eleventh century, but to that small, cognate branch of Northmen or Danes, who, between the ninth and twelfth centuries, brought their paganism, energy, and social institutions to conquer, mingle with, and invigorate the inert descendants of the old race. That this northern branch of the common race has been the more influential in the society of modern Europe, we need only compare England and the United States with Saxony, Prussia, Hanover, or any country of strictly ancient Teutonic descent, to be satisfied. From whatever quarter civil, religious, and political liberty and independence of mind may have come, it was not from the banks of the Rhine or the forests of Germany.

The difference in the spirit of the two branches of the same original race was immense, even at the earliest period. When the Danes and Norwegians overran England, the Germans had, for six centuries, been growing more and more pliant to despotic government, and the Scandinavians more and more bold and independent. At home they elected their kings, and decided everything by the general voice of the Althing, or open Parliament. Abroad they became the most daring of adventurers; their Vikings spread themselves along the shores of Europe, plundering and planting colonies; they subdued England, seized Normandy, besieged Paris, conquered a large portion of Belgium, and made extensive inroads into Spain. They made themselves masters of lower Italy and Sicily under Robert Guiscard, in the eleventh century; during the Crusades they ruled Antioch and Tiberias, under Tancred; and in the same century they marched across Germany, and established themselves in Switzerland, where the traditions of their arrival, and traces of their language still remain. In 861 they discovered Iceland, and soon after peopled it; thence they stretched still farther west, discovered Greenland, and proceeding southward, towards the close of the tenth century they struck upon the shores of North America, it would appear, near the coast of Massachusetts. They seized on Novogorod, and became the founders of the Russian Empire, and of a line of Czars which became extinct only in 1598, when the Slavonic dynasty succeeded. From Russia they made their way to the Black Sea, and in 866 appeared before Constantinople, where their attacks were bought off only on the payment of large sums by the degenerate emperors. From. 902 to the fall of the empire, the emperors retained a large body-guard of Scandinavians, who, armed with double-edged battle-axes, were renowned through the world, under the name of Varengar, or the Väringjar of the old Icelandic Sagas.

Such were the ancient Scandinavians. To this extraordinary people the English and their descendants alone bear any resemblance. In them the old Norse fire still burns, and manifests itself in the same love of martial daring and fame, the same indomitable seafaring spirit, the same passion for the discovery of new seas and new lands, and the same insatiable longing, when discovered, to seize and colonize them.

2. THE MYTHOLOGY.—The mythology of the northern nations, as represented in the Edda, was founded on Polytheism; but through it, as through the religion of all nations, there is dimly visible, like the sun shining through a dense cloud, the idea of one Supreme Being, of infinite power, boundless knowledge, and incorruptible justice, who could not be represented by any corporeal form. Such, according to Tacitus, was the supreme God of the Germans, and such was the primitive belief of mankind. Doubtless, the poet priests, who elaborated the imaginative, yet philosophical mythology of the north, were aware of the true and only God, infinitely elevated above the attributes of that Nature, which they shaped into deities for the multitude whom they believed incapable of more than the worship of the material powers which they saw working in everything around them.

The dark, hostile powers of nature, such as frost and fire, are represented as giants, "jotuns," huge, chaotic demons; while the friendly powers, the sun, the summer heat, all vivifying principles, were gods. From the opposition of light and darkness, water and fire, cold and heat, sprung the first life, the giant Ymer and his evil progeny the frost giants, the cow Adhumla, and Bor, the father of the god Odin. Odin, with his brothers, slew the giant Ymer, and from his body formed the heavens and earth. From two stems of wood they also shaped the first man and woman, whom they endowed with life and spirit, and from whom descended all the human race.

There were twelve principal deities among the Scandinavians, of whom Odin was the chief. There is a tradition in the north of a celebrated warrior of that name, who, near the period of the Christian era, fled from his country, between the Caspian and the Black Sea, to escape the vengeance of the Romans, and marched toward the north and west of Europe, subduing all who opposed him, and finally established himself in Sweden, where he received divine honors. According to the Eddas, however, Odin was the son of Bor, and the most powerful of the gods; the father of Thor, Balder, and others; the god of war, eloquence, and poetry. He was made acquainted with everything that happened on earth, through two ravens, Hugin and Munin (mind and memory); they flew daily round the world, and returned every night to whisper in his ear all that they had seen and heard. Thor, the god of thunder, was the implacable and dreaded enemy of the giants, and the avenger and defender of the gods. His stature was so lofty that no horse could bear him, and lightning flashed from his eyes and from his chariot wheels as they rolled along. His mallet or hammer, his belt of strength and his gauntlets of iron, were of wonderful power, and with them he could overthrow the giants and monsters who were at war with the gods. Balder, the second son of Odin, was the noblest and fairest of the gods, beloved by everything in nature. He exceeded all beings in gentleness, prudence, and eloquence, and he was so fair and graceful that light emanated from him as he moved. In his palace nothing impure could exist. The death of Balder is the principal event in the mythological drama of the Scandinavians. It was foredoomed, and a prognostic of the approaching dissolution of the universe and of the gods themselves. Heimdall was the warder of the gods; his post was on the summit of Bifrost, called by mortals the rainbow—the bridge which connects heaven and earth, and down which the gods daily traveled to hold their councils under the shade of the tree Yggdrasil. The red color was the flaming fire, which served as a defense against the giants. Heimdall slept more lightly than a bird, and his ear was so exquisite that he could hear the grass grow in the meadows and the wool upon the backs of the sheep. He carried a trumpet, the sound of which echoed through all worlds. Loke was essentially of an evil nature, and descended from the giants, the enemies of the gods; but he was mysteriously associated with Odin from the infancy of creation. He instilled a spark of his fire into a man at his creation, and he was the father of three monsters, Hela or Death, the Midgard Serpent, and the wolf Fenris, the constant terror of the gods, and destined to be the means of their destruction.

Besides these deities, there were twelve goddesses, the chief of whom was Frigga, the wife of Odin, and the queen and mother of the gods. She knew the future, but never revealed it; and she understood the language of animals and plants. Freya was the goddess of love, unrivaled in grace and beauty—the Scandinavian Venus. Iduna was possessed of certain apples, of such virtue that, by eating of them, the gods became exempted from the consequences of old age, and retained, unimpaired, all the freshness of youth. The gods dwelt above, in Asgard, the garden of the Asen or the Divinities; the home of the giants, with whom they were in perpetual war, was Jotunheim, a distant, dark, chaotic land, of which Utgard was the chief seat. Midgard, or the earth, the abode of man, was represented as a disk in the midst of a vast ocean; its caverns and recesses were peopled with elves and dwarfs, and around it lay coiled the huge Midgard Serpent. Muspelheim, or Flameland, and Nifelheim or Mistland, lay without the organized universe, and were the material regions of light and darkness, the antagonism of which had produced the universe with its gods and men. Nifelheim was a dark and dreary realm, where Hela, or Death, ruled with despotic sway over those who had died ingloriously of disease or old age. Helheim, her cold and gloomy palace, was thronged with their shivering and shadowy spectres. She was livid and ghastly pale, and her very looks inspired horror.

The chief residence of Odin, in Asgard, was Valhalla, or the Hall of the Slain; it was hung round with golden spears, and shields, and coats of mail; and here he received the souls of warriors killed in battle, who were to assist him in the final conflict with the giants; and here, every day, they armed themselves for battle, and rode forth by thousands to their mimic combat on the plains of Asgard, and at night they returned to Valhalla to feast on the flesh of the boar, and to drink the intoxicating mead. Here dwelt, also, the numerous virgins called the Valkyriur, or Choosers of the Slain, whom Odin sent forth to every battle-field to sway the victory, to make choice of those who should fall in the combat, and to direct them on their way to Valhalla. They were called, also, the Sisters of War; they watched with intense interest over their favorite warriors and sometimes lent an ear to their love. In the field they were always in complete armor; led on by Skulda, the youngest of the Fates, they were foremost in battle, with helmets on their heads, armed with flaming swords, and surrounded by lightning and meteors. Sometimes they were seen riding through the air and over the sea on shadowy horses, from whose manes fell hail on the mountains and dew on the valleys; and at other times their fiery lances gleamed in the spectral lights of the aurora borealis; and again, they were represented clothed in white, with flowing hair, as cupbearers to the heroes at the feasts of Valhalla.

In the centre of the world stood the great ash tree Yggdrasil, the Tree of Life, of which the Christmas tree and the Maypole of northern nations are doubtless emblems. It spread its life-giving arms through the heavens, and struck its three roots down through the three worlds. It nourished all life, even that of Nedhog, the most venomous of serpents, which continually gnawed at the root that penetrated Nifelheim. A second root entered the region of the frost giants, where was the well in which wisdom and understanding were concealed. A third root entered the region of the gods; and there, beside it, dwelt the three Nornor or Fates, over whom even the gods had no power, and who, every day, watered it from the primeval fountain, so that its boughs remained green.

The gods were benevolent spirits—the friends of mankind, but they were not immortal. A destiny more powerful than they or their enemies, the giants, was one day to overwhelm them. At the Ragnarök, or twilight of the gods, foretold in the Edda, the monsters shall be unloosed, the heavens be rent asunder, and the sun and moon disappear; the great Midgard Serpent shall lash the waters of the ocean till they overflow the earth; the wolf Fenris, whose enormous mouth reaches from heaven to earth, shall rush upon and devour all within his reach; the genii of fire shall ride forth, clothed in flame, and lead on the giants to the storming of Asgard. Heimdall sounds his trumpet, which echoes through all worlds; the gods fly to arms; Odin appears in his golden casque, his resplendent cuirass, with his vast scimitar in his hand, and marshals his heroes in battle array. The great ash tree is shaken to its roots, heaven and earth are full of horror and affright, and gods, giants, and heroes are at length buried in one common ruin. Then comes forth the mighty one, who is above all gods, who may not be named. He pronounces his decrees, and establishes the doctrines which shall endure forever. A new earth, fairer and more verdant, springs forth from the bosom of the waves, the fields bring forth without culture, calamities are unknown, and in Heaven, the abode of the good, a palace is reared, more shining than the sun, where the just shall dwell forevermore.

Traces of the worship of these deities by our pagan ancestors still remain in the names given to four days of the week. Tuesday was consecrated to Tyr, a son of Odin; Wednesday, Odin's or Wooden's day, to Odin; Thursday, or Thor's day, to Thor; and Friday, or Freya's day, was sacred to the goddess Freya.

3. THE LANGUAGE.—The Scandinavian or Norse languages include the Icelandic, Danish, Swedish, and Norwegian dialects.

The Icelandic or Old Norse, which was the common language of Denmark, Sweden, and Norway, in the ninth century, was carried into Iceland, where, to the present time, it has wonderfully retained its early characteristics. The written alphabet was called Runic, and the letters, Runes, of which the most ancient specimens are the inscriptions on Rune stones, rings, and wooden tablets.

The Danish and Swedish, may be called the New Norse languages; they began to assume a character distinct from the Old Norse about the beginning of the twelfth century. The Danish language is not confined to Denmark, but is used in the literature, and by the cultivated society of Norway.

The Swedish is the most musical of the Scandinavian dialects, its pronunciation being remarkably soft and agreeable. Its character is more purely Norse than the Danish, which has been greatly affected by its contact with the German.

The Norwegian exists only in the form of dialects spoken by the peasantry. It is distinguished from the other two by a rich vocabulary of words peculiar to itself, and by its own pronunciation and peculiar construction; only literary cultivation is wanted to make it an independent language like the others.

4. ICELANDIC OR OLD NORSE LITERATURE.—In 868 one of the Norwegian vikings or sea rovers, being driven on the coast of Iceland, first made known the existence of the island. Harold, the fair-haired, having soon after subdued or slain the petty kings of Norway, and introduced the feudal system, many of the inhabitants, disdaining to sacrifice their independence, set forth to colonize this dreary and inhospitable region, whose wild and desolate aspect seemed to attract their imaginations. Huge mountains of ice here rose against the northern sky, from which the smoke of volcanoes rolled balefully up; and the large tracts of lava, which had descended from them to the sea, were cleft into fearful abysses, where no bottom could be found. Here were strange, desolate valleys, with beds of pure sulphur, torn and overhanging precipices, gigantic caverns, and fountains of boiling water, which, mingled with flashing fires, soared up into the air, amid the undergroans of earthquakes, and howlings and hissings as of demons in torture. Subterranean fires, in terrific contest with the wintry ocean, seemed to have made sport of rocks, mountains, and rivers, tossing them into the most fantastic and appalling shapes. Yet such was the fondness of the Scandinavian imagination for the wild and desolate, and such their hatred of oppression, that they soon peopled this chaotic island to an extent it has never since reached. In spite of the rigor of the climate, where corn refused to ripen, and where the labors of fishing and agriculture could only be pursued for four months of the year, the people became attached to this wild country. They established a republic which lasted four hundred years, and for ages it was destined to be the sanctuary and preserver of the grand old literature of the North. The people took with them their Scalds and their traditions, and for a century after the peopling of the island, they retained their Pagan belief. Ages rolled away; the religion of Odin had perished from the mainland, and the very hymns and poems in which its doctrines were recorded had perished with it, when, in the middle of the seventeenth century, the Rhythmical Edda of Samund was discovered, followed by the Prose Edda of Snorre Sturleson. These discoveries roused the zeal of the Scandinavian literati, and led to further investigations, which resulted in the discovery of a vast number of chronicles and sagas, and much has since been done by the learned men of Iceland and Denmark to bring to light the remote annals of northern Europe.

These remains fall into the three divisions of Eddaic, Scaldic, and Saga literature. Samund the Wise (1056-1131), a Christian priest of Iceland, was the first to collect and commit to writing the oral traditions of the mythology and poetry of the Scandinavians. His collection has been termed the "Edda," a word by some supposed to signify grandmother, and by others derived, with more probability, from the obsolete word oeda, to teach. The elder or poetic Edda consists of thirty-eight poems, and is divided into two parts. The first, or mythological cycle, contains everything relating to the Scandinavian ideas of the creation of the world, the origin of man, the morals taught by the priests, and stories of the gods; the second, or heroic cycle, contains the original materials of the "Nibelungen Lied" of Germany. The poems consist of strophes of six or eight lines each, with little of the alliteration by which the Scalds were afterwards distinguished. One of the oldest and most interesting is the "Voluspa," or Song of the Prophetess, a kind of sibylline lay, which contains an account of the creation, the origin of man and of evil, and concludes with a prediction of the destruction and renovation of the universe, and a description of the future abodes of happiness and misery. "Vafthrudnir's Song" is in the form of a dialogue between Odin, disguised as a mortal, and the giant Vafthrudnir, in which the same subjects are discussed. "Grimner's Song" contains a description of twelve habitations of the celestial deities, considered as symbolical of the signs of the zodiac. "Rig's Song" explains, allegorically, the origin of the three castes: the thrall, the churl, and the noble, which, at a very early period, appear to have formed the framework of Scandinavian society. "The Havamal," or the High Song of Odin, is the complete code of Scandinavian ethics. The maxims here brought together more resemble the Proverbs of Solomon than anything in human literature, but without the high religious views of the Scripture maxims. It shows a worldly wisdom, experience, and sagacity, to which modern life can add nothing. In the Havamal is included the Rune Song.

Runes, the primitive rudely-shaped letters of the Gothic race, appear never to have been used to record their literature, which was committed to the Scalds and Sagamen, but they were reserved for inscriptions on rocks or memorial stones, or they were cut in staves of wood, as a rude calendar to assist the memory. Odin was the great master of runes, but all the gods, many of the giants, kings, queens, prophetesses, and poets possessed the secret of their power. In the ballads of the Middle Ages, long after the introduction of Christianity, we find everywhere the boast of Runic knowledge and of its power. Queens and princesses cast the runic spell over their enemies; ladies, by the use of runes, inspire warriors with love; and weird women by their means perform witchcraft and sorcery. Some of their rune songs taught the art of healing; others had power to stop flying spears in battle, and to excite or extinguish hatred and love. There were runes of victory inscribed on swords; storm runes, which gave power over sails, inscribed on rudders of ships, drink runes, which gave power over others, inscribed on drinking horns; and herb runes, cut in the bark of trees which cured sickness and wounds. These awful characters, which struck terror into the hearts of our heathen ancestors, and which appalled and subdued alike kings, warriors, and peasants, were simple letters of the alphabet; but they prove to what a stupenduous extent knowledge was power in the dark ages of the earth. The poet who sings the Rune Song in the Havamal does it with every combination of mystery, calculated to inspire awe and wonder in the hearer.

The two poems, "Odin's Raven Song" and the "Song of the Way-Tamer," are among the most deeply poetical hymns of the Edda. They relate to the same great event—the death of Balder—and are full of mystery and fear. A strange trouble has fallen upon the gods, the oracles are silent, and a dark, woeful foreboding seizes on all things living. Odin mounts his steed, Sleipner, and descends to hell to consult the Vala there in her tomb, and to extort from her, by runic incantations, the fate of his son. This "Descent of Odin" is familiar to the English reader through Gray's Ode. In all mythologies we have glimpses continually of the mere humanity of the gods, we witness their limited powers and their consciousness of a coming doom. In this respect every mythology is kept in infinite subordination to the true faith, in which all is sublime, infinite, and worthy of the Deity—in which God is represented as pure spirit, whom the heaven of heavens cannot contain; and all assumption of divinity by false gods is treated as a base superstition.

The remaining songs of the first part of the Edda relate chiefly to the exploits, wanderings, and love adventures of the gods. The "Sun Song," with which it concludes, is believed to be the production of Samund, the collector of the Edda, In this he retains some of the machinery of the old creed, but introduces the Christian Deity and doctrines.

The second part of the elder Edda contains the heroic cycle of Icelandic poems, the first part of which is the Song of Voland. the renowned northern smith. The story of Voland, or Wayland, the Vulcan of the North, is of unknown antiquity; and his fame, which spread throughout Europe, still lives in the traditions of all northern nations. The poems concerning Sigurd and the Niflunga form a grand epic of the simplest construction. The versification consists of strophes of six or eight lines, without rhyme or alliteration. The sad and absorbing story here narrated was wonderfully popular throughout the ancient Scandinavian and Teutonic world, and it is impossible to say for how many centuries these great tragic ballads had agitated the hearts of the warlike races of the north. It is clear that Sigurd and Byrnhilda, with all their beauty, noble endowment, and sorrowful history, were real personages, who had taken powerful hold on the popular affections in the most ancient times, and had come down from age to age, receiving fresh incarnations and embellishments from the popular Scalds. There is a great and powerful nature living through these poems. They are pictures of men and women of godlike beauty and endowments, and full of the vigor of simple but impetuous natures. Though fragmentary, they stand in all the essentials of poetry far beyond the German Lied, and, in the tragic force of passion which they portray, they are superior to any remains of ancient poetry except that of Greece. Their greatness lies less in their language than their spirit, which is sublime and colossal. Passion, tenderness, and sorrow are here depicted with the most vivid power; and the noblest sentiments and the most heroic actions are crossed by the foulest crimes and the most terrific tragedies. They contain materials for a score of dramas of the most absorbing character.

The Prose or Younger Edda was the work of Snorre Sturleson (1178-1241), who was born of a distinguished Icelandic family, and, after leading a turbulent and ambitious life, and being twice supreme magistrate of the republic, was at last assassinated. The younger Edda repeats in prose the sublime poetry of the elder Edda, mixed with many extravagances and absurdities; and in point of literary and philosophical value it bears no comparison with it. It marks the transition from the art of the Scalds to the prose relation of the Sagaman. This work concludes with a treatise on the poetic phraseology of the Scalds, and a system of versification by Snorre.

The Bard, or Scald (literally smoothers of language, from scaldre, to polish), formed an important feature of the courts of the princes and more powerful nobles. They often acted, at the same time, as bard, councilor, and warrior. Until the twelfth century, when the monks and the art of writing put an end to the Scaldic art, this race of poets continued to issue from Iceland, and to travel from country to country, welcomed as the honored guests of kings, and receiving in return for their songs, rings and jewels of great value, but never money. There is preserved a list of two hundred and thirty scalds, who had distinguished themselves from the time of Ragnor Lodbrok to that of Vladimir II., or from the latter end of the eighth, to the beginning of the thirteenth century. Ragnor Lodbrok was a Danish king, who, in one of his predatory excursions, was taken prisoner in England and thrown into a dungeon, to be stung to death by serpents. His celebrated death song is said to have been composed during his torments. The best of the scaldic lays, however, are greatly inferior to the Eddaic poems. Alliteration is the chief characteristic of the versification.

The word Saga means literally a tale or narrative, and is used in Iceland to denote every species of tradition, whether fabulous or true. In amount, the Saga literature of ancient Scandinavia is surprisingly extensive, consisting of more than two hundred volumes. The Sagas are, for the most part, unconnected biographies or narratives of greater or less length, principally describing events which took place from the ninth to the thirteenth century. They are historical, mythic, heroic, and romantic.

The first annalist of Iceland of whom we have any remains was Ari the Wise (b. 1067), the contemporary of Samund, and his annals, for the most part, have been lost. Snorre Sturleson, already spoken of as the collector of the Prose Edda, was the author of a great original work, the "Heimskringla," or Home-Circle, so called from the first word of the manuscript, a most admirable history of a great portion of northern Europe from the period of the Christian Era to 1177, including every species of Saga composition. It traces Odin and his followers from the East, from Asaland and Asgard, its chief city, to their settlement in Scandinavia. It narrates the contests of the kings, the establishment of the kingdoms of Norway, Sweden, and Denmark, the Viking expeditions, the discovery and settlement of Iceland and Greenland, the discovery of America, and the conquests of England and Normandy. The stories are told with a life and freshness that belong only to true genius, and a picture is given of human life in all its reality, genuine, vivid, and true. Some of the Sagas of the "Heimskringla" are grand romances, full of brilliant adventures, while at the same time they lie so completely within the range of history that they may be regarded as authentic. That of Harold Haardrada narrates his expedition to the East, his brilliant exploits in Constantinople, Syria, and Sicily, his scaldic accomplishments, and his battles in England against Harold, the son of Earl Godwin, where he fell only a few days before Godwin's son himself fell at the battle of Hastings. This Saga is a splendid epic in prose, and is particularly interesting to the English race. The first part of the "Heimskringla" is necessarily derived from tradition; as it advances fable and fact all curiously intermingle, and it terminates in authentic history.

Among the most celebrated Sagas of the remaining divisions are the "Sagas of Erik the Wanderer," who went in search of the Island of Immortality; "Frithiof's Saga," made the subject of Tegnér's great poem; the Saga of Ragnor Lodbrok, of Dietrich of Bern, and the Volsunga Saga, relating to the ancestors of Sigurd or Siegfried, the hero of the Nibelungen Lied. There are, besides, Sagas of all imaginable fictions of heroes, saints, magicians, conquerors, and fair women. Almost every leading family of Iceland had its written saga. The Sagamen, like the Scalds, traveled over all Scandinavia, visited the courts and treasured up and transmitted to posterity the whole history of the North. This wonderful activity of the Scandinavian mind from the ninth to the thirteenth century, both in amount and originality, throws completely into the shade the literary achievements of the Anglo-Saxons during the same period.

When Christianity superseded the ancient religion, the spirit and traditions of the old mythology remained in the minds of the people, and became their fireside literature under the name of "Folk Sagas." Their legends and nursery tales are diffused over modern Scandinavia, and appear, with many variations, through all the literature of Europe. Among them are found the originals of "Jack the Giant Killer," "Cinderella," "Blue Beard," the "Little Old Woman Cut Shorter," "The Giant who smelt the Blood of an Englishman," and many others.

The Folk Sagas have only recently been collected, but they are the true productions of ancient Scandinavians.

The art of the Scald and Sagaman, which was extinguished with the introduction of Christianity, revived after a time in the Romances of Chivalry and the popular ballads. These ballads are classified as heroic, supernatural, historic, and ballads of love and romance; they successively describe all the changes in the life and opinions of society, and closely resemble those of England, Scotland, and Germany. They are the common expression of the life and feelings of a common race, under the prevailing influences of the same period, and the same stories often inspired the nameless bards of both countries. They are composed in the same form and possess the same curious characteristic of the refrain or chorus which distinguishes this poetry in its transition from the epic to the lyric form. They express a peculiar poetic feeling which is sought for in vain in the epic age—a sentiment which, without art and without name, wanders on until it is caught up by fresh lips, and becomes the regular interpreter of the same feelings. Thus this simple voice of song travels onward from mouth to month, from heart to heart, the language of the general sorrows, hopes, and memories; strange, and yet near to every one, centuries old, yet never growing older, since the human heart, whose history it relates in so many changing images and notes, remains forever the same.

Though the great majority of the popular ballads of Scandinavia are attributed to the twelfth, thirteenth, and fourteenth centuries, the composition of them by no means ceased then. This voice of the people continued more or less to find expression down to the close of the last century, when it became the means of leading back its admirers to truth and genuine feeling, and, more than anything else, contributed to the revival of a new era in literature.

5. DANISH LITERATURE—In taking leave of the splendid ancient literature of Scandinavia, we find before us a waste of nearly four centuries from the thirteenth, which presents scarcely a trace of intellectual cultivation. The ballads and tales, indeed, lingered in the popular memory and heart; fresh notes of genuine music were from time to time added to them, and they form the connecting link between the ancient and modern literature. Saxo Grammaticus and Theodoric the monk, in the thirteenth century, adopted the Latin language in their chronicles of Denmark and Norway, and from that time it usurped the place of the native tongue among the educated. In the sixteenth century the spirit of the Reformation began to exert an influence, and the Bible was translated into the popular tongue. New fields of thought were opened, a passion for literature was excited, and translations, chiefly from the German, were multiplied; a knowledge of the classics was cultivated, and, in time, a noble harvest of literature followed.

The first author who marks the new era is Arreboe (1587-1637), who has been called the Chaucer of Denmark. His chief work was the "Hexameron," or "The World's First Week." It abounds with learning, and displays great poetic beauty. The religious psalms and hymns of Kingo (1634-1703) are characterized by a simple yet powerfully expressed spirit of piety, and are still held in high esteem. His Morning and Evening Prayers, or, as he beautifully terms them, "Sighs," are admirable.

Many other names of note are found in the literature of this period, but the only one who achieved a world-wide celebrity, was Tycho Brahe (1546- 1601), who, for a time, was the centre of a brilliant world of science and literature. The learned and celebrated, from all countries, visited him, and he was loaded with gifts and honors, in return for the honor which he conferred upon his native land. But at length, through the machinations of his enemies, he lost the favor of the king, and was forced to exile himself forever from his country. The services rendered to astronomy by Tycho Brahe were great, although his theory of the universe, in which our own planet constituted the centre, has given way before the more profound one of Copernicus.

Holberg (1684-1754), a native of Norway, is commonly styled the creator of the modern literature of Denmark, and would take a high place in that of any country. In the field of satire and comedy he was a great and unquestionable master. All his actors are types, and are as real and existent at the present hour as they were actual when he sketched them. Besides satires and numerous comedies, Holberg was the author of various histories, several volumes of letters, and a book of fables.

The principal names which appear in Danish literature, from Holberg to Evald, are those of Stub, Sneedorf, Tullin, and Sheersen. Evald (1743- 1780) was the first who perceived the superb treasury of poetic wealth which lay in the far antiquity of Scandinavia, among the gods of the Odinic mythology, and who showed to his nation the grandeur and beauty which the national history had reserved for the true poetic souls who should dare to appropriate them. But the sound which he drew from the old heroic harp startled his contemporaries, while it did not fascinate them. The august figures which he brought before them seemed monstrous and uncouth. Neglected in life, and doomed to an early death, the history of this poet was painfully interesting; a strangely brilliant web of mingled gold and ordinary thread—a strangely blended fabric of glory and of grief. Solitary, poor, bowed down with physical and mental suffering, from his heart's wound, as out of a dark cleft in a rock, swelled the clear stream of song. The poem of "Adam and Eve," "Rolf Krage," the first original Danish tragedy, "Balder's Death," and "The Fishermen," are his principal productions. "Rolf Krage" is the outpouring of a noble heart, in which the most generous and exalted sentiments revel in all the inexperience of youth. "Balder's Death" is a masterpiece of beauty, sentiment, and eloquence of diction. It is full of the passion of an unhappy love, and thus expresses the burning emotions of the poet's own heart. The old northern gods and mythic personages are introduced, and the lyric element is blended with the dramatic. The lyrical drama of "The Fishermen" is perhaps the most perfect and powerful of all Evald's works. The intense interest it excites testifies to the power of the writer, while the music of the versification delights the ear. His lyric of "King Christian," now the national song of Denmark, is a masterly production of its kind.

During the forty years which succeeded the death of Evald, Denmark produced a great number of poets and authors of various kinds, who advanced the fame of their country; but the chief of those who closed the eighteenth century are Baggesen (1764-1826) and Rahbek (1760-1830). Though they still wrote in the nineteenth century, they belonged in spirit essentially to the eighteenth. The life of Baggesen was a genuine romance, with all its sunshine and shade. He was born in poverty and obscurity, and when a child of seven years old, on one occasion, attracted the momentary attention of the young and lovely Queen Caroline, who took him in her arms and kissed him. "Still, after half a century," he writes, "glows the memory of that kiss; to all eternity I shall never forget it. From that kiss sprang the germ of my entire succeeding fate." After a long and severe struggle with poverty, he suddenly found himself the most popular poet of the country, and for a quarter of a century he was the petted favorite of the nation. Supplanted in public favor by the rising glory of Oehlenschläger, he had the misfortune to see the poetic crown of Denmark placed on the head of his rival; and the last years of his life were embittered by disappointment and care. The works of Baggesen fill twelve volumes, and consist of comic stories, numerous letters, satires and impassioned lyrics, songs and ballads, besides dramas and operas. His "Poems to Nanna," who, in the northern mythology, is the bride of Balder, are among the most beautiful in the Danish language, and no poet could have written them until he had gone through the deep and ennobling baptism of suffering. In these, Nanna is the symbol of the pure and eternal principle of love, and Balder is the type of the human heart, perpetually yearning after it in sorrow, yet in hope. Nanna appears lost—departed into a higher and invisible world; and Balder, while forever seeking after her, bears with him an internal consciousness that there he shall overtake her, and possess her eternally. One of Baggesen's characteristics was the projection of great schemes, which were never accomplished. He was too fond of living in the present—in the charmed circle of admiring friends— to achieve works otherwise within the limit of his powers. Bat with all his faults, his works will always remain brilliant and beautiful amid the literary wealth of his country.

In the early part of the nineteenth century the new light which radiated from Germany found its way into Denmark, and in no country was the result so rapid or so brilliant. There soon arose a school of poets who created for themselves a reputation in all parts of Europe that would have done honor to any age or country. A new epoch in the language began with Oehlenschläger (1779-1856), the greatest poet of Denmark, and the representative, not only of the North, but, like Scott, Byron, Goethe, and Schiller, the outgrowth of a great era as well, and the incarnation of the broader and more natural spirit of his time. In 1819 he published the "Gods of the North," in which he combines all the legends of the Edda into one connected whole. He entered fully into the spirit of these grand old poems, and condensed and elaborated them into one. In the various regions of gods, giants, dwarfs, and men, in the striking variety of characters, the great and wise Odin, the mighty Thor, the good Balder, the malicious Loke, the queenly Frigga, the genial Freya, the lovely Iduna, the gentle Nanna—in all the magnificent scenery of Midgard, Asgard, and Nifelheim, with the glorious tree Yggdrasil and the rainbow bridge, the poet found inexhaustible scope for poetical embellishment, and he availed himself of it all with a genuine poet's power. The dramas of Oehlenschläger are his masterpieces, but they form only a small portion of his works. His prose stories and romances fill several volumes, and his smaller poems would of themselves have established almost a greater reputation than that of any Danish poet who went before him.

Grundtvig (b. 1783) is one of the most original and independent minds of the North. As a preacher he was fervid and eloquent; as a writer on the Scandinavian mythology and hero-life, he gave, perhaps, the truest idea of the spirit of the northern myths.

Blicher (1782-1868) was a stern realist, who made his native province of Jutland the scene of his poems and stories, which in many respects resemble those of Crabbe.

Ingemann (1789-1862) is a voluminous writer in every department of literature. His historical romances are the delight of the people, who, by their winter firesides, forget their snow-barricaded woods and mountains in listening to his pages.

Heiberg (1791-1860) as a critic ruled the Danish world of taste for many years, and by his writings did much to elevate dramatic art and public sentiment. The greatest authoress that Denmark has produced is the Countess Gyllenbourg (1773-1856). Her knowledge of life, sparkling wit, and faultless style, make her stories, the authorship of which was unknown before her death, masterpieces of their kind.

The greatest pastoral lyrist of this country is Winther (1796-1876). His descriptions of scenery and rural life have an extraordinary charm. Hertz (1796-1870) is the most cosmopolitan Danish writer of his time. Müller (1809-1876) is celebrated for his comedies, tragedies, lyrics, and satires, all of which prove the immense breadth of his compass and the inexhaustible riches of his imagination.

Hans Christian Andersen (1805-1875) is known to the English reader by his stories and legends for the young, his romances, and autobiography. He was born of humble peasants, and early attracted the attention of persons in power, who, with that liberality to youthful genius so characteristic of Denmark, enabled him to enter the university, and afterwards to travel over Europe. The "Improvisatore" is considered the best of his romances.

Three writers connect the age of romanticism with the present day,—Plong (b. 1812), a vigorous politician and poet; Goldschmidt (b. 1818), author of novels and poems in the purest Danish; Hastrup (b. 1818), the author of a series of comedies unrivaled in delicacy and wit.

Among the names distinguished in science are those of Malte Brun in geography; Rask, Grundtvig, Molbech, Warsaae, Rafn, Finn Magnusen and others in philology and literary antiquities. Of the two brothers Oersted, one, a lawyer and statesman, has done much to establish the principles of state economy, while the discoveries of the other entitle him to the highest rank in physical science.

6. SWEDISH LITERATURE.—The first independent literature of modern Scandinavia was, as we have seen, the popular songs and ballads which, during the Middle Ages, kept alive the germ of intellectual life. The effect of the Reformation was soon seen in the literature of Sweden, as of other countries. The first intellectual development displayed itself in the dramatic attempt of Messenius and his son, who changed and substituted actual history for legendary and scriptural subjects. The genius of Sweden, however, is essentially lyrical, rather than dramatic or epic. Stjernhjelm (1598-1672) was a writer of great merit,—the author of many dramas, lyrics, and epic and didactic poems. He so far surpassed his contemporaries that he decided the character of his country's literature for a century; but his influence was finally lost in the growing Italian and German taste. The principal names of this period are those of Lucidor, a wild, erratic genius; Mrs. Brenner, the first female writer of Sweden, whose numerous poems are distinguished for their neat and easy style; and Spegel (d. 1711), whose Psalms, full of the simplest beauty, give him a lasting place in the literature of the country. The literary taste of Sweden, in the seventeenth century, made great progress; native genius awoke to conscious power, and the finest productions of Europe were quoted and commented on.

During the eighteenth century, French taste prevailed all over Europe; not only the manners, etiquette, and toilets of France were imitated, the fashion of its literature was also adopted. Corneille, Racine, Molière, and Boileau stamped their peculiar philosophy of literature on the greater portion of the civilized world. Imagination was frozen by these cold, glittering models; life and originality became extinct, imitator followed upon imitator, until there was a universal dearth of soul; and men gravely asserted that everything had been said and done in poetry and literature that could be said and done. What a glorious reply has since been given to this utterance of inanity and formalism, in a countless host of great and original names, all the world knows. But in no country was this Gallomania more strongly and enduringly prevalent than in Sweden. The principal writers of the early part of the Gallic period are Dalin, Nordenflycht, Creutz, and Gyllenborg. As a prose writer, rather than a poet, Dalin deserves remembrance. He established a periodical in imitation of the "Spectator," and through this conferred the same benefits on Swedish literature that Addison conferred on that of England,—a great improvement in style, and the origination of a national periodical literature. Charlotte Nordenflycht (b. 1718) is called the Swedish Sappho. Her poetry is all love and sorrow, as her life was; in a better age she would have been a better poetess, for she possessed great feeling, passion, and imagination. She exerted a wide influence on the literary life of her time, in the capital, where the coteries which sprung up about her embraced all the poets of the day. Gyllenborg and Creutz were deficient in lyric depth, and were neither of them poets of the first order.

Of the midday of the Gallic era, the king, Gustavus III. (1771-1792), Kellgren, Leopold, and Oxenstjerna are the chiefs. Gustavus was a master of rhetoric, and in all his poetical tendencies fast bound to the French system. He was, however, the true friend of literature, and did whatever lay in his power to promote it, and to honor and reward literary men. In 1786 he established the Swedish Academy, which for a long time continued to direct the public taste. As an orator, Gustavus has rarely found a rival in the annals of Sweden, and his dramas in prose possess much merit, and are still read with interest.

Kellgren (1751-1795) was the principal lyric poet of this period. His works betray a tendency to escape from the bondage of his age, and open a new spring-time in Swedish poetry. For his own fame, and that of his age, his early death was a serious loss. Leopold (1756-1829) continued to sway the literary sceptre, after the death of Kellgren, for the remainder of the century. He is best known by his dramas and miscellaneous poems. His plays have the faults that belong to his school, but many of his poems abound with striking thoughts, and are elastic and graceful in style. The great writer of this period, however, was Oxenstjerna (1750-1818), a descriptive poet, who, with all the faults of his age and school, displays a deep feeling for nature. His pictures of simple life, amid the fields and woods of Sweden, are full of idyllic beauty and attractive grace.

As the French taste overspread Europe at very nearly the same time, so its influence decayed and died out almost simultaneously. In France itself, long before the close of the eighteenth century, elements were at work destined to produce the most extraordinary changes in the political, social, and literary condition of the world. Even those authors who were most French were most concerned in preparing this astounding revolution. In many countries it was not the French doctrines, but the French events, that startled, dazzled, and excited the human heart and imagination, and produced the greatest effects on literature. Those who sympathized least with French views were often most influenced by the magnificence of the scenes which swept over the face of the civilized world, and antagonism was not less potent than sympathy to arouse the energies of mind. But even before these movements had produced any marked effect, Gallic influence began to give way, and genius began freely to range the earth and choose its materials wherever God and man were to be found.

The heralds of the new era in Sweden were Bellman, Hallman, Kexel, Wallenberg, Lidner, Thorild, and Lengren. Bellman (1740-1795) is regarded by the Swedes with great enthusiasm. There is something so perfectly national in his spirit that he finds an echo of infinite delight in all Swedish hearts. Everything patriotic, connected with home life and feelings, home memories, the loves and pleasures of the past, all seem to be associated with the songs of Bellman. Hallman, his friend, wrote comedies and farces. His characters are drawn from the bacchanalian class described in Bellman's lyrics, but they are not sufficiently varied in their scope and sphere to create an actual Swedish drama. Kexel, the friend of the two last named, lived a gay and vagabond life, and is celebrated for his comedies. Wallenberg was a clergyman, full of the enjoyment of life, and disposed to see the most amusing side of everything. Lidner and Thorild, unlike the writers just named, were grave, passionate, and sorrowful. Lidner was a nerve-sick, over-excited genius; but many of his inspired thoughts struck deep into the heart of the time, and Swedish literature is highly indebted to Thorild for the spirit of manly freedom and the principles of sound reasoning and taste which he introduced into it.

One of the most interesting names of the transition period is that of Anna Maria Lengren (1754-1811). She has depicted the scenes of domestic and social life with a skill and firmness, yet a delicacy of touch that is perhaps more difficult of attainment than the broad lines of a much more ambitious style. Her scenes and personages are all types, and her heroes and heroines continually present themselves in Swedish life in perpetual and amusing reproduction. These poems will secure her a place among the classical writers of her country.

The political revolution of 1809 secured the freedom of the press, new men arose for the new times, and a deadly war was waged between the old school and the new, until the latter triumphed. The first distinguished names of the new school are those of Franzén and Wallin. Franzén (1772-1847), a bishop, was celebrated for his lyrics of social life, and in many points resembles Wordsworth. The qualities of heart, the home affections, and the gladsome and felicitous appreciation of the beauty of life and nature found in his poems, give him his great charm. Archbishop Wallin (1779- 1839) is the great religious poet of Sweden. In his hymns there is a strength and majesty, a solemn splendor and harmony of intonation, that have no parallel in the Swedish language.

Among other writers of the time are Atterbom, Hammarsköld, and Palmblad. The works of Atterbom (b. 1790) indicate great lyrical talent, but they have an airy unreality, which disappoints the healthy appetite of modern readers. Hammarsköld (1785-1827) was an able critic and literary historian, though his poems are of little value. Palmblad, besides being a critic, is the author of several novels and translations from the Greek. These three writers belonged to the Phosphoric School, so called from a periodical called "The Phosphorus," which advocated their opinions.

The most distinguished school in Swedish literature is the Gothic, which took its rise in 1811, and which, aiming at a national spirit and character, embraced in that nationality all the Gothic race as one original family, possessing the same ancestry, original religion, traditions, and even still the same spirit, predilections, and language, although broken into several dialects. This new school had truth, nature, and the spirit of the nation and the times with it, and it speedily triumphed. First in the rank of its originators may be placed Geijer (1783-1847), who was at once a poet, musician, and historian; his poems are among the most precious treasures of Swedish literature. In his "Chronicles of Sweden" he penetrates far into the mists and darkness of antiquity, and brings thence magnificent traces of men and ages that point still onward to the times and haunts of the world's youth. The work presents all that belongs to the North, its gods, its mythic doctrines, its grand traditions, its heroes, vikings, runes, and poets, carrying whole ages of history in their trains. In his hands the dry bones of history and chronology live like the actual flesh and blood of the present time. As Geijer is the first historian of Sweden, so is Tegnér (1782-1848) the first poet; and in his "Frithiof's Saga" he has made the nearest approach to a successful epic writer. Although this poem has rather the character of a series of lyrical poems woven into an epic cycle, it is still a complete and great poem. It is characterized by tender, sensitive, and delicate feeling rather than by deep and overwhelming passion. In the story he has, for the most part, adhered to the ancient Saga. Tegner is as yet only the most popular poet of Sweden; but the bold advance which he has made beyond the established models of the country shows what Swedish poets may yet accomplish by following on in the track of a higher and freer enterprise. The other most prominent poets of the new school are Stagnelius (1793-1828), who bears a strong resemblance to Shelley in his tendency to the mythic and speculative, and in his wonderful power of language and affluence of inspired phrase; Almquist (d. 1866), an able and varied writer, who has written with great wit, brilliancy, and power in almost every department; Vitalis (d. 1828), the author of some religious poetry; Dahlgren, an amusing author, and Fahlcrantz, who wrote "Noah's Ark," a celebrated humorous poem. Runeberg, one of the truest and greatest poets of the North, is a Finn by birth, though he writes in Swedish; with all the wild melancholy character of his country he mingles a deep feeling of its sufferings and its wrongs. His verse is solemn and strong, like the spirit of its subject. He brings before you the wild wastes and the dark woods of his native land, and its brave, simple, enduring people. You feel the wind blow fresh from the vast, dark woodlands; you follow the elk- hunters through the pine forests or along the shores of remote lakes; you lie in desert huts and hear the narratives of the struggles of the inhabitants with the ungenial elements, or their contentions with more ungenial men. Runeberg seizes on life wherever it presents itself in strong and touching forms,—in the beggar, the gypsy, or the malefactor,— it is enough for him that it is human nature, doing and suffering, and in these respects he stands preeminently above all the poets of Sweden.

Besides the poets already spoken of, there are many others who cannot here be even named.

If the literature of Sweden is almost wholly modern, its romance literature is especially so. Cederborg was not unlike Dickens in his peculiar walk and character, and in all his burlesque there is something kind, amiable, and excellent. He was followed by many others, who displayed much talent, correct sketching of costumes and manners, and touches of true descriptive nature.

But an authoress now appeared who was to create a new era in Swedish novel-writing, and to connect the literary name and interests of Sweden more intimately with the whole civilized world. In 1828, Fredrika Bremer (1802-1865) published her first works, which were soon followed by others, all of which attracted immediate attention. Later they were made known to the English and American public through the admirable translations of Mrs. Howitt, and now they are as familiar as "Robinson Crusoe," or the "Vicar of Wakefield," wherever the English language is spoken. Wherever these works have been known they have awakened a more genial judgment of life, a better view of the world and its destinies, a deeper trust in Providence, and a persuasion that to enjoy existence truly ourselves is to spread that enjoyment around us to our fellow-men, and especially by the daily evidences of good-will, affection, cheerfulness, and graceful attention to the feelings of others, which, in the social and domestic circle, are so small in their appearance, but immense in their consequences. As a teacher of this quiet, smiling, but deeply penetrating philosophy of life, no writer has yet arisen superior to Fredrika Bremer, while she has all the time not even professed to teach, but only to entertain.

The success of Miss Bremer's writings produced two contemporaneous female novelists of no ordinary merit—the Baroness Knorring (d. 1833) and Emily Carlon (b. 1833). The works of the former are distinguished by a brilliant wit and an extraordinary power of painting life and passion, while a kind and amiable feeling pervades those of the latter. Among the later novelists of Sweden are many names distinguished in other departments of literature.

In conclusion, there are in Sweden hosts of able authors in whose hands all sciences, history, philology, antiquities, theology, every branch of natural and moral philosophy and miscellaneous literature have been elaborated with a talent and industry of which any nation might be proud. Among the names of a world-wide fame are those, of Swedenborg (1688-1772), not more remarkable for his peculiar religious ideas than for his profound and varied acquirements in science; Linnaeus (1707-1778), the founder of the established system of botany; and Scheele (1742-1786), eminent in chemistry.

If the literature of Scandinavia continues to develop during the present century with the strength and rapidity it has manifested during the last, it will present to the mind of the English race rich sources of enjoyment of a more congenial spirit than that of any other part of the European continent; and the more this literature Is cultivated the more it will be perceived that we are less an Anglo-Saxon than a Scandinavian race.

The last few years in Sweden have been a period of political rather than literary activity, yielding comparatively few works of high aesthetic value, Rydborg, a statesman and metaphysician, has produced a powerful work of fiction, "The Last Athenian," and other works of minor importance have been produced in various departments of literature.

LITERATURE OF NORWAY.—Norway cannot be said to have had a literature distinct from the Danish until after its union with Sweden in 1814. The period from that time to the present has been one of great literary activity in all departments, and many distinguished names might be mentioned, among them that of Björnson (b. 1832), whose tales have been extensively translated. Jonas Lie who enjoys a wide popularity, Camilla Collett, and Magdalene Thoresen are also favorite writers. Wergeland and Welhaven were two distinguished poets of the first half of the century. Kielland is an able novelist of the realistic school, and Professor Boyesen is well known in the United States for his tales and poems in English. Henrick Ibsen is the most distinguished dramatic writer of Norway and belongs to the realistic school. Among other writers of the present time are Börjesson whose "Eric XIV." is a masterpiece of Swedish drama; Tekla Knös, a poetess whose claims have been sanctioned by the Academy; and Claude Gérard (nom de plume), very popular as a novelist. Charles XV. and Oscar II. are poets of merit.

GERMAN LITERATURE.

INTRODUCTION.—1. German Literature and its Divisions.—2. The Mythology. —3. The Language.

PERIOD FIRST.—1. Early Literature; Translation of the Bible by Ulphilas; the Hildebrand Lied.—2. The Age of Charlemagne; his Successors; the Ludwig's Lied; Roswitha; the Lombard Cycle.—3. The Suabian Age; the Crusades; the Minnesingers; the Romances of Chivalry; the Heldenbuch; the Nibelungen Lied.—4. The Fourteenth and Fifteenth Centuries; the Mastersingers; Satires and Fables; Mysteries and Dramatic Representations; the Mystics; the Universities; the Invention of Printing.

PERIOD SECOND.—From 1517 to 1700.—1. The Lutheran Period: Luther,
Melanchthon.—2. Manuel, Zwingle, Fischart, Franck, Arnd, Boehm.—3.
Poetry, Satire, and Demonology; Paracelsus and Agrippa; the Thirty Years'
War.—4. The Seventeenth Century: Opitz, Leibnitz, Puffendorf, Kepler,
Wolf, Thomasius, Gerhard; Silesian Schools; Hoffmannswaldau, Lohenstein.

PERIOD THIRD.—1. The Swiss and Saxon Schools: Gottsched, Bodmer, Rabener,
Gellert, Kästner, and others.—2. Klopstock, Lessing, Wieland, and Herder.
—3. Goethe and Schiller.—4. The Göttingen School: Voss, Stolberg,
Claudius, Bürger, and others.—5. The Romantic School: the Schlegels,
Novalis; Tieck, Körner, Arndt, Uhland, Heine, and others.—6. The Drama:
Goethe and Schiller; the Power Men; Müllner, Werner, Howald, and
Grillparzer.—7. Philosophy: Kant, Fichte, Schelling, Hegel, Schopenhauer,
and Hartmann; Science: Liebig, Du Bois-Raymond, Virchow, Helmholst,
Haeckel.—8. Miscellaneous Writings.

INTRODUCTION.

1. GERMAN LITERATURE AND ITS DIVISIONS.—Central Europe, from the Adriatic to the Baltic, is occupied by a people who, however politically divided as respects language and race, form but one nation. The name Germans is that given to them by the Romans; the appellation which they apply to themselves is Deutsch, a term derived from Teutones, by which they were generally known, as also by the term Goths, in the early history of Europe.

In glancing at the various phases of German literature, we see the bards at first uttering in primitive strains their war songs and traditions. The introduction of Christianity brought with it the cultivation of the classic languages, although the people had no part in this learned literature, which was confined to the monasteries and schools. In the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, letters, so long monopolized by the clergy, passed from their hands to those of the princes and nobles; and in the next century the songs of the minnesingers gave way to the pedantic craft of the mastersingers.

A great intellectual regeneration followed the Reformation, but it was of brief duration. With the death of Luther and Melanchthon the lofty spirit of reform degenerated into scholasticism, and the scholars were as exclusive in their dispensation of intellectual light as the clergy had been at an earlier period. While the priests, the minstrels, and the bookmen had each enlarged the avenues to knowledge, they were still closed and locked to the masses of the people; and so they remained, until philosophy arose to break down all barriers and to throw open to humanity at large the whole domain of knowledge and literature.

In the midst of the convulsions which marked the close of the eighteenth century, the leading minds of Germany sought a solution of the great problems of civilization in the abysses of philosophy. Kant and his compeers gave an electric impulse to the German mind, the effects of which were manifest in the men who soon arose to apply the new discoveries of philosophy to literature. In Lessing, Herder, Goethe, and Schiller, the clergy, the minstrels, and the bookmen were each represented, but philosophy had breathed into them an all-embracing, cosmical spirit of humanity, and under their influence German literature soon lost its exclusive and sectional character, and became cosmopolitan and universal.

The long cycle of literary experiments, however, is not yet completed. Since the philosophers have accomplished their mission by establishing principles, and the poets have made themselves intelligible to the masses, the German mind has entered upon the exploration of all spheres of learning, and is making new and great advances in the solution of the problems of humanity. The most eminent scholars, no longer pursuing their studies as a matter of art or taste, are inspired by the noble desire of diffusing knowledge and benefiting their fellow-beings; and to grapple with the laws of nature, and to secure those conditions best adapted to the highest human welfare, are their leading aims. The German explorers of the universe have created a new school of natural philosophers; German historians are sifting the records of the past and bringing forth great political, social, and scientific revelations. In geography, ethnology, philology, and in all branches of science, men of powerful minds are at work, carrying the same enthusiasm into the world of fact that the poets have shown in the fairy-land of the imagination. To these earnest questioners, these untiring explorers, nature is reluctantly unveiling her mysteries, and history is giving up the buried secrets of the ages. The lyre of the bard may be silent for a time, but this mighty struggle with the forces of nature and with the obscurities of the past will at last inspire a new race of poets and open a new vein of poetry, far more rich than the world of fancy has ever afforded. Science, regarded from this lofty point of view, will gradually assume epic proportions, and other and more powerful Schillers and Goethes will arise to illustrate its achievements.

The history of German literature may be divided into three periods.

The first, extending from the earliest times to the beginning of the
Reformation, 1517, embraces the early literature; that of the reign of
Charlemagne and his successors; that of the Suabian age (1138-1272), and
of the first centuries of the reign of the House of Hapsburg.

The second period, extending from 1517 to 1700, includes the literature of the age of the Reformation, and of the Thirty Years' War.

The third period, from 1700 to the present time, contains the development of German literature in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.

2. THE MYTHOLOGY.—The German mythology is almost identical with the Scandinavian, and in it, as in all the legends of the North, women play an important part. Indeed, they occupied a far higher position among these ancient barbarians than in the polished nations of Greece and Rome. "It is believed," says Tacitus, "that there is something holy and prophetic about them, and therefore the warriors neither despise their counsels nor disregard their responses."

The Paganism of the North, less graceful and beautiful than that of Greece, had still the same tendency to people earth, air, and water with beings of its own creation. The rivers had their Undines, the ocean its Nixes, the caverns their Gnomes, and the woods their Sprites. Christianity did not deny the existence of these supernatural races, but it invested them with a demoniac character. They were not regarded as immortal, although permitted to attain an age far beyond that granted to mankind, and they were denied the hope of salvation, unless purchased by a union with creatures of an earthly mould.

According to the Edda, the Dwarfs were formed by Odin from the dust. They were either Cobolds—house spirits who attach themselves to the fortunes of the family, and, if well fed and treated, nestle beside the domestic hearth—or Gnomes, who haunt deserted mansions and deep caverns. The mountain echoes are the mingled sounds of their voices as they mock the cries of the wanderer, and the fissures of the rocks are the entrances to their subterranean abodes. Here they have heaped up countless treasures of gold, silver, and precious stones, and here they pass their time in fabricating costly armor. The German Elves, like those of other climes, have an irresistible propensity to dance and song, especially the Nixes, who, rising from their river or ocean home, will seat themselves on the shore and pour forth such sweet music as to enchant all who hear them, and are ever ready to impart their wondrous skill for the hope or promise of salvation. To secure this, they also lure young maidens to their watery domains, and force or persuade them to become their brides. If they submit, they are allowed to sit on the rocks and wreathe their tresses with corals, sea-weeds, and shells; but if they manifest any desire to return to their homes, a streak of blood on the surface of the waters tells the dark story of their doom.

The Walkyres are the youthful maidens who have died upon their bridal eve, and who, unable to rest in their graves, return to earth and dance in the silver rays of the moon; but if a mortal chances to meet them, they surround and draw him within their magic ring, till, faint and exhausted, he falls lifeless to the earth. Not less dangerous are the river-maids, who, rising to the surface of the stream, lure the unwary traveler into the depths below. There are also the White Women, who often appear at dawn or evening, with their pale faces and shadowy forms; these are the goddesses of ancient Paganism, condemned to wander through ages to expiate the guilt of having received divine worship, and to suffer eternal punishment if not redeemed by mortal aid. Among the goddesses who, in the form of White Women, were long believed to exercise an influence for good or ill on human affairs, Hertha and Frigga play the most conspicuous parts, and figure in many wild legends; proving how strong was the hold which the creed of their ancestors had on the minds of the Germans long after its idols had been broken and its shrines destroyed. Hertha still cherished the same beneficent disposition ascribed to her in the old mythology, and continued to watch over and aid mankind until driven away by the calumnies of which she was the victim, while Frigga appears as a fearful ogress and sorceress.

These popular superstitions, which retained their power over the minds of the people during the Middle Ages, and which even now are not wholly eradicated, have furnished a rich mine from which the poets and tale- writers of Germany have derived that element of the supernatural by which they are so often characterized.

3. THE LANGUAGE.—The Teutonic languages, which belong to the Indo- European stock, consist of two branches; the Northern or Scandinavian, and the Southern or German of the continent. The latter has three subdivisions; the Eastern or Gothic, with its kindred idioms, the high German or German proper,—the literary idiom of Germany,—and the low German, which includes the Frisian, old Saxon, Anglo-Saxon, Dutch, and Flemish. The high German, or German proper, comprehends the language of three periods: the old high German, which prevailed from the seventh to the eleventh century; the middle high German, from the eleventh century to the time of the Reformation; and the new high German, which dates from the time of Luther, and is the present literary language of the country.

No modern language equals the German in its productiveness and its capacity of constant and homogeneous growth, in its aesthetical and philosophical character, and in its originality and independence. Instead of borrowing from the Greek, Latin, and other languages, to find expressions for new combinations of ideas, it develops its own resources by manifold compositions of its own roots, words, and particles. To express one idea in its various modifications, the English requires Teutonic, Greek, and Latin elements, while the German tongue unfolds all the varieties of the same idea by a series of compositive words founded upon one Gothic root. The German language, therefore, while it is far superior in originality, flexibility, richness, and universality, does not admit the varieties which distinguish the English.

PERIOD FIRST

FROM THE EARLIEST TIMES TO THE REFORMATION (360-1517).

1. EARLY LITERATURE.—Previous to the introduction of Christianity the Germans had nothing worthy of the name of literature. The first monument that has come down to us is the translation of the Bible into Moeso- Gothic, by Ulphilas, bishop of the Goths (360-388), who thus anticipated the work of Luther by a thousand years.

As the art of writing was unknown to the Goths, Ulphilas formed an alphabet by combining Runic, Greek, and Roman, letters, and down to the ninth century this version was held in high esteem and seems to have been in general use. For nearly four hundred years after Ulphilas, no trace of literature is discovered among the Teutonic tribes. They, however, had their war-songs, and minstrel skill seems to have been highly prized by them. These lays were collected by Charlemagne, and are described by Eginhardt as "ancient barbarous poems, celebrating the deeds and wars of the men of old;" but they have nearly all disappeared, owing, probably, to the refusal of the monks, then the only scribes, to transmit to paper aught which tended to recall the rites and myths of Paganism. Only two relics of this age, in their primitive form, remain; they are rhymeless, but alliterated,—a kind of versification common to the German, Anglo- Saxon, and Scandinavian poetry, and which, early in the ninth century, gave place to rhyme. Of these two poems, the Hildebrand Lied Is probably a fragment of the traditions which had circulated orally for centuries, and which, with many modifications, were transcribed by the Scandinavians in their sagas, and by Charlemagne in his collection. None of the other poems which have come down to us from this period bear an earlier date than the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, when they were remodeled and appeared in the form of the Heldenbuch and Nibelungen Lied. The Hildebrand Lied belongs to the cycle of Theodoric the Great, or Dietrich of Bern or Verona, as he is called in poetry, from that town being the seat of his government after he had subdued the Empire of the West. This poem, though rude and wild, is not without grandeur and dramatic effect.

2. CHARLEMAGNE AND HIS SUCCESSORS.—The era of Charlemagne, in all respects so memorable, could not be without influence on the literature of Germany, then in a condition of almost primitive rudeness. The German, language was taught by his command in the schools and academies which he established in all parts of the empire; he caused the monks to preach in the vernacular tongue, and he himself composed the elements of a grammar for the use of his subjects. He recompensed with imperial munificence the learned men who resorted to his court; Alcuin, Theodophilus, Paul Winifred, and Eginhardt were honored with his peculiar confidence. Under his influence the monasteries became literary as well as ecclesiastical seminaries, which produced such men as Otfried (fl. 840), the author of the rhymed Gospel-book, and Notker Teutonicus, the translator of the Psalms.

After the death of Charlemagne the intellectual prospects of Germany darkened. The empire was threatened by the Normans from the west, and the Hungarians from the east, and there were few places where the peaceful pursuits of the monasteries and schools could be carried on without interruption.

The most important relic of the last part of the ninth century is the "Ludwig's Lied," a hymn celebrating the victory of Louis over the Normans, composed by a monk with whom that monarch was on terms of great intimacy. The style is coarse and energetic, and blends the triumphant emotions of the warrior with the pious devotion of the recluse. Towards the close of the tenth century, Roswitha, a nun, composed several dramas in Latin, characterized by true Christian feeling and feminine tenderness.

The eleventh century presents almost an entire blank in the history of German literature. The country was invaded by the Hungarian and Slavonic armies from abroad, or was the scene of contest between the emperors and their vassals at home, and in the struggle between Henry IV. and Pope Gregory VII., the clergy, who had hitherto been the chief supporters of their literature, became estranged from the German people.

A series of lays or poems, however, known as the Lombard Cycle, belongs to this age, among which are "Duke Ernest," "Count Rudolph," and others, which combine the wild legends of Paganism with the more courtly style of the next period.

3. THE SUABIAN AGE.—A splendid epoch of belles-lettres dates from the year 1138, when Conrad III., of the Hohenstauffen dynasty, ascended the throne of the German Empire. The Crusades, which followed, filled Germany with religious and martial excitement, and chivalry was soon in the height of its splendor. The grand specimens of Gothic architecture produced during this period, the cathedrals of Ulm, Strasbourg, and Cologne, in which ponderous piles of matter were reduced to forms of beauty, speak of the great ideas and the great powers called into exercise to fulfill them. The commercial wealth of Germany was rapidly developed; thousands of serfs became freemen; large cities arose, mines were discovered, and a taste for luxury began to prevail.

In 1149, when the emperor undertook a crusade in concert with Louis VII. of France, the nobility of Germany were brought into habitual acquaintance with the nobility of France, who at that time cultivated Provençal poetry, and the result was quickly apparent in German literature. The poets began to take their inspiration from real life, and though far from being imitators, they borrowed their models from the romantic cycles of Brittany and Provence.

The emperors of the Suabian or Hohenstauffen dynasty formed a new rallying-point for the national sympathies, and their courts and the castles of their vassals proved a more genial home for the Muses than the monasteries of Fulda and St. Gall. In the Crusades, the various divisions of the German race, separated after their inroad into the seats of Roman civilization, again met; no longer with the impetuosity of Franks and Goths, but with the polished reserve of a Godfrey of Bouillon and the chivalrous bearing of a Frederic Barbarossa. The German emperors and nobles opened their courts and received their guests with brilliant hospitality; the splendor of their tournaments and festivals attracted crowds from great distances, and foremost among them poets and singers; thus French and German poetry were brought face to face. While the Hohenstauffen dynasty remained on the imperial throne (1138-1272) the Suabian dialect prevailed, the literature of chivalry was patronized at the court, and the Suabian minstrels were everywhere heard. These poets, who sang their love-songs, or minne songs (so called from an old German word signifying love), have received the name of Minnesingers. During a century and a half, from 1150 to 1300, emperors, princes, barons, priests, and minstrels vied with each other in translating and producing lays of love, satiric fables, sacred legends, fabliaux, and metrical romances. Some of the bards were poor, and recited their songs from court to court; but many of them sang merely for pleasure when their swords were unemployed. This poetry was essentially chivalric; ideal love for a chosen lady, the laments of disappointed affection, or the charms of spring, formed the constant subjects of their verse. They generally sang their own compositions, and accompanied themselves on the harp; yet some even among the titled minstrels could neither read nor write, and it is related of of one that he was forced to keep a letter from his lady-love in his bosom for ten days until he could find some one to decipher it.

Among the names of nearly two hundred Minnesingers that have come down to us, the most celebrated are Wolfram of Eschenbach (fl. 1210), Henry of Ofterdingen (fl. 1250), and Walter of the Vogel Weide (1170-1227).

The numerous romances of chivalry which were translated into German rhyme during the Suabian period have been divided into classes, or cycles. The first and earliest cycle relates to Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table; the are of Anglo-Norman origin, and were probably derived from Welsh chronicles extant in Britain and Brittany before the poets on either side of the Channel began to rhyme in the Langue d'oui. Of all the Round Table traditions, none became so popular in Germany as that of the "San Graal," or "Sang Réal" (the real blood). By this was understood a cup or charger, supposed to have served the Last Supper, and to have been employed in receiving the precious blood of Christ from the side-wound given on the cross. This relic is stated to have been brought by Joseph of Arimathea into northern Europe, and to have been intrusted by him to the custody of Sir Parsifal. Wolfram of Eschenbach, in his "Parsifal," relates the adventures of the hero who passed may years of pilgrimage in search of the sanctuary of the Graal. The second cycle of romance, respecting Charlemagne and his twelve peers, was mostly translated from the literature of France. The third cycle relates to the heroes of classical antiquity, and exhibits them in the costume of chivalry. Among them are the stories of Alexander the Great, and "Aeneid," and the "Trojan War."

But the age of German chivalry and chivalric poetry soon passed away. Toward the end of the thirteenth century the Crusades languished, and the contest between the imperial and papal powers raged fiercely; with the death of Frederic I. the star of the Suabian dynasty set, and the sweet sounds of the Suabian lyre died away with the last breath of Conradin on the scaffold at Naples, in 1268.

During this period there was a wide difference between the minstrelsy patronized by the nobility and the old ballads preserved by the popular memory. These, however, were seized upon by certain poets of the time, probably Henry of Ofterdingen, Wolfram of Eschenbach, and others, and reduced to the epic form, in which they have come down to us under the titles of the Heldenbuch and the Nibelungen Lied. They contain many singular traits of a warlike age, and we have proof of their great antiquity in the morals and manners which they describe.

The Heldenbuch, or Book of Heroes, which, in its present form, belongs to the close of the twelfth century, is a collection of poems, containing traditions of events which happened in the time of Attila, and the irruptions of the German nations into the Roman Empire. The principal personages who figure in these tales of love and war are Etzel or Attila, Dietrich or Theodoric the Great, Siegfried, the Achilles of the North, Gudrune, Hagan, and others, who reappear in the Nibelungen Lied, and who have been already alluded to in the heroic legends of the Scandinavian Edda. The Nibelungen Lied (from Nibelungen, the name of an ancient powerful Burgundian race, and Lied, a lay or song) occupies an important place in German literature, and in grandeur of design and beauty of execution it far surpasses any other poetical production of this period. The "Horny Siegfried," one of the poems of the Heldenbuch, serves as a sort of prelude to the Nibelungen. In that, Siegfried appears as the personification of manly beauty, virtue, and prowess; invulnerable, from having bathed in the blood of some dragons which he had slain, save in one spot between his shoulders, upon which a leaf happened to fall. Having rescued the beautiful Chriemhild from, the power of a giant or dragon, and possessed himself of the treasures of the dwarfs, he restores her to her father, the King of the ancient city of Worms, where he is received with regal honors, and his marriage with Chriemhild celebrated with unparalleled splendor.

In the Nibelungen, Chriemhild is represented as the sister of Günther the King of Burgundy; the gallant Siegfried having heard of her surpassing beauty, resolves to woo her for his bride, but all his splendid achievements fail to secure her favors. In the mean time tidings reach the court of the fame of the beautiful Brunhild, queen of Isenland, of her matchless courage and strength; every suitor for her hand being forced to abide three combats with her, and if vanquished to suffer a cruel death. Günther resolves to try his fortune, and to win her or perish, and Siegfried accompanies him on condition that the hand of Chriemhild shall be his reward if they succeed.

At the court of Brunhild, Siegfried presents himself as the vassal of Günther, to increase her sense of his friend's power, and this falsehood is one cause of the subsequent calamities. In the combats, Siegfried, becoming invisible by means of a magic cap he had obtained from the dwarfs, seizes the arm of Günther and enables him to overcome the martial maid in every feat of arms: and the vanquished Brunhild bids her vassals do homage to him as their lord. A double union is now celebrated with the utmost pomp and rejoicing. The proud Brunhild, however, is indignant at her sister-in-law wedding a vassal. In vain Günther assures her that Siegfried is a mighty prince in his own country; the offended queen determines to punish his deception, and ties him hand and foot with her magic girdle, and hangs him upon a nail; Siegfried pitying the condition of the king, promises his aid in depriving the haughty queen of the girdle, the source of all her magic strength. He successfully accomplishes the feat, and in a luckless hour presents the trophy to Chriemhild, and confides the tale to her ear. A dispute having afterwards arisen between the two queens, Chriemhild, carried away by pride and passion, produces the fatal girdle, a token which, if found in the possession of any save the husband, was regarded as an almost irrefutable proof of guilt among the nations of the North. At this Brunhild vows revenge, and is aided by the fierce Hagan, Günther's most devoted follower, who, having induced Chriemhild to confide to him the secret of the spot where Siegfried is mortal, seizes the first occasion to plunge a lance between his shoulders, and afterwards bears the body to the chamber door of Chriemhild, who is overwhelmed with grief and burning with resentment. To secure her revenge she at length marries Etzel, or Attila, king of the Huns, who invites the Burgundians to his court, and at a grand festival Chriemhild involves them in a bloody battle, in which thousands are slain on both sides. Günther and Hagan are taken prisoners by Dietrich of Berne, and put to death by Chriemhild, who in turn suffers death at the hands of one of the followers of Dietrich.

Such is an imperfect outline of this ancient poem, which, despite all its horrors and improbabilities, has many passages of touching beauty, and wonderful power. Siegfried, the hero, is one of the most charming characters of romance or poetry. Chriemhild, at first all that the poet could fancy of loveliness, becomes at last an avenging fury. Brunhild is proud, haughty, stern, and vindictive, though not incapable of softer emotions.

In the Scandinavian legend we find the same personages in grander outlines and more gigantic proportions. The mythological portion of the story occupies the most prominent place, and Brunhild is there represented as a Valkyriur.

The time in which the scene of this historical tragedy is laid is about 430 A.D. From the thirteenth to the sixteenth century it was widely read, and highly appreciated. But in the succeeding age it was almost entirely forgotten. It was brought again to light in the beginning of the present century, and since that time, it has been the subject of many learned commentaries and researches.

4. THE FOURTEENTH AND FIFTEENTH CENTURIES.—The period from the accession of the House of Hapsburg to the beginning of the Reformation was crowded with events of great social importance, but its literature was remarkably poor. The palmy days of the minstrels and romancists had passed away. Rudolph was an economical prince, who mended his own doublet to spare money, and as he had no taste for minstrelsy, the composers of songs who went to his court found no rewards there. The rank and influence of the metropolis were transferred from Frankfort to Vienna, and the communication with the southern and southwestern parts of Europe was greatly impeded. The Germans were occupied in crusades against the Huns; the court language was changed from west Gothic to an east Gothic dialect, which was less national, and much of the southern culture and the European sympathies which had characterized the reign of the Suabian emperors disappeared.

Some inferior princes, however, encouraged versification, but the prizes were so reduced in value that the knights and noblemen left the field in favor of inferior competitors. A versifying mania now began to pervade all classes of society; chaplains, doctors, schoolmasters, weavers, blacksmiths, shoemakers—all endeavored to mend their fortunes by rhyming. Poetry sank rapidly into dullness and mediocrity, while the so-called poets rose in conceit and arrogance. The spirit of the age soon embodied these votaries of the muse in corporations, and the Emperor Charles IV. (1346-1378) gave them a charter. They generally called twelve poets among the minnesingers their masters, and hence their name Mastersingers. They met on certain days and criticised each other's productions. Correctness was their chief object, and they seemed to have little idea of the difference between poetical and prosaic expressions. Every fault was marked, and he who had fewest received the prize, and was allowed to take apprentices in the art. At the expiration of his poetical apprenticeship the young poet was admitted to the corporation and declared a master.

Though the institution of the Mastersingers was established at the close of the thirteenth century, it was not until the fifteenth and sixteenth that it really flourished, particularly through the genius of Hans Sachs. The institution, survived, however, though languishing, through the seventeenth century, and the calamities of the Thirty Years' War. At Ulm it outlasted even the changes which the French Revolution effected in Europe, and as late as 1830 twelve old Mastersingers yet remained, who, after being driven from one asylum to another, sang their ancient melodies from memory in the little hostelry where the workmen used to meet in the evening to drink together. In 1839 four only were living, and in that year these veterans assembled with great solemnity, and declaring the society of Mastersingers forever closed, presented their songs, hymns, books, and pictures to a modern musical institution at Ulm.

While the early Mastersingers were pouring forth their strains with undiminished confidence in their own powers, a new species of poetic literature was growing up beside them in the form of simple and humorous fables, or daring satires, often directed against the clergy and nobility, which were among the most popular productions of the Middle Ages. Such were "Friar Amis" and the "Ship of Fools." Indeed, from the year 1300 to the era of the Reformation, we may clearly trace the progress of a school of lay doctrine which was opposed to a great part of the teaching of the church, and which was yet allowed to prevail among the people.

Among the fables, "Reynard the Fox" had a very early origin, and has remained a favorite of the German people for several centuries. After many transformations it reappeared as a popular work at the era of the Reformation, and it was at last immortalized by the version of Goethe.

5. THE DRAMA.—We find the first symptoms of a German drama as early as the thirteenth century, in rude attempts to perform religious pieces like the old Mysteries once so popular throughout Europe. At first these dramatic readings were conducted in the churches and by the priests, but when the people introduced burlesque digressions, they were banished to the open fields, where they assumed still greater license. Students in the universities delighted to take part in them, and these exhibitions were continued after the Reformation. There is no reason to suppose that the early Christians objected to these sacred dramas or mysteries when they were compatible with their religion. They were imported into Europe from Constantinople, by crusaders and pilgrims, and became favorite shows to an illiterate populace. Indeed, Christianity was first taught throughout the north of Europe by means of these Mysteries and miracle plays, and the first missionaries had familiarized their rude audiences with the prominent incidents of Biblical history, long before the art of reading could have been called in to communicate the chronicles themselves.

The most important writings of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries are the works of the monks of the mystic school, which form the connecting link between the great era of the Crusades and the greater era of the Reformation. They kindled and kept alive a new religious fervor among the inferior clergy and the middle and lower classes, and without the labors of these reformers of the faith, the reformers of the church would never have found a whole nation waiting to receive them, and ready to support them. While the scholastic divines who wrote in Latin introduced abstruse metaphysics into their theology, the mystics represented religion as abiding in the sentiments of the heart, rather than in doctrines. Their main principle was that piety depended not on ecclesiastical forms and ceremonies, but that it consisted in the abandonment of all selfish passions. The sentiments of the mystic writers were collected and arranged by Tauler (1361), in a well-known work, entitled "German Theology." Luther, in a preface to this book, expresses his admiration of its contents, and asserts that he had found in it the doctrines of the Reformation.

Another celebrated work of this school is "The Imitation of Christ," written in Latin, and generally attributed to Thomas à Kempis, a monk who died 1471. It has passed through numberless editions, and still maintains its place among the standard devotional works of Germany and other countries.

Two other events prepared the way for the German reformers of the sixteenth century—the foundation of the universities, (1350), and the invention of printing. The universities were national institutions, open alike to rich and poor, to the knight, the clerk, and the citizen. The nation itself called these schools into life, and in them the great men who inaugurated the next period of literature were fostered and formed.

The invention of printing (1438) admitted the middle classes, who had been debarred from the use of books, to the privileges hitherto enjoyed almost exclusively by the clergy and the nobility, and placed in their hands weapons more powerful than the swords of the knights, or the thunderbolts of the clergy. The years from 1450 to 1500 form a period of preparation for the great struggle that was to signalize the coming age.

PERIOD SECOND.

THE REFORMATION TO THE BEGINNING OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY (1517-1700).

1. THE LUTHERAN PERIOD.—With the sixteenth century we enter upon the modern history and modern literature of Germany. The language now becomes settled, and the literature for a time becomes national. Luther and the Reformers belonged to the people, who, through them, now for the first time claimed an equality with the old estates of the realm, the two representatives of which, the emperor and the pope, were never more powerful than at this period. The armies of the emperor were recruited from Spain, Austria, Naples, Sicily, and Burgundy while the pope, armed with the weapons of the Inquisition, and the thunderbolts of excommunication, levied his armies of priests and monks from all parts of the Christian world. Against these formidable powers a poor Augustine monk came forth from his study in the small university of Wittenberg, with no armies, no treasures, with no weapon in his hand but the Bible, and in his clear manly voice defied both emperor and pope, clergy and nobility. There never was a more memorable spectacle.

After the Reformation nearly all eminent men in Germany, poets, philosophers, and historians, belonged to the Protestant party, and resided chiefly in the universities, which were what the monasteries had been under Charlemagne, and the castles under Frederic Barbarossa—the centres of gravitation for the intellectual and political life of the country. A new aristocracy now arose, founded on intellectual preëminence, which counted among its members princes, nobles, divines, soldiers, lawyers, and artists. But the danger which threatens all aristocracies was not averted from the intellectual nobility of Germany; the spirit of caste, which soon pervaded all their institutions, deprived the second generation of that power which men like Luther had gained at the beginning of the Reformation. The moral influence of the universities was great, but it would have been far greater if the intellectual leaders of the realm had not separated themselves from the ranks whence they themselves had risen, and to which alone they owed their influence. This intellectual aristocracy manifested a disregard of the real wants of the people, a contempt of all knowledge which did not wear the academic garb, and the same exclusive spirit of caste that characterizes all aristocracies. Latin continued to be the literary medium of scholars, and at the close of the seventeenth century German was only beginning to assert its capabilities as a vehicle of elegant and refined literature.

The sixteenth century may be called the Lutheran period, for Martin Luther (1483-1546) was the most prominent character in the general literature as well as in the theology of Germany. He was the exponent of the national feeling, he gave shape and utterance to thoughts and sentiments which had been before only obscurely expressed, and his influence was felt in almost every department of life and literature. The remodeling of the German tongue may be said to have gone hand in hand with the Reformation, and it is to Luther more than to any other that it owes its rapid progress. His translation of the Bible was the great work of the period, and gives to him the deserved title of creator of German prose. The Scriptures were now familiarly read by all classes, and never has their beautiful simplicity been more admirably rendered. The hymns of Luther are no less remarkable for their vigor of style, than for their high devotional feeling. His prose works consist chiefly of twenty volumes of sermons, and eight volumes of polemical writings, besides his "Letters" and "Table Talk," which give us a view of the singular mixture of qualities which formed the character of the great Reformer.

The literature of that period also owes much to Melanchthon (1497-1560), the author of the "Confession of Augsburg," who by his classical learning, natural sagacity, simplicity and clearness of style, and above all by his moderation and mildness, greatly contributed to the progress of the Reformation. He devoted himself to the improvement of schools and the diffusion of learning, and through his influence the Protestant princes of Germany patronized native literature, established public libraries, and promoted the general education of the people.

The earnest polemical writings of the age must be passed over, as they belong rather to ecclesiastical and political than to literary history. Yet these are the most characteristic productions of the times, and display the effects of controversy in a very unfavorable light. The license, personality, acrimony, and grossness of the invectives published by the controversial writers, particularly of the sixteenth century, can hardly be imagined by a modern reader who has not read the originals. The better specimens of this style of writing are found in the remains of Manuel and Zwingle. Manuel (1484-1530), a native of Switzerland, is an instance of the versatility of talent, which was not uncommon at this time; he was a soldier, a poet, a painter, a sculptor, and a wood- engraver. The boldness and license of his satires are far beyond modern toleration. Zwingle (1484-1531), the leading reformer of Switzerland, was a statesman, a theologian, a musician, and a soldier. His principal work is the "Exposition of the Christian Faith." A celebrated writer of prose satire was Fischart (1530-1590), whose numerous works, under the most extravagant titles, are distinguished by wit and extensive learning. His "Prophetic Almanac" was the selling book at all the fairs and markets of the day, and was read with an excitement far exceeding that produced by any modern novels. In his "Garagantua," he borrowed some of his descriptions from Rabelais; and this extravagant, satirical, and humorous book, though full of the uncouth and far-fetched combinations of words found in his other writings, contains many ludicrous caricatures of the follies of society in his age.

Franck (fl. 1533), one of the best writers of German prose on history and theology during the sixteenth century, was the representative of the mystic school, and opposed Luther, whom he called the new pope. His religious views in many respects correspond with those of the Society of Friends. Rejecting all ecclesiastical authority, he maintained that there is an internal light in man which is better fitted than even the Scriptures to guide him aright in religious matters. He wrote with bitterness and severity, though he seldom used the coarse style of invective common to his age.

Arnd (1555-1621) may be classed among the best theological writers of the period. His treatise "On True Christianity" is still read and esteemed. He belonged to the mystic school, and the pious and practical character of his work made it a favorite among religious men of various sects.

Jacob Boehm (1575-1624) was a poor shoemaker, who, without the advantages of education, devoted his mind to the most abstruse studies, and professed that his doctrines were derived from immediate revelation; his works contain many profound and lofty ideas mingled with many confused notions.

2. POETRY, SATIRE, AND DEMONOLOGY.—In the sixteenth century the old poetry of Germany was in a great measure forgotten; the Nibelungen Lied and the Heldenbuch were despised by the learned as relics of barbarian life; classical studies engaged the attention of all who loved elegant literature, and while Horace was admired, the title of German poet was generally applied as a badge of ridicule. A propensity to satire of the most violent and personal description seems to have been almost universal in these excited times. Hutten (1488-1523) shared the general excitement of the age, and warmly defended the views of Luther. He addressed many satirical pamphlets in prose and verse to the people, and was compelled to flee from one city to another, his life being always in danger from the numerous enemies excited by his severity. Next to invectives and satires, comic stories and fables were the characteristic productions of these times. Hans Sachs (1494-1576), the most distinguished of the Mastersingers of the sixteenth century, excelled in that kind of poetry as well as in all other styles of composition, and following his business as shoemaker, he made verses with equal assiduity. He employed his pen chiefly in writing innumerable tales and fables containing common morality for common people. In one of these he represents the Apostle St. Peter as being greatly perplexed by the disorder and injustice prevailing in the world. Peter longs to have the reins of government in his own hand, and believes that he could soon reduce the world to order. While he is thinking thus, a peasant girl comes to him and complains that she has to do a day's work in the field, and at the same time to keep within bounds a frolicsome young goat. Peter kindly takes the goat into custody, but it escapes into the wood, and the apostle is so much fatigued by his efforts to recover the animal that he is led to this conclusion: "If I am not competent to keep even one young goat in my care, it cannot be my proper business to perplex myself about the management of the whole world."

The best lyrical poetry was devoted to the service of the church. Its merit consists in its simple, energetic language. Hymns were the favorite literature of the people; they were the cradle songs which lulled the children to sleep, they were sung by mechanics and maid-servants engaged in their work; and they were heard in the streets and market-places instead of ballads. Luther, who loved music and psalmody, encouraged the people to take a more prominent part in public worship, and wrote for them several German hymns and psalms.

The belief in demonology and witchcraft, which was universally diffused through Europe in the Middle Ages, raged in Germany with fearful intensity and fury. While in other countries persecution was limited to the old, the ugly, and the poor, here neither rank nor age offered any exemption from suspicion and torture. While this persecution was at its height, from 1580 to 1680, more than one hundred thousand individuals, mostly women, were consigned to the flames, or otherwise sacrificed to this blood-thirsty insanity. Luther himself was a devout believer in witchcraft, and in the bodily presence of the Spirit of Evil upon the earth; all his harassing doubts and mental struggles he ascribes to his visible agency. Germany, indeed, seemed to live and breathe in an atmosphere of mysticism.

Among the mystic philosophers and speculators on natural history and the occult sciences who flourished in this period are Paracelsus (1493-1546), and Cornelius Agrippa (1486-1539). Camerarius was distinguished in the classics and philosophy; Gesner in botany, zoölogy, and the classics; Fuchs in botany and medicine; and Agricola in mineralogy.

Among the legends of the period, that of Faust, or Dr. Faustus, has obtained the most lasting popularity. There are good reasons for believing that the hero of this tale was a real personage, who lived in Suabia in the early part of the sixteenth century. He is frequently mentioned as a well-known character who gained his celebrity by the profession of magic. In the "History of Dr. Faustus," first published 1587, he is represented as a magician, who gained by unlawful arts a mastery over nature. The legend rapidly spread; It was versified by the English dramatist Marlowe, it became the foundation of innumerable tales and dramas, until, transformed by the genius of Goethe, it has acquired a prominent place in German literature.

At the conclusion of the sixteenth century, owing to the disturbed state of religious, social, and political life, and to the fact that the best minds of the age were occupied in Latin writings on theology, while a few, devoted to quiet study, cultivated only the classics, the hopes which had been raised of a national poetry and literature were blighted, and a scholastic and polemical theology continued to prevail. The native tongue was again neglected for the Latin; the national poems were translated into Latin to induce the learned to read them; native poets composed their verses in Latin, and all lectures at the universities were delivered in that tongue. The work of Luther was undone: ambitious princes and quarrelsome divines continued the rulers of Germany, and everything seemed drifting back into the Middle Ages. Then came the Thirty Years' War (1618- 1648), with all its disastrous consequences. At the close of that war the public mind was somewhat awakened, literary societies were organized, and literature was fostered; but the nation was so completely demoralized that it hardly cared for the liberty sanctioned by the treaty of Westphalia, or for the efforts of a few princes and scholars to better its intellectual condition. The population of Germany was reduced by one half; thousands of villages and towns had been burnt to the ground; the schools, the churches, the universities, were deserted; and a whole generation had grown up during the war, particularly among the lower classes, with no education at all. The once wealthy merchants were reduced to small traders. The Hanse League was broken up; commerce was suspended, and intellectual activity paralyzed. Where any national feeling was left, it was a feeling of shame and despair.

3. THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY.—During the seventeenth century the German language was regarded by comparatively few writers as a fit vehicle for polite literature, and was reserved almost exclusively for satires, novels, and religious discourses.

Opitz (1597-1639) attempted to introduce the use of his native tongue, and, in a work on German poetry, explained the laws of poetic composition and the mechanism of versification.

Several scholars at length directed their attention to the grammar of the language, which, through their influence, now began to be used in the treatment of scientific subjects. Meantime great mathematical and physical discoveries were made through the Academy of Berlin, which was founded under the auspices of Leibnitz, and scientific and literary associations were everywhere established. Books became a vast branch of commerce and great philologists and archaeologists devoted themselves to the study of classical antiquity. Puffendorf expounded his theories of political history, Kepler, of astronomy, Arnold, of ecclesiastical history; and Leibnitz laid a basis for the scientific study of philosophy in Germany. Wolf shaped the views of Leibnitz into a comprehensive system, and popularized them by publishing his works in the German language. Thomasius, the able jurist and pietistic philosopher, was the first, in 1688, to substitute in the universities the German for the Latin language as the medium of instruction.

Satirical novels form a prominent feature in the prose literature of the time, and took the place of the invectives and satires of the sixteenth century. No work of fiction, however, produced such an excitement as the translation of Defoe's "Robinson Crusoe." Soon after its publication more than forty imitations appeared.

During this century the Mastersingers went on composing, according to the rules of their guilds, but we look in vain for the raciness and simplicity of Hans Sachs. Some poets wrote plays in the style of Terence, or after English models; and fables in the style of Phaedrus became fashionable. But there was no trace anywhere of originality, truth, taste, or feeling, except in sacred poetry. Paul Gerhard (1606-1696) is yet without an equal in his sacred songs; many of the best hymns which are still heard in the churches of Germany date from the age of this poet. Soon, however, even this class of poetry degenerated on one side into dry theological phraseology, on the other into sentimental affectation.

This century saw the rise and the fall of the first and the second Silesian schools. The first is represented by Opitz (1597-1639), Paul Flemming, a writer of hymns (1609-1640), and a number of less gifted poets. Its character is pseudo-classical. All these poets endeavored to write correctly, sedately, and eloquently. Some of them aimed at a certain simplicity and sincerity, particularly Flemming. But it would be difficult to find in all their writings one single thought or expression that had not been used before; although the works of Opitz and of his followers were marked by a servile imitation of French and Dutch poets, they exerted an influence on the literary taste of their country, enriched the German language with new words and phrases, and established the rules of prosody.

The second Silesian school is represented by Hoffmanswaldan (1618-1679) and Lohenstein (1635-1683), who undertook to introduce into the German poetry the bad taste of Marini which at that time so corrupted the literature of Italy. Their compositions are bombastic and full of metaphors,—the poetry of adjectives, without substance, truth, or taste.

Dramatic writing rose little above the level of the first period, The Mysteries and Moralities still continued popular, and some of them were altered to suit the new doctrines. Opitz wrote some operas in imitation of the Italian, and Gryphius acquired popularity by his translations from Marini and his introduction of the pastoral drama. The theatrical productions of Lohenstein, characterized by pedantry and bad taste, together with the multitude of others belonging to this age, are curious instances of the folly and degradation to which the stage may be reduced.

PERIOD THIRD.

FROM THE BEGINNING OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY TO THE PRESENT TIME (1700-1885.)

1. THE SAXONIC AND SWISS SCHOOLS.—In contrast to the barrenness of the last period, the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries present us with a brilliant constellation of writers in every department of letters, whose works form an era in the intellectual development of Germany unsurpassed in many respects by any other in the history of literature. Gottsched and Bodmer each succeeded in establishing schools of poetry which exerted great influence on the literary taste of the country. Gottsched (1700- 1766), the founder of the Saxonic school, exercised the same dictatorship as a poet and critic which Opitz had exercised at the beginning of the seventeenth century. He was the advocate and copyist of French models in art and poetry, and he used his widespread influence in favor of the correct and so-called classical style. After having rendered good service in putting down the senseless extravagance of the school of Lohenstein, he became himself a pedantic and arrogant critic; then followed a long literary warfare between him and Bodmer (1698-1783), the founder of the Swiss school. Gottsched and his followers at Leipsic defended the French and insisted on classical forms and traditional rules; Bodmer and his friends in Switzerland defended the English style, and insisted on natural sentiment and spontaneous expression. A paper war was carried on in their respective journals, which at length ended favorably to the Swiss or Bodmer's school, which, although the smaller party, obtained a splendid victory over its antagonist.

Many of the followers of Gottsched, disgusted with his pedantry, finally separated themselves from him and formed a new poetical union, called the Second Saxonic School. They established at the same time a periodical, which was at once the channel of their communications and the point around which they centred. The principal representatives of this school were Rabener (1714-1771), very popular for the cheerful strain of wit that runs through his satires, and for the correctness of his language and style; Gellert (1715-1769), whose "Fables" contain great moral truth enlivened by vivid pictures of life, full of sprightliness and humor, and expressed in a style of extraordinary ease and clearness; Kästner (1719-1800), a celebrated and acute mathematician, and the author of many epigrams, elegies, odes, and songs; John Elias Schlegel (1718-1749), distinguished for his dramatic compositions; and Zachariae (1726-1777), endowed with a poetical and witty invention, which he displayed in his comic epopees and descriptive poems.

The following two poets were the most celebrated of them all: Hagedorn (1708-1754), whose fables and poems are remarkable for their fancy and wit; and Haller (1708-1777), who acquired an enduring fame as a poet, anatomist, physiologist, botanist, and scholar. Of inferior powers, but yet of great popularity, were: Gleim (1719-1803), upon whom the Germans bestowed the title of "father," which shows at once how high he ranked among the poets of his time; Kleist (1715-1759), whose poems are characterized by pleasant portraitures, harmonious numbers, great ease, and richness of thought, conciseness of expression, and a noble morality; Ramler (1725-1798), who has been styled the German Horace, from his odes in praise of Frederic the Great; Nicolai (1733-1811), who acquired considerable fame, both for the promotion of literature and for the correction of German taste particularly, through his critical reviews; and Gessner (1730-1787), who gained a great reputation for his "Idyls," which are distinguished by freshness of thought and grace and eloquence of style.

2. KLOPSTOCK, LESSING, WIELAND, AND HERDER.—Klopstock (1724-1803), inspired by the purest enthusiasm for Christianity, and by an exalted love for his fatherland, expressed his thoughts and feelings in eloquent but somewhat mystic strains. He was hailed as the herald of a new school of sacred and national literature, and his "Messiah" announced him in some respects as the rival of Milton. In comparing the Messiah with the "Paradise Lost," Herder says: "Milton's poem Is a building resting on mighty pillars; Klopstock's, a magic picture hovering between heaven and earth, amid the tenderest emotions and the most moving scenes of human nature."

Lessing (1729-1781) produced a reformation in German literature second only to that effected by Luther in theology. He was equally eminent as a dramatist, critic, and philosopher. His principal dramatic productions are "Emilie Galotti" and "Nathan the Wise." As a critic he demanded creative imagination from all who would claim the title of poet, and spared neither friends nor foes in his efforts to maintain a high standard of literary excellence. The writings of Lessing exerted a commanding influence on the best minds of Germany in almost all departments of thought. They mark, and in a great measure produced, the important change in the tone of German literature, from the national and Christian character of Klopstock to the cosmopolitan character which prevails in the writings of Goethe and Schiller.

Wieland (1733-1813) was, in his youth, the friend of Klopstock, and would tolerate nothing but religious poetry; but he suddenly turned to the opposite extreme, and began to write epicurean romances as vehicles of his new views of human life and happiness. Among his tales are "Agathon," "Musarion," and "Aristippus," which last is considered his best work. In all these writings his purpose was to represent pleasure or utility as the only criterion of truth. Although there is much in his prose writings to subject him to severe censure, he maintains his place in the literature of his native country as one of its most gay, witty, and graceful poets. His "Oberon" is one of the most charming and attractive poems of modern times.

Herder (1741-1803) was deeply versed in almost all branches of study, and exercised great influence, not only as a poet, but as a theologian, philosopher, critic, and philologist. He studied philosophy under Kant, and, after filling the offices of teacher and clergyman, he was invited to join the circle of poets and other literary men at Weimar, under the patronage of the Grand Duke Karl August. Here he produced a series of works on various subjects, all marked by a kindly and noble spirit of humanity. Among them are a treatise "On the Origin of Language," an essay on "Hebrew Poetry," and a work entitled "Ideas for the Philosophy of Humanity," besides poetical and critical writings. In his collection of popular ballads from various nations he showed his power of appreciating the various national tomes of poetry.

The most noble feature in Herder's character was his constant striving for the highest interests of mankind. He did not employ literature as the means of satisfying personal ambition, and the melancholy of his last days arose from his lofty and unfulfilled aspirations.

His friend Richter said of him: "Herder was no poet,—he was something far more sublime and better than a poet,—he was himself a poem,—an Indian Greek Epic composed by one of the purest of the gods."

3. GOETHE AND SCHILLER.—The close of the eighteenth and the beginning of the nineteenth century, the age of Herder, Goethe, and Schiller, was one of remarkable intellectual excitement, and it has produced a literature richer, more voluminous, and more important than that of all preceding periods taken collectively.

The time extending between 1150 and 1300 has been styled the First Classic Period, and that we are now entering upon is regarded as the second. These two epochs resemble each other not only in their productiveness, but in the failure of both to maintain a distinct national school of poetry. In the thirteenth century the national epic appeared, but was soon neglected for the foreign legends and sentimental verses of the romancists and minnesingers. In the eighteenth century, when Lessing had made a path for original genius by clearing away French pedantry and affectation, there appeared some hope of a revival of true national literature. But Herder directed the literary enthusiasm of his time towards foreign poetry and universal studies, and a cosmopolitan rather than a national style has been the result; although for thoughtfuless and sincerity, and for the number of important ideas which it has brought into circulation, modern German literature may justly claim the highest honor.

Goethe (1749-1832) was a man of universal genius; he was born at Frankfort-on-the-Maine, and of his boyhood he gives a pleasant account in his work entitled "Poetry and Truth." In 1773 the appearance of his "Götz von Berlichingen," a drama founded upon the autobiography of that national and popular hero, was regarded as the commencement of an entirely new period in German dramatic literature. It was followed, in 1774, by the sentimental novel, "The Sorrows of Werther," in which Goethe gave expression to the morbid sentiments of many of his contemporaries. The Grand Duke of Weimar invited him to his court, where he was elevated to an honorable position. Here he produced his dramatic poems, "Iphigenia," "Egmont," "Tasso," and "Faust," besides many occasional poems and other works, and continued writing until his eighty-second year, while he varied his literary life with the pleasures of society.

As a poet, Goethe is chiefly known by his dramas, "Faust," "Tasso," and "Egmont;" his lyrical and occasional poems, and his domestic epic, entitled "Herman and Dorothea." The first part of "Faust" is the poem by which the fame of this author has been most widely extended. Though incomplete, it is remarkably original, and suggests important reflections on human character and destiny. The narrative is partly founded on the old legend of Faust, the magician. We are introduced to the hero at the moment when he despairs of arriving at any valuable result, after years of abstruse study, and is about to put the cup of poison to his lips. The church bells of Easter Sunday recall to his mind the scenes of his innocent childhood, and he puts aside the cup and resolves to commence a new career of life. At this moment, his evil genius, Mephistopheles, appears, and persuades him to abandon philosophy and to enjoy the pleasures of the world. Faust yields to his advice, and after many adventures ends his career in crime and in misery. Many parts of the poem are written in a mystical vein, and intimate rather than express the various reflections to be deduced from it. The second part of "Faust" is remarkable for its varied and harmonious versification.

Goethe was a voluminous writer, and much devoted to the fine arts and the natural sciences, as is attested by his remarkable work on the theory of colors. He extended his wide sympathies over almost every department of literature.

The great merit of Goethe lies not so much in his separate productions, as in the philosophy of life and individual development which pervades his works, all of which, from "Faust," his greatest achievement, to his songs, elegies, and shorter poems, have the same peculiar character, and are tinged with the same profound reflections. The service he rendered to the German language was immense. The clearness and simplicity of his prose style make the best model for the imitation of his countrymen. During his lifetime, professors of various universities lectured on his works, and other authors wrote commentaries on his productions, while his genius has been amply recognized in foreign countries, especially within the last thirty years.

Schiller (1759-1805) was born at Marbach, a town of Wurtemberg. At the age of fourteen he was admitted to the military academy at Stuttgart, where, in spite of its dull routine, he secretly educated himself as a poet. At the age of twenty-two, he gave to the world his tragedy of the "Robbers" (composed when he was only seventeen), in which his own wild longings for intellectual liberty found a turbulent and exaggerated expression. The public received it with great enthusiasm, as the production of a vigorous and revolutionary genius, and Schiller soon after escaped from the academy to try his fortune as a theatrical author. Accompanied by a young musician, with only twenty-three florins in his pocket, he set out for Manheim, on the night when the Grand Duke Paul of Russia paid a visit to Stuttgart, and all the people were too full of the excitement of the royal preparations and illuminations to observe the departure of the young poet. The good citizens did not dream that an obscure youth was leaving the city gate, of whom they would one day be far more proud than of the glittering visit of the Grand Duke. Yet the royal entrance is only now remembered because on that night young Schiller ran away; and the people of Stuttgart, when they would show a stranger their objects of interest, point first of all to the statue of Friedrich Schiller.

After many adventures, Schiller was appointed poet to the theatre at Manheim. At a later period he was made Professor of History at the University of Jena, a position for which his genius eminently fitted him, and every prospect of happiness opened before him. But his health soon failed, and, after a short illness, he expired at the early age of forty- five.

The principal works of Schiller are the dramas of "Wallenstein", "Marie Stuart", "The Maid of Orleans", "The Bride of Messina", and the celebrated ode called the "Song of the Bell". Besides these, he wrote many ballads, didactic poems, and lyrical pieces. The "Song of the Bell" stands alone as a successful attempt to unite poetry with the interests of daily life and industry. In his lyrical ballads and romances, Schiller rises above the didactic and descriptive style, and is inspired with noble purposes. The "Cranes of Ibycus" and the "Fight with the Dragon" may be mentioned as instances. Schiller was so interesting as a man, a philosopher, a historian, and critic, as well as poet, that, as Carlyle observes, in the general praise of his labors, his particular merits have been overlooked. His aspirations in literature were noble and benevolent. He regarded poetry especially as something other than a trivial amusement,—as the companion and cherisher of the best hopes and affections that can be developed in human life.

While Goethe excels Schiller in completeness of aesthetical and philosophical perception, and in the versatility of his world-embracing and brilliant attainments, as a lover of his race, and as a poet who knew how to embody that love in the most exquisite conceptions, Schiller far surpassed him, and stands preeminent among all other poets. While Goethe represented the actual thoughts and feelings of his age, Schiller reflected its ideal yearnings; while the practical result of Goethe's influence was to develop the capacities of each individual to their utmost extent, Schiller's aim was to lead men to consecrate their gifts to the good, the beautiful, and the true, the ethical trinity of the ages. The one poet represents the majesty, and at the same time the tyranny of the intellect; the other, the power and the loveliness of the affections; and although Goethe will always receive the respect and admiration of the world, Schiller will command its love.

4. THE GÖTTINGEN SCHOOL.—This association was formed at the epoch of Goethe and Schiller, when poets such as no other times had produced started up in quick succession. The following are among the principal members of this school: Voss (1756-1826) is distinguished by a classical taste and great fluency of style. His "Louise" is a masterpiece of bucolic poetry. His "Idyls" are the best of his minor poems. Christian Stolberg (1748-1821) was the author of two dramas, many elegiac poems and translations from the Greek. Leopold Stolberg (1750-1817), his brother, was still more successful as a poet, and distinguished for his acute observation of the beautiful in nature. Hoelty (1748-1776) was a poet of the gentler affections, the eloquent advocate of love, friendship, and benevolence. Claudius (1743-1815), in his poetical productions, ranges through song, elegy, romance, and fable. Bürger (1748-1794) was remarkable as the author of wild, picturesque ballads and songs. His most celebrated poem is "Leonore", which was at one time known by heart all over Germany. Schubart (1739-1791), though not belonging to the Göttingen association, may be here referred to. His songs and poems evince a warm imagination, and his descriptions are true and beautiful. One of the most powerful writers of this period was Klinger (1753-1831), whose highly wrought productions reflected most vividly the vehemence of thought and feeling of his time, and whose drama, "Storm and Stress", gave the name to that peculiar school known as the Storm and Stress literature.

5. THE ROMANTIC SCHOOL.—The founders of the Romantic School, Novalis, the two Schlegels, and Tieck, opposed the system which held up the great masters of antiquity as exclusive models of excellence; they condemned this theory as cold and narrow, and opposed alike to the true interests of literature and progress. They pointed out the vast changes in religion, morality, thought, habits, and manners which separated the ancient from the modern world, and declared that to follow blindly the works of Virgil and Cicero was to repress all originality and creative power. From the times of Pericles or Augustus they turned to the Middle Ages, and, forgetting their crimes and miseries, threw around them a halo of illusive romance. It was not only in poetry that this reaction was visible—in art and architecture the same tendency appeared. The stiff and quaint but vigorous productions of the old German painters were drawn forth from the obscurity where they had long mouldered; the glorious old cathedrals were repaired and embellished; the lays of the minnesingers, collected by Tieck, were on every lip, and the records of the olden times were ransacked for historic and traditionary lore.

Although the Romantic School soon fell into extravagances which did much to diminish its influence, the whole of Germany was to some extent affected by it. The love for particular epochs led to researches in the language and antiquities, as such, as in Oriental studies, and during the calamitous period of the French invasion the national feeling was revived and kept alive by the stirring and patriotic songs which recalled the glories of the past.

The brothers Schlegel are more celebrated as philologists and critics than as poets; although their metrical compositions are numerous, they are wholly deficient in warmth, passion, and imagination. Tieck is more distinguished as a novelist than a poet, but even his prose tales are so pervaded by the spirit of poetry that they may be said to belong to this department.

Among other poets, Körner and Arndt are best remembered by their patriotic songs, which once thrilled every German heart.

Seldom in romance or history is there found a more noble or heroic character than Theodore Körner (1791-1813). Short as was his existence, he had already struck, with more or less success, almost every chord of the poetic lyre. His dramas, with many faults, abound in scenes glowing with power and passion, and prove what he might have achieved had life been spared to him. But it is his patriotic poems, his "Lyre and Sword," which have invested the name of Körner with the halo of fame and rendered his memory sacred to his countrymen.

The name of Arndt (1769-1860) is also associated in every German mind with the cause of national liberty; and his poems have incited many German hearts to the achievement of heroic deeds. His patriotic song, "Where is the German's fatherland," is a universal favorite. Arndt is not less celebrated for his historical and scientific works than for his poems.

The Suabian School is represented by Uhland, Schwab, Kerner, and others who have enriched German poetry with many original lyrics. Uhland (1787- 1862) is the most distinguished ballad writer of the present age in Germany. The conceptions embodied in his poetry refer chiefly to the Middle Ages, and his stories are many of them founded on well-known legends.

Kerner (b. 1786) is more intrinsically romantic than Uhland, but he is equally at home in other species of composition. Schwab (1792-1850) is distinguished among the lyric poets. An epic tendency, combined with great facility in depicting scenery and describing events, is the main feature of his metrical romances.

Rückert (1789-1866), one of the most original lyric poets of Germany, is distinguished for the versatility of his descriptive powers, the richness of his imagination, and his bold, fiery spirit. He has been followed by Daumer, Bodenstedt, and others.

The most remarkable poet whom Germany has produced in the present century is Heinrich Heine (1800-1856), and his poems are among the most fascinating lyrics in European literature. The delicacy, wit, and humor of his writings, their cruel and cynical laughter, and their tender pathos, give him a unique place in the literature of his country. A school of writers known as Young Germany was deeply influenced by Heine. Their object was to revolutionize the political, social, and religious institutions of the country. Börne (d. 1837), the rival of Heine in the leadership of the party, was inferior to him in poetical power, but his superior in earnestness, moral beauty, and elevation. Börne was the nightmare of the German princes, at whom he darted, from his place of exile in Paris, the arrows of his bitter satire. Some of his writings are among the most eloquent of modern German compositions. Prominent among the followers of Heine and Börne are Gutzkow (b. 1811), a novelist, essayist, and dramatist; Laube (b. 1806); and Mundt (b. 1808).

From about 1830 a group of Austrian poets, more or less political in tendency, commanded the respect of all Germans, the chief among them was Count Auersperg, who, under the assumed name of Anastasius Grün, wrote lyrical and other brilliant and effective poems. Of the writers who before 1848 attempted to force poetry into the service of freedom, the best known is Herwegh, who advocated liberty with a vehemence that won for him immense popularity. The poems of Freiligrath (1810-1876) have graphic force, and possess merit of a high order. He has a rich imagination, great power of language, and musical versification. Among the more distinguished contemporary poets, Hamerling is remarkable for the boldness of his conceptions, and the passionate vehemence of his expression.

6. THE DRAMA.—At the beginning of the eighteenth century, Gottsched and his followers had rendered good service to the stage, not so much by their own productions as by driving from it the bombast of Lohenstein. Lessing followed this movement by attacking the French dramas, which had hitherto been esteemed the highest productions of human genius, and by bringing forward Shakspeare as the true model of dramatic style. This attack was so successful that the influence of the French drama soon declined, and in the reaction, Greeks, Romans, kings and princesses were replaced by honest, tiresome burghers, with their commonplace wives and daughters, and the toga and tunic gave way to woolen petticoats and dress-coats. Everything like poetry, either in language or sentiment, was banished from the stage. Such was the state of things when Goethe appeared. His rapid glance at once discerned the poverty of dramatic art, and his flexible and many-sided genius set itself to supply the deficiency. His "Götz von Berlichingen" illustrated the possibility of a dramatic literature founded upon national history and national character. His "Egmont" is a highly poetic and eloquent dramatization of that popular hero, and of the struggles of the Netherlands against the tyranny of Spain. His "Tasso" is a poem of psychological interest, illustrating a favorite maxim of the author that a poet, like every other artist, for his true development, needs education. "A hundred times," says Goethe, "have I heard artists boast that they owed everything to themselves, and I am often provoked to add, 'Yes, and the result is just what might be expected.' What, let me ask, is a man in and of himself?"

The lesson of the drama of "Tasso" is this—that the poet cannot fulfill his duty by cultivating merely his imagination, however splendid and powerful it may be. Like all other men who would be good and great, he must exercise patience and moderation; must learn the value of self- denial; must endure the hardships and contradictions of the real world; contentedly occupy his place, with its pains and pleasures, as a part of the great whole, and patiently wait to see the beauty and brightness which flow from his soul, win their way through the obstacles presented by human society. The singular merit of this dramatic poem is this: that it is the fruit of genuine experience, adorned with the hues of a beautiful imagination, and clothed in classical language; but it is a work written for the few.

"Iphigenia" is a fine imitation of the ancient Greek style, but not well suited to the stage.

In his dramatic, as in all his other works, the only end and aim of Goethe was to carry to perfection the art in which he was so great a master. Virtue and vice, truth and falsehood, are each portrayed with the same graceful complacency and the same exquisite skill. His immense and wide- spreading influence renders this singular indifference, which seems to confound the very sense of right and wrong, doubly lamentable.

In plastic skill and variety, the dramatic creations of Schiller are regarded, in some respects, inferior to those of Goethe, but they all glow with the love of true goodness and greatness, and with an enthusiasm for virtue and liberty which communicates itself, as by an electric spark, to his readers. The violent tone of Schiller's first tragedy, the "Robbers," was suggested by other theatrical writers of the period, who esteemed wildness and absurdity the chief characteristics of poetical genius. Schiller gave to his dramatic works more movement and popular interest than can be found in Goethe's dramas, but yielded in some instances to the sentimental tone so prevalent in German poetry. "Fiesco" was written in a better style than the "Robbers," though less suited to please the low theatrical taste of the time. "Don Carlos" showed more maturity of thought, and is pervaded by a coloring of poetic sentiment; "Wallenstein" won for the poet a universal reputation in his native land, and was translated into English by Coleridge. "Marie Stuart," the "Maid of Orleans," and the "Bride of Messina," contributed still more to increase the poet's fame. "Wilhelm Tell" was the most popular of Schiller's plays, and is still esteemed by some as his best production. Here the love of liberty, so wildly expressed in the "Robbers," appears in its true and refined character.

Kotzebue (1760-1819) was one of the most successful playwrights of Germany. He composed an almost countless number of plays, and his plots were equally versatile and amusing; but he was entirely destitute of poetic and moral beauty. His opposition to liberal principles caused him to be regarded as the enemy of liberty, and to be assassinated by an enthusiastic student named George Sand, who, on obtaining admittance to him under the pretense of business, stabbed him to the heart.

While the influence of the Romantic School tended to invest all poetry with a dreamy and transcendental character, in the drama it was mingled with stormy and exciting incidents, often carried to the extreme of exaggeration and absurdity. The Romancists dealt almost exclusively with the perturbed elements of the human mind and the fearful secrets of the heart. They called to their aid the mysteries of the dark side of nature, and ransacked the supernatural world for its marvels and its horrors. The principal of these "Power Men," as they were called, are Müllner, Werner, Howald, and Grillparzer.

Müllner (1774-1829) displayed no common order of poetic genius; but the elements of crime, horror, and remorse often supply the place of originality of thought and delineation of character. Werner (1768-1823), after a youth of alternate profligacy and remorse, embraced the Catholic faith and became a preacher. His dramas of "Martin Luther," "Attila," and the "Twenty-ninth of February," have rendered him one of the most popular authors in Germany. Grillparzer (b. 1790) is the author of a drama entitled the "Ancestress." The wildest dreams of Müllner and Werner sink into insignificance before the extravagance of this production, both in language and sentiment. The "Sappho" of this author displays much lyric beauty. Iffland (1759-1814) was a fertile but dull dramatist. One of the best national tragedies was written by Münch Bellinghausen. Charlotte Birchpfeifer has dramatized a great number of stories. Raupach (1784-1852) was one of the most able of recent German writers of plays, Gutzkow is distinguished among contemporary dramatists; and Freytag and Bauernfeld are excellent writers of comedy. Kleist (d. 1811) was also a distinguished writer of dramas of the Romantic School. Mosenthal, the author of "Deborah," has achieved distinction by aiming at something higher than stage effect.

7. PHILOSOPHY.—The appearance of Kant (1724-1804) created a new era in German philosophy. Previous to his time, the two systems most in vogue were the sensualism of Locke and his followers and the idealism of Leibnitz, Wolf, and others. Kant, in his endeavors to ascertain what we can know and what we originally do know, was led to the fundamental laws of the mind, and to investigate original or transcendental ideas, those necessary and unchangeable forms of thought, without which we can perceive nothing. For instance, our perceptions are submitted to the two forms of time and space. Hence these two ideas must be within us, not in the objects and not derived from experience, but the necessary and pure intuitions of the internal sense. The work in which Kant endeavored to ascertain those ideas, and the province of certain human knowledge, is entitled the "Critique of Pure Reason," and the doctrines there expounded have been called the Critical Philosophy and also the Transcendental. In the "Critique of Practical Reason" the subject of morals is treated, and that of aesthetics in the "Observations on the Sublime and Beautiful."

The advent of Kant created a host of philosophical writers and critics, and besides Lessing and Herder there were Moses Mendelssohn, Hamann (the Magus of the North), Reinhold, Jacobi, and many others who speculated in various directions upon the most momentous problems of humanity and of the human soul.

Fichte (1762-1814) carried the doctrine of Kant to its extreme point, and represented all that the individual perceives without himself, or all that is distinguished from the individual, as the creation of this I or ego; that the life of the mind is the only real life, and that everything else is a delusion.

Schelling (1775-1854), in his "Philosophy of Identity," argues that the same laws prevail throughout the material and the intellectual world. His later writings contain theories in which the doctrines of Christianity are united with philosophical speculations. The leading principle of Schelling is found in a supposed intuition, which he describes as superior to all reasoning, and admitting neither doubt nor explanation. Coleridge adopted many views of this philosopher, and some of his ideas may be found in the contemplative poems of Wordsworth.

Hegel (1770-1831), in his numerous, profound, and abstruse writings, has attempted to reduce all the departments of knowledge to one science, founded on a method which is expounded in his work on Logic. The "Identity System" of Schelling and the "Absolute Logic" of Hegel have already produced an extensive library of philosophical controversy, and the indirect influence of the German schools of philosophy has affected the tone of the literature in France, England, America, Denmark, and Sweden. The effect of German philosophy has been to develop intense intellectual activity. The habit of searching into the hidden mysteries of being has inclined the German mind to what is deepest, and sometimes to what is most obscure in thought; and the tendency to rise to the absolute, which is characteristic of this philosophy, manifests its influence not only in the blending of poetry and metaphysics, but in every department of science, literature, and art. The literary theory thus developed, that ideal beauty and not the imitation of nature is the highest principle of art, is everywhere applied even to the study of the great monuments of the past, and in the writings of the German archaeologists new youth seems to spring from the ruins of the ancient world. The physical sciences are also introduced into that universal sphere of ideas where the most minute observations, as well as the most important results, pertain to general interests.

From 1818 to the time of his death, in 1831, the influence of Hegel dominated the highest thought. Later, his school broke into three divisions; Ruge, one of the most brilliant writers of the school, led the extreme radicals; Strauss resolved the narratives of the gospel into myths, and found the vital elements of Christianity in its spiritual teaching; while Feuerbach urged that all religion should be replaced by a sentiment of humanity. Ulrici and the younger Fichte exercised considerable influence as advocates of a pantheistic doctrine which aims to reconcile religion and science. None of these names, however, have the importance which attaches to that of Schopenhauer (d. 1860), who, at the present day, stirs a deeper interest than any other thinker. His main doctrine is that Will is the foundation principle of existence, the one reality in the universe, and all else is mere appearance. History is a record of turmoil and wretchedness, and the world and life essentially evil. High moral earnestness and great literary genius are shown in his graphic and scornful pictures of the darker aspects of the world.

Van Hartmann, the most prominent leader of the Pessimistic School (1842- 1872), the latest original thinker of Germany, in his "Philosophy of the Unconscious," follows essentially the same line of thought. He assumes that there is in nature a blind, impersonal, unconscious, all-pervading will and idea, a pure and spiritual activity, independent of brain and nerve, and manifesting itself in thought, emotion, instinct, morals, language, perception, and history. He teaches that this is the last principle of philosophy, described by Spinoza as substance, by Fichte as the absolute I, by Plato and Hegel as the absolute idea, and by Schopenhauer as Will. He believes the world to be utterly and hopelessly bad, and the height of wisdom to suppress the desire to live. At the same time he believes that there is no peace for the heart and intellect until religion, philosophy, and science are seen to be one, as root, stem, and leaves are all organic expressions of one same living tree.

8. MISCELLANEOUS WRITINGS.—The best German minds of the nineteenth century have been absorbed by severe labor in all branches of learning and the sciences. Many memoirs of eminent persons have appeared, and many books of travel, since the days of George Forster (1754-1794), the teacher of Humboldt and the inaugurator of a new scientific and picturesque school of the literature of travel. Lichtenstein has written his travels in Southern Africa; Prince Maximilian von Wied and Martius, in Brazil; Pöppig, in Chili, Peru, etc.; Burmeister and Tschudi, in South America; Lepsius and Brugsch, in Egypt; and more recently, Gützlaff, in China; Siebold, in Japan; Barth and Vogel, in Africa; Leichhardt, in Australia; the brothers Schlagintweit, one of whom fell a victim to his zeal, in Asia; and Ida Pfeiffer (1797-1858), a woman of rare intrepidity, who visited, mostly on foot, the most remote regions of the globe. Another tourist and voluminous writer is Kohl (b. 1808). Qualities rarely united in one individual met in the character of Alexander von Humboldt (1769- 1859), an enterprising traveler, a man of extensive science, and an accomplished writer. Accompanied by his friend Bonpland, he visited South America, and after five years of adventurous research among the wonders of nature, he returned, and prepared for the press the results of his travels—the "Aspects of Nature," "Picturesque Views of the Cordilleras," and "Travels in the Equinoctial Regions of America." This veteran student produced at an advanced age a remarkable work entitled "Cosmos," containing the results of a long life of observation and contemplation. In the first part he gives general views of the economy of nature, while in the second we find ingenious speculations regarding the influence of nature on human society, in its various stages of culture.

The Chevalier Bunsen (d. 1860) celebrated by his theological and historico-philosophical researches, has written, among other works, one on the "Position of Egypt in the History of the World," which is a learned dissertation on the antiquities and especially on the primitive language of Egypt.

In the periodicals of Germany every department of letters and science is represented, and through the book-fairs of Leipsic all the literature of the ancient and modern world passes. They are the magazines of the productions of all nations. Every class of contending tastes and opinions is represented and all the contrasts of thought which have been developed in the course of ages meet in the Leipsic book-market.

SCIENCE.—The growth of science has been one of the most powerful factors in the recent development of Germany, and some of the best works present in a popular form the results of scientific labor. Among these the first place belongs to the "Cosmos" of Humboldt. Although no longer in accordance with the best thought, it has enduring merit from the author's power of handling vast masses of facts, his poetic feeling and purity and nobility of style.

In chemistry Liebig (d. 1873) is widely and popularly known; DuBois- Raymond has made great researches in animal electricity, physics, and physiology; Virchow in biology; Helmholtz in physiological optics and sound; Haeckel has extended the theories and investigations of Darwin, and all have made admirable attempts to render science intelligible to ordinary readers.

With the death of Goethe began a new era in German literature not yet closed. The period has been one of intense political excitement, and while much of the best of the nation has been devoted to politics there has also been great literary activity deeply influenced by the practical struggles, hopes, and fears of the time. There has been a tendency in German writers hitherto to neglect the laws of expression, although their writings have evinced great originality and power of imagination, owing doubtless to the fact that they were addressed only to particular classes of readers. But since the political unity of the country has been accomplished, increasing numbers of thinkers and scholars have appealed to the whole nation, and, in consequence, have cultivated more directness and force of style.

NOVELS, ROMANCES, AND POPULAR LEGENDS.—Poetry and prose fiction form the general literature of a nation, and are distinguished from the literature of the study or from special literature, which consists chiefly of books for the use of distinct classes or parties. Fiction borders closely on the province of history, which, in its broad and comprehensive outlines, must necessarily leave unnoticed many of the finer lights and shades of human life, descriptions of motives, private characters, and domestic scenes. To supply these in the picture of humanity is the distinct office of fiction, which, while free in many respects, should still be essentially true. The poetry and fiction of a country should be the worthy companion to its history. The true poet should be the interpreter and illustrator of life. While the historian describes events and the outward lives of men, the poet penetrates into the inner life, and portrays the spirit that moves them. The historian records facts; the poet records feelings, thoughts, hopes, and desires; the historian keeps in view the actual man; the poet, the ideal man; the historian tells us what man has been; the poet reminds us either in his dreams of the past, or in his visions of the future, what man can be; and the true poet who fulfills such a duty is as necessary to the development and education of mankind as the historian.

The numerous fictitious works of Germany may be arranged in four different classes. The first, comprehending historical romances, affords few writers who bear comparison with Scott. In the second class, containing novels which describe characters and scenes in real life, German literature is also comparatively poor. The third class comprises all the fictions marked by particular tendencies respecting art, literature, or society. In the fourth class, which includes imaginative tales, German literature is especially rich. To this department of fiction, in which the imagination is allowed to wander far beyond the bounds of real life and probability, the Germans apply distinctively the term poetical. In these imaginative and mystical fictions there is an important distinction between such tales as convey moral truth and interest under an array of visionary adventures, and those which are merely fantastic and almost destitute of meaning.

Goethe's novel, "Wilhelm Meister's Apprenticeship," may be classed with fictions intended to convey certain views of life; but its chief defect is, that the object of the writer remains in a mist, even at the end of the story. The "Elective Affinities," while it contains many beauties as a work of art, is objectionable in a moral point of view.

Jean Paul Richter (1763-1825) describes human life in all its aspects of light and shade, and his voluminous works embrace all subjects, from the highest problems of transcendental philosophy and the most passionate poetical delineations to "Instructions in the Art of Falling Asleep;" but his essential character, however disguised, is that of a philosopher and moral poet, whose study has been human nature, and whose delight is in all that is beautiful, tender, and mysteriously sublime in the fate or history of man. Humor is the ruling quality of his mind, the central fire that pervades and vivifies his whole being. The chief productions of Jean Paul (the title under which he wrote) are novels, of which "Hesperus" and "Titan" are considered his masterpieces. These and the charming prose idyl, "The Years of Wild Oats," keep their place as works of permanent excellence. In his famous "Dream," in which he describes a universe without religion, he rises to the loftiest height of imagination.

Tieck (1773-1853) was at once a novelist, poet, and critic; but his fairy tales have perhaps rendered him most popular. His fancy was brilliant and sportive, and his imagination varied and fantastic. The world of his creation was peopled by demons who shed their malignant influence on mankind, or by spirits such as the Rosicrucians had conjured up, nymphs of the air, the woods, or waters. These airy visions he wove into form and shape with a master hand, and he invested even the common objects of life with a supernatural hue. At times he seems almost to have acquired a closer intimacy with nature than that granted to common men, and to have dived into the secret of her operations and the working of her laws. But while Tieck is unrivaled in the world of phantasy, he becomes an ordinary writer when he descends to that of daily life.

Hardenberg, known by the assumed name of Novalis (1772-1801), by his unsullied character, his early death, and the mystic tone of his productions, was long regarded with an enthusiasm which has now greatly declined. His romance, "Henry von Ofterdingen," contains elements of beauty, but it deals too exclusively with the shadowy, the distant, and the unreal. His "Aphorisms" are sometimes deep and original, but often paradoxical and unintelligible.

La Motte Fouqué (1777-1843) is best known by his charming story of "Undine," founded on one of those traditions in which the ancient fairy mythology of Germany abounded. Undine, a beautiful water-spirit, wins the heart of a noble knight, and consents to be his bride. We have seen it was only through the union with a being of mortal mould that the spirits of air and water could obtain the gift of a soul. But before giving her hand to her lover, Undine reminds him that the relentless laws of her race condemn her to become herself the instrument of his destruction if he should break his plighted vow. The knight accepts the conditions, and for a time he remains true to his beautiful wife. But at length, weary of her charms, he seeks the daughter of a neighboring baron for his bride, and in the midst of the wedding festivities the faithless knight is suffocated by an embrace from Undine, who is forced by the race of spirits thus to destroy him. The sweetness and pathos of this tale and its dream-like beauty have given it a place among those creations which appeal to all the world, and do not depend for their popularity on the tendencies of any particular age.

Chamisso (1781-1836), one of the most popular poets of Germany, was the author of "Peter Schlemihl," a well-known tale describing the adventures of a man who sold his shadow for a large sum of money, and found afterward that he had made a very bad bargain. The moral it seems to indicate is that gold is dearly obtained at the sacrifice of any part, even of the shadow, of our humanity.

Hoffmann (1776-1822) surpassed all other imaginative writers in inventing marvelous incidents, while he was inferior to many of them in poetical genius. His stories mingle the circumstances of real life with grotesque and visionary adventures.

Zschokke (1771-1847) was remarkable as a man and an author. His literary activity extended over more than half a century, and his tales and miscellaneous writings have had extensive popularity. His studies were generally directed toward human improvement, as in "The Goldmaker's Village," where he describes the progress of industry and civilization among a degraded population.

Of the other numerous writers of fiction the names of a few only can be mentioned.

Theresa Huber (1764-1829) was the authoress of several popular novels. Benedicte Naubert wrote several historical romances mentioned by Scott as having afforded him some suggestions. Caroline Pichler's "Tales" were accounted among the best fictions of her times. Henriette Hanke produced eighty-eight volumes of domestic narratives and other writings of a moral character; the Countess Hahn-Hahn follows the tendencies of Madame Dudevant (George Sand), though with less genius.

Brentano, the author of "Godiva," and Arnim, author of the "Countess Dolores," may also be mentioned among the remarkable writers of fantastic romances.

Bettina (1785-1859), the sister of Brentano, and the wife of Arnim, who resembles these authors in her imaginative character, wrote a singularly enthusiastic book, entitled, "Goethe's Correspondence with a Child." Imaginative pictures in words, interspersed with sentiments, characterize the writings of Bettina and many other romancists, while they show little power in the construction of plots and the development of character.

Among the more renowned female writers are Auguste von Paalzow, Amalie Schoppe, Johanna Schoppenhauer, Friederike Brun, Talvi (Mrs. Robinson). Henriette Herz (1764-1841) and Rahel (1771-1844) also occupied a brilliant position in the literary and social world. The latter was the wife of Varnhagen von Ense (d. 1859), the most able and attractive biographical writer of Germany. Wilhelm Häring (Wilibald Alexis) is particularly eminent as a romance writer.

The historical novelists of the early part of this century, as Van der Velde, Spindler, Rellstab, Storch, and Rau, have been succeeded by König, Heller, and several others. Good French and English novels are translated into German, almost immediately after their appearance, and the comparative scarcity of interesting German novels is accounted for by the taste for this foreign literature, and also by the increasing absorption of literary talent in the periodical press. Schucking is remarkable for his power of vividly conceiving character. Fanny Lewald is artistic in her methods and true and keen in her observation of life; and among novelists of simple village life Auerbach (1812-1883) takes the first place. Gustave Freytag (b. 1816), whose "Debit and Credit" is an intensely realistic study of commercial life, is also one of the distinguished writers of fiction.

The popular legends of Germany are numerous and characteristic of the country. These narratives are either legends of local interest, associated with old castles, or other antiquities, or they are purely fabulous. Though they are sometimes fantastic and in their incidents show little respect to the laws of probability, they are genuine and fairly represent the play of the popular imagination; while under their wild imagery they often convey symbolically a deep and true meaning,

LITERARY HISTORY AND CRITICISM.—Modern German literature is singularly rich in this department. In the Republic of Letters, German students have found the liberty they could not enjoy in actual life, and this cause has promoted investigation in ancient and modern literature. Poets, historians, philosophers, and other writers have been studied and criticised, not merely as authors, but with especial reference to their respective contributions to the progress of ideas and the movements of society. Some of the most eminent German critical writers have already been mentioned under various preceding heads. Winckelmann (1717-1768) devoted himself with enthusiasm to the study of antique sculpture, and wrote elegant dissertations on the grace and beauty of the works of ancient art. His writings display true enthusiasm and refined taste. It may be said that the school of art-criticism in Germany owes its origin to the studies of Winckelmann. The critical writings of Herder were more remarkable for the impulse which they gave to the studies of authors than for their intrinsic merits. Goethe in his prose writings showed with what grace and precision the German language might be written. The letters of Schiller are pervaded by a lofty and ideal tone. William von Humboldt (1762-1832) was the founder of the science of comparative philology, a scholar of remarkable comprehensiveness and scientific knowledge, and the author of several highly important works on language and literature. The brothers Schlegel developed that taste for universal literature which had been introduced by Herder. The mind of Augustus Schlegel (1767-1845) was rather comprehensive than endowed with original and creative genius. His poems are elegant, but not remarkable. Friedrich Schlegel (1772-1829), like his brother, was opposed to the skeptical character of some of the philosophical theories of his day, and after entering the Catholic Church he expressed his religious and polemical opinions in his works on literature. His lectures on "The Philosophy of History" were evidently written with political and religious purposes. He participated with his brother in the study of Oriental literature and language, but his lectures on "The Literature of all Nations" have chiefly extended his fame for great capacity, critical acumen, and extensive learning. The main purpose of the author is to describe the development of literature in its connection with the social and religious institutions of various nations and periods. He thus elevates literature, and especially poetry, far above the views of trivial and commonplace criticism, and regards it in its highest aspect as the product of human life and genius in various stages of cultivation. The history of the world of books is thus represented as no dry and pedantic study, but as one intimately connected with the best interests of humanity. In the establishment of this humanitarian style of literature, the services of this author were of great value, although many of his works, as well as those of others in this department, have been written rather for the use of scholars than for the public. There still remains in Germany that distinction between a popular and scholastic style which characterized the Middle Ages, when the literati excluded their thoughts from the people by writing in Latin. The literature of the past, which is in itself too diffuse to be comprehended by men of scanty leisure in modern times, is with most writers too often rather complicated and extended than simplified and compressed into a readable form. If the labors of learned historians and critics had been directed to popularize the results of their extensive scholarship, readers without much time for study might have acquired a fair general acquaintance with universal literature. But while concise and masterly summaries are required, many scholars love to wander in never-ending disquisitions, and the consequence is that the greater number of readers acquire only a fragmentary and accidental knowledge of books.

While the brothers Schlegel, and many other writers, followed the tendencies of Herder in universal literature, a national school of criticism was founded and supported by the brothers Grimm, with many able associates. Jacob, the eldest (d. 1863), devoted his researches to the German literature of the Middle Ages, and collected the scattered remnants of old popular legends. In conjunction with, his brother William (d. 1860) he published his "Children's Fables," or "Household Tales," which are marked by great simplicity, and often convey pleasing sentiments and good morals mingled with fantastic and supernatural adventures. Later works on the "German Language," "Legal Antiquities," and "German Mythology," have secured for this author the highest position among national philologists and antiquaries. The example of these brothers gave a strong impulse to the study of German archaeology, and the results have been received with great enthusiasm. Many relics of old literature have been recovered, and these remains form a considerable library of literary antiquities.

Menzel (d. 1855), well known as a critical and polemical writer of the national school, has written the "History of German Literature," "The Spirit of History," and other works, in which he has warmly opposed the extreme revolutionary tendencies of recent political and social theorists.

Gervinus (d. 1871) may be considered as a historian, politician, and critic. In his "History of the Poetical National Literature of the Germans," he traces the development of poetry in its relations to civilization and society. He has also written a work on Shakspeare, and a history of the nineteenth century, which is characterized by its liberal tendencies. His views of literature are directly opposed to those of Frederic Schlegel.

As historians of ancient classical literature, German scholars have maintained the highest position, and to them the world is prodigiously indebted. Their works, however, are too comprehensive to be described here, and too numerous even to be mentioned. The idea of classical erudition, as maintained by them, is extended far beyond its common limitation, and is connected with researches respecting not the language only, but also the religion, philosophy, social economy, arts, and sciences of ancient nations.

Karl Ottfried Müller (d. 1840) must be mentioned as an accomplished
scholar and the author of a standard work, the "History of Greek
Literature." Among the other great writers on ancient history are Böckh,
Duncker, Droysen, Mommsen, and Kortüm.

Several works on the modern literature of European nations have recently been published in Germany; and much industry and research have been displayed in numerous criticisms on the fine arts. The principles of Winckelmann and Lessing have been developed by later authors who have written excellent critical and historical works on the plastic arts, sculpture, painting, and architecture. In general, the literary criticism of Germany deserves the highest commendation for its candor, carefulness, and philosophical consistency.

HISTORY AND THEOLOGY.—The extensive historical works of the modern writers of Germany form an important feature in the literature. The political circumstances of the country have been in many respects favorable to the progress of these studies. Professors and students, excluded in a great measure from political life, have explored the histories of ancient nations, and have given opinions in the form of historical essays, which they could not venture to apply to the institutions of Germany. While Prussia and Austria were perilous topics for discussion, liberal and innovating doctrines might be promulgated in lectures on the progress and decline of liberty in the ancient world. Accordingly, the study of universal history, to which the philosophical views of Herder gave the impulse, has been industriously prosecuted during the last fifty years, and learned and diligent collectors of historical material are more numerous in Germany than in any other country.

Müller (d. 1804), a native of Switzerland, displayed true historical genius and extended erudition in his "Lectures on Universal History." Among other writers on the same subject are Rotteck, Becker, Böttiger, Dittmar, and Vehse. Of the two last authors, the one wrote on this vast subject especially in reference to Christianity, and the other describes the progress of civilization and intellectual culture.

Schlosser's (b. 1786) "History of the Ancient World and its Culture" holds a prominent place among historical works. His writings are the result of laborious and conscientious researches to which he has devoted his life.

Heeren (d. 1842) opened a new vein of ancient history in his learned work on the "Commercial Relations of Antiquity." While other historians have been attracted by the sword of the conqueror, Heeren followed the merchant's caravan laden with corn, wine, oils, silks, and spices. His work is a valuable contribution to the true history of humanity.

Carl Ritter (d. 1859) has united the studies of geography and history in his "Geography viewed in its Relations to Nature and History." This great work, the result of a life devoted to industrious research, has established the science of comparative geography.

Lepsius and Brugsch have rendered important services to Egyptology, and
Lachmann, K. O. Müller, Von der Hagen, Böckh, the brothers Grimm, Moritz
Haupt, and others, to ancient and German philology.

In Roman history, Niebuhr (1776-1831), stands alone as the founder of a new school of research, by which the fictions so long mingled with the early history of Rome, and copied from book to book, and from century to century, have been fully exploded. Through the labors of this historian, modern readers know the ancient Romans far better than they were known by nations who were in close contact with them. Niebuhr made great preparations for his work, and took care not to dissipate his powers by appearing too soon as an author.

Besides many other histories relating to the Roman Empire, German literature is especially rich in those relating to the Middle Ages. The historical writings of Ranke (b. 1795) connect the events of that period with modern times, and give valuable notices of the age of the Reformation. "The History of Papacy in the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries" is highly esteemed, though Catholic critics have objected to some of its statements. Histories of the German people, of the Hohenstauffen Dynasty, of the Crusades; histories of nations, of cities, of events, and of individuals, all have found their interpreters in German genius. Schlosser (b. 1776), the vigorous and truthful historian of the eighteenth century; Dahlmann (b. 1785) the German Guizot, and Raumer (b. 1781), the historian of the Hohenstauffens, deserve particular mention. Nor is the department of ecclesiastical history and theology less distinguished by its research.

No writer of his time contributed more towards the formation of an improved prose style than Mosbeim (1694-1755); although his "Ecclesiastical History" is now superseded by works of deeper research. His contemporary, Reimarus, wrote in favor of natural theology, and may be considered the founder of the Rationalistic School. Neander (d. 1850) wrote a history of the church, in ten volumes, distinguished for its liberal views. The sermons of Reinhard (d. 1812), in thirty-nine volumes, display earnestness and unaffected solemnity of style. Schleiermacher (d. 1834), celebrated as a preacher at Berlin, was the author of many works, in which he attempted to reconcile the doctrines of Protestantism with certain philosophical speculations. De Wette, the friend of Schleiermacher, is one of the most learned and able representatives of the Rationalistic School. Tholuck (b. 1799) is celebrated as a learned exegetical writer.

Mommsen (b. 1817) is the vigorous historian of ancient Rome, and Curtius (b. 1819), the author of a history of Greece, not more remarkable for its learning than for the clear and attractive arrangement of its material. In histories of philosophy recent German literature is absolutely supreme. Hegel still ranks as one of the greatest writers in this line, and Ueberweg, Uedmann, and others are important workers in the same department. Fischer writes the history of philosophy with sympathetic appreciation and in a fascinating style, and Lange, in his "History of Materialism," does full justice to the different phases of materialistic philosophy.

Since the time of Lessing, aesthetics have formed a prominent branch of philosophy with the Germans, and they have been no less successful as historians of art than of metaphysics. Among the most distinguished are Kugler, Carrière, and Lübke. Biographers and historians of literature are numerous.

ENGLISH LITERATURE.

INTRODUCTION.—1. English Literature. Its Divisions.—2. The Language.

PERIOD FIRST.—1. Celtic Literature. Irish, Scotch, and Cymric Celts;
the Chronicles of Ireland; Ossian's Poems; Traditions of Arthur; the
Triads; Tales.—2. Latin Literature, Bede; Alcuin; Erigena.—3. Anglo-
Saxon Literature. Poetry; Prose; Versions of Scripture: the Saxon
Chronicle; Alfred.

PERIOD SECOND.—The Norman Age and the Fourteenth and Fifteenth
Centuries.—1. Literature in the Latin Tongue.—2. Literature in
Norman-French. Poetry; Romances of Chivalry.—3. Saxon-English.
Metrical Remains.—4. Literature in the Fourteenth Century.—Prose
Writers; Occam, Duns Scotus, Wickliffe, Mandeville, Chaucer. Poetry;
Langland, Gower, Chaucer.—5. Literature in the Fifteenth Century.
Ballads.—6. Poets of the Fourteenth and Fifteenth Centuries in
Scotland. Wyntoun, Barbour, and others.

PERIOD THIRD.—1. Age of the Reformation (1509-1558), Classical,
Theological, and Miscellaneous Literature: Sir Thomas More and others.
Poetry: Skelton, Surrey, and Sackville; the Drama.—2. The Age of
Spenser, Shakspeare, Bacon, and Milton (1558-1660). Scholastic and
Ecclesiastical Literature. Translations of the Bible: Hooker, Andrews,
Donne, Hall, Taylor, Baxter: other Prose Writers: Fuller, Cudworth, Bacon,
Hobbes. Raleigh, Milton, Sidney, Selden, Burton, Browne and Cowley.
Dramatic Poetry: Marlowe and Greene, Shakspeare, Beaumont and Fletcher,
Ben Jonson, and others; Massinger, Ford, and Shirley; Decline of the
Drama. Non-dramatic Poetry: Spenser and the Minor Poets. Lyrical Poets;
Donne, Cowley, Denham, Waller, Milton.—3. The Age of the Restoration and
Revolution (1660-1702). Prose: Leighton, Tilotson, Barrow, Bunyan, Locke
and others. The Drama: Dryden, Otway. Comedy; Didactic Poetry: Roscommon,
Marvell, Butler, Pryor, Dryden.—4. The Eighteenth Century. The First
Generation (1702-1727): Pope, Swift, and others; the Periodical Essayists:
Addison, Steele. The Second Generation (1727-1760); Theology; Warburton,
Butler, Watts, Doddridge. Philosophy: Hume. Miscellaneous Prose: Johnson;
the Novelists: Richardson, Fielding, Smollett and Sterne. The Drama; Non-
dramatic Poetry: Young, Blair, Akenside, Thomson, Gray, and Collins. The
Third Generation (1780-1800); the Historians: Hume, Robertson, and
Gibbon. Miscellaneous Prose: Johnson, Goldsmith, "Junius," Pitt, Fox,
Sheridan, and Burke. Criticism: Burke, Reynolds, Campbell, Kames.
Political Economy: Adam Smith. Ethics: Paley, Smith, Tucker, Metaphysics:
Reid. Theological and Religious Writers: Campbell, Paley, Watson, Newton,
Hannah More, and Wilberforce. Poetry: Comedies of Goldsmith and Sheridan;
Minor Poets; Later Poems; Beattie's Minstrel; Cowper and Burns. 5. The
Nineteenth Century. The Poets: Campbell, Southey, Scott, Byron; Coleridge
and Wordsworth; Wilson, Shelley, Keats; Crabbe, Moore, and others;
Tennyson, Browning, Proctor, and others. Fiction: the Waverley and other
Novels; Dickens, Thackeray, and others. History: Arnold, Thirlwall, Grote,
Macaulay, Alison, Carlyle, Freeman, Buckle. Criticism: Hallam, De Quincey,
Macaulay, Carlyle, Wilson, Lamb, and others. Theology: Foster, Hall,
Chalmers. Philosophy: Stewart, Brown, Mackintosh, Bentham, Alison, and
others. Political Economy: Mill, Whewell, Whately, De Morgan, Hamilton.
Periodical Writings: the Edinburgh, Quarterly, and Westminster Reviews,
and Blackwood's Magazine. Physical Science: Brewster, Herschel, Playfair,
Miller, Buckland, Whewell.—Since 1860. 1. Poets: Matthew Arnold, Algernon
Swinburne, Dante Rossetti, Robert Buchanan, Edwin Arnold, "Owen Meredith,"
William Morris, Jean Ingelow, Adelaide Procter, Christina Rossetti,
Augusta Webster, Mary Robinson, and others. 2. Fiction: "George Eliot,"
MacDonald, Collins, Black, Blackmore, Mrs. Oliphant, Yates, McCarthy,
Trollope, and others. 3. Scientific Writers: Herbert Spencer, Charles
Darwin, Tyndall, Huxley, and others. 4. Miscellaneous.

INTRODUCTION.

1. ENGLISH LITERATURE AND ITS DIVISIONS.—The original inhabitants of England, belonging to the great race of Celts, were not the true founders of the English nation; and their language, which is still spoken unchanged in various parts of the kingdom, has exerted but an incredibly small influence on the English tongue. During the period of the Roman domination (55 B.C.-447 A.D.), the relations between the conquerors and the natives did not materially alter the nationality of the people, nor did the Latin language permanently displace or modify the native tongue.

The great event of the Dark Ages which succeeded the fall of the Roman empire was the vast series of emigrations which planted tribes of Gothic blood over large tracts of Europe, and which was followed by the formation of all the modern European languages, and by the general profession of Christianity. The Anglo-Saxon invaders of England continued to emigrate from the Continent for more than a hundred years, and before many generations had passed away, their language, customs, and character prevailed throughout the provinces they had seized. During the six hundred years of their independence (448-1066), the nation made wonderful progress in the arts of life and thought. The Pagans accepted the Christian faith; the piratical sea-kings applied themselves to the tillage of the soil and the practice of some of the ruder manufactures; the fierce soldiers constructed, out of the materials of legislation common to the whole Teutonic race, a manly political constitution.

The few extant literary monuments of the Anglo-Saxons possess a singular value as illustrations of the character of the people, and have the additional attraction of being written in what was really our mother tongue.

In the Middle Ages (from the eleventh to the sixteenth centuries), the painful convulsions of infant society gave way to the growing vigor of healthy though undisciplined youth. All the relations of life were modified, more or less, by the two influences predominant in the early part of the period, but decaying in the latter,—Feudalism and the Church of Rome,—and by the consolidation of the new languages, which were successively developed in all European countries, and were soon qualified as instruments for communicating the results of intellectual activity. The Middle Ages closed by two events occurring nearly at the same time: the erection of the great monarchies on the ruins of feudalism, and the shattering of the sovereignty of the Romish Church by the Reformation. At the same period, the invention of printing, the most important event in the annals of literature, became available as a means of enlightenment.

The Norman conquest of England (1066) subjected the nation at once to both of the ruling mediaeval impulses: feudalism, which metamorphosed the relative positions of the people and the nobles, and the recognition of papal supremacy, which altered not less thoroughly the standing of the church. While these changes were not unproductive of good at that time, they were distasteful to the nation, and soon became injurious, both to freedom and knowledge, until at length, under the dynasty of the Tudors, the ecclesiastical shackles were cast off, and the feudal bonds began gradually to be loosened.

The Norman invaders of England took possession of the country as military masters. They suppressed the native polity by overwhelming force, made Norman-French the fashionable speech of the court and the aristocracy, and imposed it on the tribunals. Their romantic literature soon weaned the hearts of educated men from the ancient rudeness of taste, but the mass of the English people clung so obstinately to their ancestral tongue, that the Anglo-Saxon language kept its hold in substance until it was evolved into modern English; and the Norman nobles were at length forced to learn the dialect which had been preserved among their despised English vassals.

Emerging from the Middle Ages into the illuminated vista of modern history, we find the world of action much more powerfully influenced by the world of letters than ever before. Among the causes which produced this change are the invention of printing, the use of a cultivated living language, and in England the vindication of freedom of thought and constitutional liberty.

The period from the accession of Elizabeth to the Restoration (1558-1660) is the most brilliant in the literary history of England. The literature assumes its most varied forms, expatiates over the most distant regions of speculation and investigation; and its intellectual chiefs, while they breathe the spirit of modern knowledge and freedom, speak to us in tones which borrow an irregular stateliness from the chivalrous past. But this magnificent panorama does not meet the eye at once; the unveiling of its features is as gradual as the passing away of the mists that shroud the landscape before the morning sun.

The first quarter of the century was unproductive in all departments of literature. Of the great writers who have immortalized the name of Elizabeth, scarcely one was born five years before she ascended the throne, and the immense and invaluable series of literary works which embellished the period in question may be regarded as beginning only with the earliest poem of Spenser, 1579.

"There never was anywhere," says Lord Jeffrey, "anything like the sixty or seventy years that elapsed from the middle of the reign of Elizabeth to the Restoration. In point of real force and originality of genius, neither the age of Pericles nor the age of Augustus, nor the times of Leo X., or of Louis XIV., can come at all into comparison. In that short period we shall find the names of almost all the very great men that this nation has ever produced."

Among the influences which made the last generation of the sixteenth century so strong in itself, and capable of bequeathing so much strength to those who took up its inheritance, was the expanding elasticity, the growing freedom of thought and action. The chivalry of the Middle Ages began to seek more useful fields of adventure in search of new worlds, and fame, and gold. There was an increasing national prosperity, and a corresponding advance of comfort and refinement, and mightier than all these forces was the silent working of the Reformation on the hearts of the people.

The minor writers of this age deserve great honor, and may almost be considered the builders of the structure of English literature, whose intellectual chiefs were Spenser, Shakspeare, and Hooker.

Spenser and Shakspeare were both possessed of thoughts, feelings, and images, which they could not have had if they had lived a century later, or much earlier; and, although their views were very dissimilar, they both bear the characteristic features of the age in which they lived. Spenser dwelt with animation on the gorgeous scenery which covered the elfin land of knighthood and romance, and present realities were lost in his dream of antique grandeur and ideal loveliness. He was the modern poet of the remote past; the last minstrel of chivalry, though incomparably greater than his forerunners.

Shakspeare was the poet of the present and the future, and of universal humanity. He saw in the past the fallen fragments on which men were to build anew—august scenes of desolation, whose ruin taught men to work more wisely. He painted them as the accessory features and distant landscape of colossal pictures, in whose foreground stood figures soaring beyond the limits of their place, instinct with the spirit of the time in which the poet lived, yet lifted out of it and above it by the impulse of potent genius prescient of momentous truths that lay slumbering in the bosom of futurity.

By the side of poetry contemporary prose shows poorly, with one great exception. In respect to style, Hooker stands almost alone in his time, and may be considered the first of the illustrious train of great prose writers. His "Ecclesiastical Polity" appeared in 1594. Sir Philip Sidney's "Arcadia" had been written before 1587. Bacon's Essays appeared in 1596, and also Spenser's "View of Ireland," But none of these are comparable in point of style to Hooker.

The reign of Elizabeth gave the key-note to the literature of the two succeeding reigns, that of James I. (1603-1625), and Charles (1625-1649), and the literary works of this period were not only more numerous, but stand higher in the mass than those which closed the sixteenth century. But Spenser remained un-imitated and Shakspeare was inimitable; the drama, however, which in this as in the last generation monopolized the best minds, received new developments, poetry was enriched beyond precedent, and prose writing blossomed into a harvest of unexampled eloquence. But although, under the rule of James, learning did good service in theology and the classics, English writing began to be infected with pedantic affectations. The chivalrous temper of the preceding age was on the wane, coarseness began to pass into licentiousness, and moral degeneracy began to diffuse its poison widely over the lighter kinds of literature. Bacon, the great pilot of modern science, gave to the world the rudiments of his philosophy. Bishop Hall exemplified not only the eloquence and talent of the clergy, but the beginning of that resistance to the tendencies by which the church was to be soon overthrown. The drama was headed by Ben Jonson, honorably severe in morals, and by Beaumont and Fletcher, who heralded the licentiousness which soon corrupted the art generally, while the poet Donne introduced fantastic eccentricities into poetical composition.

Some of the most eloquent prose writings of the English language had their birth amidst the convulsions of the Civil War, or in the strangely perplexed age of the Commonwealth and protectorate (1649-1660), that stern era which moulded the mind of one poet gifted with extraordinary genius. Although Milton would not, in all likelihood, have conceived the "Paradise Lost" had he not felt and acted with the Puritans, yet it would have been less the consummate work of art which it is, had he not fed his fancy with the courtly pomp of the last days of the monarchy.

The prose writers of this time are represented by Bishop Hall and Jeremy Taylor, among the clergy, and Selden and Camden among the laymen. The roughness of speech and manners of Elizabeth's time, followed, in the next reign, by a real coarseness and lowness of sentiment, grew rapidly worse under Charles, whose reign was especially prolific in poetry, the tone of which varied from grave to gay, from devotion to licentiousness, from severe solemnity to indecent levity; but no great poet appeared in the crowd. The drama was still rich in genius, its most distinguished names being those of Ford, Massinger, and Shirley; but here depravity had taken a deeper root than elsewhere, and it was a blessing that, soon after the breaking out of the war, the theatres were closed, and the poets left to idleness or repentance.

The Commonwealth and Protectorate, extending over eleven years (1649- 1660), made an epoch in literature, as well as in the state and church. The old English drama was extinct, and poetry had few votaries. Cowley now closed with great brilliancy the eccentric and artificial school of which Donne had been the founder, and Milton was undergoing the last steps of that mental discipline that was to qualify him for standing forth the last and all but the greatest of the poetical ancients. At the same time, the approach of a modern era was indicated by the frivolity of sentiment and ease of versification which prevailed in the poems of Waller.

In philosophy, Hobbes now uttered his defiance to constitutional freedom and ecclesiastical independence; Henry More expounded his platonic dreams in the cloisters of Cambridge; and Cudworth vindicated the belief in the being of the Almighty and in the foundations of moral distinctions. The Puritans, the ruling power in the state, became also a power in literature, nobly represented by Richard Baxter. Milton, like many of his remarkable contemporaries, lived into the succeeding generation, and he may be accepted as the last representative of the eloquence of English prose in that brilliant stage of its history which terminated about the date of the Restoration.

The aspect of the last forty years of the seventeenth century—the age of the Restoration and the Revolution—is far from being encouraging, and some features marking many of their literary works are positively revolting. Of the social evils of the time, none infected literature so deeply as the depravation of morals, into which the court and aristocracy plunged, and many of the people followed. The drama sunk to a frightful grossness, and the tone of all other poetry was lowered. The reinstated courtiers imported a mania for foreign models, especially French, literary works were anxiously moulded on the tastes of Paris, and this prevalence of exotic predilections lasted for more than a century. But amidst these and other weaknesses and blots there was not wanting either strength or brightness.

The literary career of Dryden covers the whole of this period and marks a change which contained many improvements. Locke was the leader of philosophical speculation; and mathematical and physical science had its distinguished votaries, headed by Sir Isaac Newton, whose illustrious name alone would have made the age immortal.

The Nonconformists, forbidden to speak, wrote and printed. A younger generation was growing up among them, and some of the elder race still survived, such as Baxter, Owen, and Calamy. But greatest of all, and only now reaching the climax of his strength, was Milton, in his neglected old age consoling himself for the disappointments which had darkened a weary life, by consecrating its waning years, with redoubled ardor of devotion, to religion, to truth, and to the service of a remote posterity.

In England, as elsewhere in Europe, the temper of the eighteenth century was cold, dissatisfied, and hypercritical. Old principles were called in question, and the literary man, the statesman, the philosopher, and the theologian found their tasks to be mainly those of attack or defence. The opinions of the nation and the sentiments which they prompted were neither speculative nor heroic, and they received adequate literary expression in a philosophy which acknowledged no higher motive than utility,—in a kind of poetry which found its field in didactic discussion, and sunk in narrative into the coarse and domestic. In all departments of literature, the form had come to be more regarded than the matter; and melody of rhythm, elegance of phrase, and symmetry of parts were held to be higher excellences than rich fancy or fervid emotion. Such an age could not give birth to a literature possessing the loftiest and most striking qualities of poetry or of eloquence; but it increased the knowledge previously possessed by mankind, swept away many wrong opinions, produced many literary works, excellent in thought and expression, and exercised on the English language an influence partly for good and partly for evil, which is shown in every sentence which we now speak or write.

The First Generation is named from Queen Anne (1702-1714), but it includes also the reign of her successor. Our notion of its literary character is derived from the poetry of Pope and the prose of Addison and his friends. In its own region, which, though not low, is yet far from the highest, the lighter and more popular literature of Queen Anne's time is valuable; its lessons were full of good sense and correct taste, and as literary artists, the writers of this age attained an excellence as eminent as can be attained by art not inspired by the enthusiasm of genius nor employed on majestic themes. In its moral tone, the early part of the eighteenth century was much better than that of the age before it.

The Second Generation of the century may be reckoned as contained in the reign of George II. (1727-1760). It was more remarkable than the preceding for vigor of thinking and often for genuine poetic fancy and susceptibility, though inferior in the skill and details of literary composition. Samuel Johnson produced his principal works before the close of this period. Among the novelists, Richardson alone had anything in common with him. Fielding, Smollett, and Sterne are equally distant from the dignified pomp of his manner and the ascetic elevation of his morality. In contrast to the looseness of the novels and the skepticism of Hume, the reasoning of Butler was employed in defense of sacred truth, and the stern dissent of Whitefield and Wesley was entered against religious deadness. Poetry began to stir with new life; a noble ambition animated Young and Akenside, and in Thomson, Gray, and Collins a finer poetic sense was perceptible.

The Third Generation of the eighteenth century, beginning with the accession of George III. (1760), was by no means so fertile in literary genius as either of the other two. But the earliest of its remarkable writers, Hume, Robertson, and Gibbon, produced works which have rarely been exceeded as literary compositions of their class. In ethics, there were Paley and Adam Smith; in psychology and metaphysics, Reid and the founders of the Scottish school; and in the list of poets who adorned these forty years were Goldsmith, Cowper, and Burns.

The nineteenth century, for us naturally more interesting than any other period of English literature, is, in its intellectual character, peculiarly difficult of analysis, from its variety and novelty. For the reason that we have been moulded on its lessons, we are not favorably placed for comprehending it profoundly, or for impartially estimating the value of the monuments it has produced.

It has been a time of extraordinary mental activity more widely diffused than ever before throughout the nation at large. While books have been multiplied beyond precedent, readers have increased in a yet greater proportion, and the diffusion of enlightenment has been aimed at as zealously as the discovery of new truths. While no other time has exhibited so surprising a variety in the kinds of literature, none has been so distinguished for the prevalence of enlightened and philanthropic sentiment.

In point of literary merit, the half century presents two successive and dissimilar stages, of which the first or opening epoch of the century, embraced in its first thirty years, was by far the most brilliant. The animation and energy which characterized it arose from the universal excitation of feeling and the mighty collision of opinions which broke out over all Europe with the first French Revolution, and the fierce struggle so long maintained almost single-handed by England against Napoleon I. The strength of that age was greatest in poetry, but it gave birth to much valuable speculation and eloquent writing. The poetical literature of that time has no parallel in English literature, unless in the age of Shakspeare.

A marked feature in the English poetry of the nineteenth century is the want of skill in execution. Most of the poets not only neglect polishing in diction but also in symmetry of plan, and this fault is common to the most reflective as well as the most passionate of them. Byron, in his tales and sketches, is not more deficient in skill as an artist than Wordsworth in his "Excursion," the huge fragment of an unfathomable design, cherished throughout a long and thoughtful lifetime.

Another feature is this, that the poems which made the strongest impression were of the narrative kind. That and the drama may be said to be the only forms of representation adequate to embody the spirit or to interest the sympathies of an age and nation immersed in the turmoil of energetic action.

Among the prose writings of this period, two kinds of composition employed a larger fund of literary genius than any other, and exercised a wider influence; these were the novels and romances, and the reviews and other periodicals. Novel-writing acquired an unusually high rank in the world of letters, through its greatest master, and was remarkable for the high character imprinted on it. By Scott and two or three precursors and some not unworthy successors, the novel was made for us nearly all that the drama in its palmy days had been for our fore-fathers, imbibing as much of its poetic spirit as its form and purpose allowed, thoughtful in its views of life, and presenting pictures faithful to nature.

In the beginning of the present century was founded the dynasty of the reviews, which now began to be chosen as the vehicles of the best prose writing and the most energetic thinking that the nation could command. Masses of valuable knowledge have been laid up, and streams of eloquence have been poured out in the periodicals of our century by authors who have often left their names to be guessed at. But the best writers have not always escaped the dangers of this form of writing, which is unfavorable to completeness and depth of knowledge, and strongly tempting to exaggeration of style and sentiment. This evil has worked on the ranks of inferior contributors with a force which has seriously injured the purity of the public taste. The strong points of periodical writers are their criticism of literary works and their speculation in social and political philosophy, which have nowhere been handled so skillfully as in the Reviews. After poetry, they are the most valuable departments in the literature of the first age.

Since the Anglo-Saxon period, English literature has derived much of its materials and inspiration from the teaching of other countries. In the Middle Ages, France furnished the models of chivalrous poetry and much of the social system; the Augustan age of French letters, the reign of Louis XIV., ruled the literary taste of England from the Restoration to the middle of the eighteenth century; and from Germany, more than from any other foreign nation, have come the influences by which the intellect of Great Britain has been affected, especially during the last thirty years. Within this time, the study and translation of German literature have become fashionable pursuits, and on the whole, highly beneficial. The philology of Germany and its profound poetical criticism have taught much: the philosophical tendency of German theology has engaged the attention of teachers of religion, and had its effect both for good and evil, and the accurate study of the highest branches of German philosophy has tended decidedly to elevate the standard of abstract speculation.

The most hopeful symptom of English literature in the last thirty years is to be found in the zeal and success with which its teachings have been extended beyond the accustomed limits. Knowledge has been diffused with a zeal and rapidity never before dreamed of, and the spirit which prompted it has been worthily embodied in the enlarged and enlightened temper with which it has been communicated. In the midst of much error, there are many features prominent which presage the birth of a love of mankind more expansive and generous than any that has ever yet pervaded society.

The present age possesses no poetry comparable to that of the preceding, and few men who unite remarkable eloquence with power of thought. Among the thinkers, there is greater activity of speculation in regard to questions affecting the nature and destiny of man; and problems have been boldly propounded, but the solutions have not been found, and amidst much doubt and dimness, the present generation seems to be struggling toward a new organization of social and intellectual life.

The literature of England may be divided into three periods: the first, extending from the departure of the Romans to the Norman Conquest (448- 1066), comprises the literature in the Celtic, Latin, and Anglo-Saxon tongues.

The second period, extending from the Norman Conquest to the accession of Henry VIII. (1066-1509), contains the literature of the Norman period from 1066 to 1307, in the Latin, Norman-French, and Anglo-Saxon tongues, the transition of the Anglo-Saxon into English, and the literature of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries.

The third period, extending from 1509 to 1884, includes the literature of the age of the Reformation, that of the age of Spenser, Shakspeare, Bacon, and Milton, of the Restoration and Revolution, and of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.

2. THE LANGUAGE.—The English language is directly descended from the Anglo-Saxon, but derives much from the Norman-French, and from the Latin. Although the Celtic in its branches of Cymric and Gaelic still continues to be the speech of a portion of the inhabitants of Great Britain, it has never exercised any influence on the language of the nation.

The origin of the Anglo-Saxon tongue is involved in obscurity. It most nearly resembles the Frisic, a Low German dialect once spoken between the Rhine and the Elbe, and which is the parent of modern Dutch.

Before the battle of Hastings, the Anglo-Saxon tongue had been spoken in England for at least six hundred years, during which time it must have undergone many changes and dialectic variations. On the subjugation of the conflicting states by the kings of Wessex, the language of the West Saxons came to be the ruling one, and its use was extended and confirmed by the example of Alfred, himself a native of Berks. But it does not necessarily follow that this dialect is the parent of the English language. We must look for the probable ground-work of this in the gradual coalescence of the leading dialects.

The changes by which the Anglo-Saxon passed into the modern English assumed in succession two distinct types, marking two eras quite dissimilar. First came the Semi-Saxon, or transition period, throughout which the old language was suffering disorganization and decay, a period of confusion, perplexing alike to those who then used the tongue, and to those who now endeavor to trace its vicissitudes. This chaotic state came to an end about the middle of the thirteenth century, after a duration of nearly two hundred years. The second era, or period of reconstruction, follows, during which the language may be described as English.

A late critic divides the Old English Period, extending from 1250 to 1500, into the Early English (1250-1330) and the Middle English (1330-1500). The latter was used by Chaucer and Wickliffe, and is in all essentials so like the modern tongue, except in the spelling, that a tolerable English scholar may easily understand it. A great change was effected in the vocabulary by the introduction and naturalization of words from the French. The poems of Chaucer and Gower are studded with them, and the style of these favorite writers exercised a commanding influence ever after.

The grammar of the English language, in all points of importance, is a simplification of the grammar of the Anglo-Saxon. In considering the sources of the English vocabulary, we find that from the Anglo-Saxon are derived first, almost all those words which import relations; secondly, not only all the adjectives, but all the other words, nouns, and verbs which grammarians call irregular; thirdly, the Saxon gives us in most instances our only names, and in all instances those which suggest themselves most readily for the objects perceived through the senses; fourthly, all words, with a few exceptions, whose signification is specific, are Anglo-Saxon. For instance, we use a foreign, naturalized term when we speak of color, or motion, in general, but the Saxon in speaking of the particular color or motion, and the style of a writer becomes animated and suggestive in proportion to the frequency with which he uses these specific terms; fifthly, it furnishes a rich fund of expressions for the feelings and affections, for the persons who are the earliest and most natural objects of our attachment, and for those inanimate things whose names are figuratively significant of domestic union; sixthly, the Anglo-Saxon is, for the most part, the language of business; of the counting-house, the shop, the street, the market, the farm. Among an eminently practical people it is eminently the organ of practical action, and it retains this prerogative in defiance alike of the necessary innovations caused by scientific discovery and of the corruptions of ignorance and affectation. Seventhly, a very large proportion of the language of invective, humor, satire, and colloquial pleasantry is Anglo-Saxon. In short, the Teutonic elements of our vocabulary are equally valuable in enabling us to speak and write perspicuously and with animation; and besides dictating the laws which connect our words, and furnishing the cement which binds them together, they yield all our aptest means of describing imagination, feeling, and the every-day facts of life.

From the Latin the English has borrowed more or less for two thousand years, and freely for more than six centuries; but from the time of the Conquest it is difficult to distinguish words of Latin origin from those of French. The Latinisms of the language have arisen chiefly in three epochs. The first was the thirteenth century, which followed an age devoted to classical studies, and its theological writers and poets coined freely in the Roman mint. The second was the Elizabethan age, when, in the enthusiasm of a new revival of admiration for antiquity, the privilege of naturalization was used to an extent which threatened serious danger to the purity and ease of speech. In the third epoch, the latter part of the eighteenth century, Johnson was the dictator of form and style, and the pompous rotundity that then prevailed has been permanently injurious, although our Latin words, on the whole, have done much more good than harm.

The introduction of French words began with the Conquest, when the political condition of the country made it imperative that many words should be understood. The second stage began about a century later, when the few native Englishmen who loved letters entered on the study of French poetry. The third era of English Gallicisms opened in the fourteenth century, when the French tastes of the nobles, and the zeal with which Chaucer and other men of letters studied the poetry of France, greatly contributed to introduce that tide of French diction which flowed on to the close of the Middle Ages. By that time the new words were so numerous and so strongly ingrafted on the native stock that all subsequent additions are unimportant. The dictionaries of modern English are said to contain about 38,000 words, of which about 23,000 or five eighths of the whole number, come from the Anglo-Saxon.

The English language, by its remarkable combination of strength, precision, and copiousness, is worthy of being, as it already is, spoken by many millions, and these the part of the human race that appear likely to control, more than any others, the future destinies of the world.

PERIOD FIRST.

FROM THE DEPARTURE OF THE ROMANS TO THE NORMAN CONQUEST (448-1066).

1. CELTIC LITERATURE.—During this period four languages were used for literary communication in the British Islands; two Celtic tongues spoken by nations of that race, who still occupied large portions of the country; Latin, as elsewhere the organ of the church and of learning; and Anglo- Saxon. The first of the Celtic tongues, the Erse or Gaelic, was common only to the Celts of Ireland and Scotland, where it is still spoken. The second, that of the Cymrians or ancient Britons, has been preserved by the Welsh.

The literary remains of this period in Ireland consist of bardic songs and historical legends, some of which are asserted to be older than the ninth century, the date of the legendary collection called the "Psalter of Cashel," which still survives. There exist, also, valuable prose chronicles which are believed to contain the substance of others of a very early date, and which furnish an authentic contemporary history of the country in the language of the people from the fifth century. No other modern nation of Europe is able to make a similar boast.

All the earliest relics of the Scotch Celts are metrical. The poems which bear the name of Ossian are professedly celebrations by an eye-witness of events which occurred in the third century. They were first presented to the world in 1762 by Macpherson, a Scotch poet, and represented by him to be translations from the ancient Gaelic poetry handed down by tradition through so many centuries and still found among the Highlands. The question of their authenticity excited a fierce literary controversy which still remains unsettled. By some recent English and German critics, however, Ossian's poems are considered genuine. The existence of bards among the Celtic nations is well established, and their songs were preserved with pride. The name of Ossian is mentioned by Giraldus Cambrensis in the twelfth century, and that of Fingal, the hero of the legends, was so popular that in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries many bishops complained that their people were more familiar with Fingal than with the catechism. The Gaelic original of Ossian was published in 1807.

The literature of the Cymric Celts is particularly interesting, as affording those fragments of British poetry and history from which the magnificent legends were built up to immortalize King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table. In the bardic songs and elsewhere, frequent allusion is made to this heroic prince, who with his warriors resisted the Saxon enemies of his country, and who, we are told, died by domestic treason, the flower of the British nobles perishing with him. His deeds were magnified among the Welsh Britons, and among those who sought refuge on the banks of the Loire. The chroniclers wove these traditions into a legendary history of Britain. From this compilation Geoffrey of Monmouth, in the twelfth century, constructed a Latin historical work; and the poets of chivalry, allured by the beauty and pathos of the tale, made it for ages the centre of the most animated pictures of romance.

Many ancient Welsh writings are extant which treat of a wonderful variety of topics, both in prose and verse. The singular pieces called the Triads show a marked character of primitive antiquity. They are collections of historical facts, mythological doctrines, maxims, traditions, and rules for the structure of verse, expressed with extreme brevity, and disposed in groups of three. Among the Welsh metrical remains, some are plausibly assigned to celebrated bards of the sixth century. There is also a considerable stock of old Welsh romances, the most remarkable of which are contained in a series called the "Mabinogi," or Tales of Youth, many of which have been translated into English. Some of these stories are very similar to the older Norse Sagas, and must have sprung from traditions of a very rude and early generation.

2. LATIN LITERATURE.—The Latin learning of the Dark Ages formed a point of contact between instructed men of all countries. At first it was necessarily adopted,—the native tongues being in their infancy; and it was afterwards so tenaciously adhered to, that the Latin literature of the Middle Ages far exceeds in amount all other. Its cultivation in England arose out of the introduction of Christianity, and its most valued uses related to the church.

Almost all who cultivated Latin learning were ecclesiastics, and by far the larger number of those who became eminent in it were natives of Ireland. Amidst the convulsions which followed the fall of the Roman empire, Ireland was a place of rest and safety to fugitives from England and the Continent, and it contained for some centuries a larger amount of learning than could have been collected in all Europe.

With the introduction of the Christian faith each nation became a member of the ecclesiastical community, and maintained its connection with other nations and with Rome as the common centre; thus communication between different countries received a new impulse. The churches and schools of England received many distinguished foreigners, and many of the native churchmen lived abroad. Of the three scholars who held the highest place in the literature of this period—Bede (d. 735), Alcuin (d. 804), and Erigena (d. 884), (celebrated for his original views in philosophy)—the two last gave the benefit of their talents to France. The writings of the Venerable Bede, as he is called, exhibit an extent of classical scholarship surprising for his time, and his "Ecclesiastical History of England" is to this day a leading authority not only for church annals, but for all public events that occurred in the earlier part of the Saxon period.

3. LITERATURE IN THE ANGLO-SAXON TONGUE.—The remains of Anglo-Saxon literature, both in prose and verse, differ essentially from the specimens of a similar age which come down to us from other nations. The ancestral legends, which were at once the poetry and history of their contemporaries, the Anglo-Saxons entirely neglected; they even avoided the choice of national themes for their poetry, which consisted of ethical reflections and religious doctrines or narratives. They eschewed all expression of impassioned fancy, and embodied in rough but lucid phrases practical information and every-day shrewdness.

Among the Anglo-Saxon metrical monuments three historical poems are still preserved, which embody recollections of the Continent, and must have been composed long before the emigrations to England; of these the most important is the tale of "Beowulf," consisting of six thousand lines, which is essentially a Norse Saga.

After the introduction of Christianity there appeared many hymns, metrical lives of the saints, and religious and reflective poems. The most remarkable relics of this period are the works attributed to Caedmon (d. 680), whose narrative poems on scriptural events are inspired by a noble tone of solemn imagination.

The melody of the Saxon verse was regulated by syllabic accent or emphasis, and not by quantity, like the classical metres. Alliteration, or the use of several syllables in the same stanza beginning with the same letter, takes the place of rhyme. The alliterative metres and the strained and figurative diction common to the Anglo-Saxon poets was common to the Northmen, and seems to have been derived from them.

Anglo-Saxon prose was remarkable for its straightforward and perspicuous simplicity, and, especially after the time of Alfred, it had a marked preference over the Latin. Translations were early made from the Latin, particularly versions of parts of the Scriptures, which come next, in point of date, to the Moeso-Gothic translation of Ulphilas, and preceded by several generations all similar attempts in any of the new languages of Europe.

The most important monument of Saxon prose literature is the series of historical records arranged together under the name of "The Saxon Chronicle," which is made up from records kept in the monasteries, probably from the time of Alfred, and brought down to the year 1154.

The illustrious name of Alfred (849-900) closes the record of Anglo-Saxon literature. From him went forth a spirit of moral strength and a thirst for enlightenment which worked marvels among an ignorant and half- barbarous people. Besides his translations from the Scriptures, he made selections from St. Augustine, Bede, and other writers; he translated "The Consolations of Philosophy," by Boethius, and he incorporates his own reflections with all these authors. It is impossible, at this time, to estimate justly the labors of Alfred, since the obstacles which in his time impeded the acquisition of knowledge cannot even now be conceived. "I have wished to live worthily," said he, "while I lived, and after my life, to leave to the men who should come after me, my remembrance in good works."

PERIOD SECOND.

FROM THE NORMAN CONQUEST TO THE ACCESSION OF HENRY VIII. (1066-1509).

1. LITERATURE IN THE LATIN TONGUE.—The Norman Conquest introduced into England a foreign race of kings and barons, with their military vassals, and churchmen, who followed the conqueror and his successors. The generation succeeding the Conquest gave birth to little that was remarkable, but the twelfth century was particularly distinguished for its classical scholarship, and Norman-French poetry began to find English imitators.

The thirteenth century was a decisive epoch in the constitutional as well as in the intellectual history of England. The Great Charter was extorted from John; the representation of the commons from his successors; the universities were founded or organized; the romantic poetry of France began to be transfused into a language intelligible throughout England; and above all, the Anglo-Saxon tongue was in this century finally transformed into English. Three of the Crusades had already taken place; the other four fell within the next century; and these wars diffused knowledge, and kindled a flame of zeal and devotion to the church.

The only names which adorned the annals of erudition in England in the latter half of the eleventh century were those of two Lombard priests— Lanfranc (d. 1089) and Anselm (d. 1109). They prepared the means for diffusing classical learning among the ecclesiastics, and both acquired high celebrity as theological writers. Their influence was visible on the two most learned men whom the country produced in the next century—John of Salisbury (d. 1181). befriended by Thomas à Becket, and Peter of Blois, the king's secretary, and an active statesman.

In the thirteenth century, when the teachings of Abelard and Rosellinus had made philosophy the favorite pursuit of the scholars of Europe, England possessed many names which, in this field, stood higher than any others—among them Alexander de Hales, called "the Irrefragable Doctor," and Johannes Duns Scotus, one of the most acute of thinkers. In the same age, while Scotland sent Michael Scott into Germany, where he prosecuted his studies with a success that earned for him the fame of a sorcerer, a similar character was acquired by Roger Bacon (d. 1292), a Franciscan friar, who made many curious conjectures on the possibility of discoveries which have since been made.

Very few of the historical works of this period possess any merit, except as curious records of fact. Chronicles were kept in the various monasteries, which furnish a series extending through the greater part of the Middle Ages. Among these historians are William of Malmesbury, who belonged properly to the twelfth century; Geoffrey of Monmouth, who preserved for us the stories of Arthur, of Lear, and Cymbeline; Gerald de Barri, or Giraldus Cambrensis; Matthew Paris, a Benedictine monk, of St. Albans; Henry of Huntingdon; Gervase of Tilbury; and Roger de Hoveden.

The spirit of resistance to secular and ecclesiastical tyranny, which now began to show itself among the English people, found also a medium of expression in the Latin tongue. The most biting satires against the church, and the most lively political pasquinades, were thus expressed, and written almost always by churchmen. To give these satires a wider circulation, the Norman-French came to be frequently used, but at the close of the period the English dialect was almost the only organ of this satirical minstrelsy.

The Latin tongue also became the means of preserving and transmitting an immense stock of tales, by which the later poetry of Europe profited largely. One of these legends, narrated by Gervase of Tilbury, suggested to Scott the combat of Marmion with the spectre knight.

A series of fictions called the "Gesta Romanorum" attained great celebrity. It is composed of fables, traditions, and familiar pictures of society, varying with the different countries it passed through. The romance of Apollonius, in the Gesta, furnished the plot of two or three of Chaucer's tales, and of Gower's most celebrated poem, which again gave the ground-work of Pericles, Prince of Tyre. The Merchant of Venice, the Three Black Crows, and Parnell's Hermit, are indebted also to the Gesta Romanorum.

4. LITERATURE IN NORMAN-FRENCH.—From the preference of the Norman kings of England for the poets of their own country, the distinguished literary names of the first two centuries after the Conquest are those of Norman poets. One of the chief of these is Wace (fl. 1160), who composed in French his "Brut d'Angleterre" (Brutus of England), the mythical son of Aeneas and founder of Britain. The Britons settled in Cornwall, Wales, and Bretagne had long been distinguished for their traditionary legends, which were at length collected by Geoffrey of Monmouth (fl. 1138), and gravely related by him in Latin as serious history. This production, composed of incredible stories, furnished the ground-work for Wace's poem, and proved an unfailing resource for writers of romantic narration for two centuries; at a later period Shakspeare drew from it the story of Lear; Sackville that of Ferrex and Porrex; Drayton reproduced it in his Poly-Olbion, and Milton and other poets frequently draw allusions from it. The Romances of chivalry, drawn from the same source, were composed for the English court and nobles, and the translation of them was the most frequent use to which the infant English was applied. They imprinted on English poetry characteristics which it did not lose for centuries, if it can be said to have lost them at all.

A poetess known as Marie of France made copious use of British materials, and addressed herself to a king, supposed to have been Henry VI. Her twelve lays, which celebrate the marvels of the Round Table, are among the most beautiful relics of the Middle Ages, and were freely used by Chaucer and other English poets.

The romances are, many of them, in parts at least, delightfully imaginative, spirited, or pathetic, and their history is important as illustrating mediaeval manners and customs, and for their connection with early English literature. Among the oldest of these romances is "Havelok," relating to the early Norse settlement in England, the "Gest of King Horn," and "Guy of Warwick."

But of all the French romances, the most interesting by far are those that celebrate the glory and fall of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. The order in which they were composed seems to have been the same with that of the events narrated.

First comes the romance of "The Saint Graal," relating the history of this sacred relic which was carried by Joseph of Arimathea or his descendants into Britain, where it vanished for ages from the eyes of sinful men.

Second, the romance of "Merlin," which derives its name from the fiend- born prophet and magician, celebrates the birth and exploits of Arthur, and the gathering round him of the Knights of the Round Table. The historic origin of this story is from Geoffrey of Monmouth, though it is disguised by its supernatural and chivalrous features.

In the third romance, that of Launcelot, the hero nurtured by the Lady of the Lake in her fairy realm beneath the waters, grows up the bravest champion of chivalry, admired for all its virtues, although guilty of treachery to Arthur, and from his guilt is to ensue the destruction of the land.

Fourth, the "Quest of the Saint Graal" relates the solitary wanderings of the knights in this search, and how the adventure is at last achieved by Sir Gallahad, who, while the vision passes before him, prays that he may no longer live, and is immediately taken away from a world of calamity and sin.

Fifth, "The Mort Artus," or Death of Arthur, winds up with supernatural horrors the tale into which the fall of the ancient Britons had been thus transformed. Arthur, wounded and dying, is carried by the fairy of the lake to the enchanted island of Avalon, there to dream away the ages that must elapse before his return to reign over the perfected world of chivalry.

Sixth, "The Adventures of Tristram," or Tristan, is a repetition of those which had been attributed to Launcelot of the Lake.

These six romances of the British cycle, the originals of all others, were written in the latter half of the twelfth century for the English court and nobles, some of them at the suggestion of king Henry II. Although, composed in French, the authors were Englishmen, and from these prose romances the poets of France constructed many metrical romances which in the fifteenth century reappeared as English metrical romances.

5. SAXON ENGLISH.—The Saxon tongue of England decayed, but like the healthy seed in the ground it germinated again. The Saxon Chronicle which had been kept in the monasteries ceased abruptly on the accession of Henry II., 1154, and at the same period the Saxon language began to take a form in which the beginning of the present English is apparent.

During the thirteenth century appeared a series of rhyming chroniclers, the chief of whom were Layamon and Robert of Gloucester. All the remains of the English tongue, in its transition state, are chiefly in verse; among them are the "Ormulum" (so called from the name of the author, Ormin), which is a metrical harmony of passages from the gospels contained in the service of the mass, and the long fable of "The Owl and the Nightingale," one of the most pleasing of these early relics. "The Land of Cockayne," a satirical poem, said to have been written by Michael of Kildare, belongs also to the thirteenth century, as well as many anonymous poems, both amatory and religious.

The old English drama was almost contemporaneous with the formation of the Old English language; but all dramatic efforts previous to the sixteenth century were so rude as to deserve little notice.

6. LITERATURE IN THE FOURTEENTH CENTURY.—The fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, the afternoon and evening of the Middle Ages, are the picturesque period in English history. In the contemporary chronicle of Froissart, the reign of Edward III. shines with a long array of knightly pageants, and a loftier cast of imaginative adornment is imparted by the historical dramas of Shakspeare to the troubled rule of the house of Lancaster and the crimes and fall of the brief dynasty of York.

The reign of Edward II. was as inglorious in literature as in the history of the nation. That of his son was not more remarkable for the victories of Poictiers and Cressy than for the triumphs in poetry and thought. The Black Prince, the model of historic chivalry, and Occam, the last and greatest of the English scholastic philosophers, lived in the same century with Chaucer, the father of English poetry, and Wickliffe, the herald of the Reformation.

The earlier half of the fourteenth century, in its literary aspects, may be regarded as a separate period from the later. The genius of the nation seemed to sleep. England, indeed, was the birth-place of Occam (1300- 1347), but he neither remained in his own country, nor imparted any strong impulse to his countrymen. Educated abroad, he lived chiefly In France, and died in Munich. While the writings of his master, Duns Scotus (d. 1308), were the chief authorities of the metaphysical sect called Realists, Occam himself was the ablest and one of the earliest writers among the Nominalists. While the former of these sects was held especially favorable to the Romish Church, the latter was discouraged as heretical, and Occam was persecuted for enunciating those opinions which are now held in one form or another by almost all metaphysicians. No eminent names appear in the ecclesiastical literature of this period, nor in that of the spoken tongue; but the dawn of English literature was close at hand.

The latter half of this century was a remarkable era in the ecclesiastical and intellectual progress of England. Many colleges were founded, and learning had munificent patrons. The increase of papal power led to claims which were resisted by the clergy as well as by the parliament. Foremost among those who called for reform was the celebrated John Wickliffe (1324- 1384). A priest of high fame for his knowledge and logical dexterity, he was placed at the head of several of the colleges of Oxford, and there, and from the country parsonages to which he was afterwards compelled to retreat, he thundered forth his denunciations against the abuses of the church, attacked the papal supremacy, and set forth doctrinal views of his own nearly approaching to Calvinism. Although repeatedly called to account for his opinions he was never even imprisoned, and he enjoyed his church- livings to the last. But the church was weakened by the Great Schism, and he was protected by powerful nobles. Soon after his death, however, a storm of persecution burst on his disciples, which crushed dissent till the sixteenth century. We owe to Wickliffe the earliest version of the Scriptures into English, which is among the first prose writings in the old tongue.

The very oldest book in English prose, however, is the account given by Sir John Mandeville of his thirty-three years' travel in the East, from which he returned about 1355. It is an odd and amusing compound of facts and marvelous stories. But the best specimens of English prose of this period are Chaucer's translation of Boethius, his "Testament of Love," and two of his Canterbury Tales.

In poetical literature, "The Vision of Piers Plowman," written (1362) by a priest named Robert Langland, is one of the highest works in point of genius and one of the most curious as illustrating manners and opinions. The poet supposes himself falling asleep on Malvern Hills, and in his vision he describes the vices of the times in an allegorical form, which has been compared to "The Pilgrim's Progress." The poetical vigor of many passages is extraordinary.

John Gower (d. 1408), a contemporary and friend of Chaucer, is chiefly remembered for his "Confessio Amantis," or Lover's Confession, a long English poem, containing physical, metaphysical, and ethical reflections and stories taken from the common repertories of the Middle Ages. It is tedious, and often feeble, but it has many excellences of language and description.

Geoffrey Chaucer (1328-1400) was born in London. He was early thrown into public life and intimacy with men of high rank. John of Gaunt was his chief patron, and he was several times employed in embassies to France and Italy. A very large proportion of Chaucer's writings consists of free versions from the Latin and French, and perhaps also from the Italian; but in some of these he has incorporated so much that is his own as to make them the most celebrated and valuable of his works. His originals were not the chivalrous romances, but the comic Fabliaux, and the allegorical poetry cultivated by the Trouvères and Troubadours. Three of his largest minor works are thus borrowed; the "Romance of the Rose," from one of the most popular French poems of the preceding century; "Troilus and Cressida," a free translation, probably, from Boccaccio; and the "Legend of Good Women," founded on Ovid's Epistles. The poetical immortality of Chaucer rests on his "Canterbury Tales," a series of stories linked together by an ingenious device. A party of about thirty persons, the poet being one, are bound on a pilgrimage to the tomb of Thomas à Becket, at Canterbury; each person is to tell two tales, one in going, and the other in returning. Twenty-four only of the stories are related, but they extend to more than 17,000 lines. In the prologue, itself a poem of great merit, the poet draws up the curtain from a scene of life and manners which has not been surpassed in subsequent literature, a picture whose figures have been studied with the truest observation, and are outlined with the firmest, yet most delicate pencil. The vein of sentiment in these tales is always unaffected, cheerful, and manly, the most touching seriousness varying with the keenest humor. In some the tone rises to the highest flight of heroic, reflective, and even religious poetry; while in others it sinks below coarseness into positive licentiousness of thought and sentiment.

LITERATURE IN THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY.—The fifteenth century, usually marked in continental history as the epoch of the Revival of Classical Learning, was not in England a period of erudition or of original invention. The unwise and unjust wars with France, the revolts of the populace, and the furious struggles between the partisans of the rival houses desolated the country, and blighted and dwarfed all intellectual growth. For more than a hundred years after the death of Chaucer, scarcely any names of mark distinguish the literary annals of England, and the poetical compositions of this period are principally valuable as specimens of the rapid transition of the language into modern English. Almost all the literary productions previous to the time of Chaucer were designed only for a limited audience. Neither comprehensive observation of society nor a wish to instruct or please a wide circle of readers was observable before this period. Chaucer was indeed a national poet, an active and enlightened teacher of all classes of men who were susceptible of literary instruction.

John Lydgate (d. 1430), a Benedictine monk, the best and most popular poet of the fifteenth century, began to write before the death of Chaucer, but in passing from the works of the latter to those of Lydgate, we seem to be turning from the open highway into the dark, echoing cloisters. If he was the pupil of Chaucer in manner and style, his masters in opinion and sentiment were the compilers of the "Gesta Romanorum."

Stephen Hawes, who wrote in the reign of Henry VII., is the author of "The Pastime of Pleasure," an allegorical poem in the same taste as the "Romance of the Rose." This allegorical school of poetry, so widely spread through the Middle Ages, reappears in the Elizabethan age, where the same turn of thought is seen in the immortal "Faerie Queene."

In leaving this period we bid adieu to metrical romances, which, introduced into English in the latter half of the thirteenth century, continued to be composed until the middle of the fifteenth century, and were to the last almost always translations or imitations. Chivalrous stories next began to be related in prose. The most famous of these, one of the best specimens of Old English, and the most delightful of all repositories of romantic fiction is the "Mort Arthur," in which Sir Thomas Mallory, a priest in the reign of Edward IV., combined into one narrative the leading adventures of the Round Table.

As the romances ceased to be produced, the ballads gradually took their place, many of which indeed are either fragments or abridgments of them. The ballad-poetry was to the popular audience what the recital of the romances had been among the nobles. The latter half of the fifteenth century appears to have been fertile in minstrels and minstrelsy. "Chevy Chase," of which Sir Philip Sidney said it would move him like the blast of a trumpet, is one of the most ancient; but, according to Hallam, it relates to a totally fictitious event. The ballad of "Robin Hood" had probably as little origin in fact.

Towards the close of the fifteenth century, a mighty revolution took place. William Caxton, a merchant of London residing abroad, became acquainted with the recently invented art of printing, and embraced it as a profession. He introduced it into England about 1474, and practiced it for nearly twenty years. He printed sixty-four works in all, and the low state of taste and information in the public for which they were designated is indicated by the selection. But the enterprise and patience of Caxton hastened the time when this mighty discovery became available in England, and his name deserves to stand with honor at the close of the survey of English literature in the Middle Ages. Thenceforth literary works were to undergo a total change of character, brought about by many causes, but none more active than the substitution of the printed book for the manuscript.

6. THE FOURTEENTH AND FIFTEENTH CENTURIES IN SCOTLAND.—From the twelfth and thirteenth centuries there might be collected the names of a few scholastic theologians of Scottish birth, whose works have survived; but they spent their lives mostly on the continent, as was the case with Michael Scott, who gained his fame as a wizard at the court of the Emperor Frederic II. His extant writings are wholly inferior to those of Friar Bacon, his contemporary.

Two metrical romances of note belong to the fourteenth century, the "Original Cronykil" of Andrew Wyntoun (d. 1420), a long history of Scotland, and of the world at large; and "The Bruce" of John Barbour (d. 1396), a narrative of the adventures of King Robert in more than thirteen thousand rhymed lines. Dramatic vigor and occasional breadth of sentiment entitle this poem to a high rank. Sir Walter Scott, in his "Lord of the Isles," owes much to "The Bruce."

The earliest Scottish poem of the fifteenth century, "The King's Quair," or Book, in which James I. (d. 1437) celebrates the lady whom he afterwards married, presents no traces of a distinct Scottish dialect. But James was educated in England, and probably wrote there, and his pleasing poem exhibits the influence of those English writers whom he acknowledges as his masters. From this time, however, the development of the language of Scotland into a dialect went rapidly on. The "Wallace" of Henry the Minstrel, or Blind Harry, rivaled the "Bruce" in popularity, on account of the more picturesque character of the incidents, its passionate fervor, and the wildness of fancy by which it is distinguished.

Towards the close of this century, and in the beginning of the next,
Scottish poetry, now couched in a dialect decidedly peculiar, was
cultivated by men of high genius. Robert Henryson (d. 1400) wrote "The
Testament of the Faire Cresside," a continuation of Chaucer's poem, and
"Robin and Makyne," a beautiful pastoral, preserved in Percy's "Reliques."

More vigorous in thought and fancy, though inferior in skill and expression, was Gavin Douglas, Bishop of Dunkeld (d. 1522). His "King Hart" and "Palace of Honor" are complex allegories; and his translation of the Aeneid is the earliest attempt to render classical poetry into the living language of the country.

William Dunbar (d. 1520), the best British poet of his age, exhibits a versatility of talent which has rarely been equaled; but in his comic and familiar pieces, the grossness of language and sentiment destroys the effect of their force and humor. Allegory is his favorite field. In his "Golden Terge," the target is Reason, a protection against the assaults of love. "The Dance of the Seven Deadly Sins" is wonderfully striking; but the design even of this remarkable poem could not be decorously described.

While Scotland thus redeemed the poetical character of the fifteenth century, her living tongue was used only in versified compositions. Scottish prose does not appear in any literary shape until the first decade of the sixteenth century.

PERIOD THIRD.

FROM THE ACCESSION or HENRY VIII. TO THE PRESENT TIME (1509-1884).

1. AGE OF THE REFORMATION.—In the early part of the sixteenth century human intellect began to be stirred by impulses altogether new, while others, which had as yet been held in check, were allowed, one after another, to work freely. But there was no sudden or universal metamorphosis in literature, or in those phenomena by which its form and spirit were determined. It was not until 1568, when the reign of Elizabeth was within thirty years of its close, that English literature assumed a character separating it decisively from that of the ages which had gone before, and took its station as the worthy organ of a new epoch in the history of civilization. But the literary poverty of the age of the Reformation was the poverty which the settler in a new country experiences, while he fells the woods and sows his half-tilled fields; a poverty, in the bosom of which lay rich abundance.

The students of classical learning profited at first more than others by the diffusion of the art of printing, from the greater number of classical works which, were given to the press. Foreign men of letters visited England; Erasmus, especially, gave a strong impulse to study, and Greek and Latin were learned with an accuracy never before attained. Among the scholars of the time were Cardinals Pole and Wolsey, Ridley, Ascham, and Sir Thomas More, the author of the "Utopia," a romance in the scholastic garb. It describes an imaginary commonwealth, the chief feature of which is a community of property, on an imaginary island, from which the book takes its name. The epithet "Utopian" is still used as descriptive of chimerical schemes.

The most important works in the living tongue were those devoted to theology, and first among them were the translations of the Scriptures into English, none of which had been publicly attempted since that of Wickliffe. In 1526, William Tyndale (afterwards strangled and burnt for heresy, at Antwerp), translated the New Testament, and the five books of Moses. In 1537, after the final breach of Henry VIII. with Rome, there was published the first complete translation of the Bible, by Miles Coverdale. Many others followed until the accession of Mary, when the circulation of the translation was made in secrecy and fear. The theological writers of this period are chiefly controversial. Among them are Ridley, famous as a preacher; Cranmer, remarkable for his patronage of theological learning, and Latimer (d. 1555), whose sermons and letters are highly instructive and interesting. The "Book of Martyrs," by John Fox (d. 1527), was printed towards the close of this period.

The miscellaneous writings of this age in prose are most valuable as specimens of the language in its earliest maturity. None of them are entitled to high rank as monuments of English literature. The style of Sir Thomas More (1480-1535) had great excellence; but his works were only the recreation of an accomplished man in a learned age. The writings of the learned Ascham (1515-1565) have a value not to be measured by their inconsiderable bulk. Their language is pure, idiomatic, vigorous English; and they exhibit a great variety of knowledge, remarkable sagacity, and sound common sense. His most celebrated work, the "Schoolmaster," proposes improvements in education for which there is still both room and need. Thomas Wilson, who wrote a treatise on the "Art of Logic" and "Rhetoric," may be considered the first critical writer in the living tongue.

The poetry of England during the reigns of Henry VIII. and his immediate successors is like the prose, valuable for its relation to other things, rather than for its own merit. Yet it occupies a higher place than the prose; it exhibits a decided contrast to that of the times past, and in many points bears a close resemblance to the poetry of the energetic age that was soon to open.

The names of the poets of this age may be arrayed in three groups, headed by Skelton, Surrey, and Sackville. The poems of Skelton (d. 1529) are singularly though coarsely energetic. He was the tutor of Henry VIII., and during the greater part of the reign of his pupil he continued to satirize social and ecclesiastical abuses. His poems are exceedingly curious and grotesque, and the volubility with which he vents his acrid humors is truly surprising. Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey (1516-1547), opened a new era in English poetry, and by his foreign studies, and his refinement of taste and feeling, was enabled to turn poetical literature into a path as yet untrodden, although in vigor and originality this ill-fated poet was inferior to others who have been long forgotten. His works consist of sonnets and poems of a lyrical and amatory cast, and a translation of the Aeneid. He first introduced the sonnet, and the refined and sentimental turn of thought borrowed from Petrarch and the other Italian masters. In his Aeneid he introduced blank verse, a form of versification in which the noblest English poetry has since been couched. This was also taken from Italy, where it had appeared only in the century. Surrey's versions of some of the Psalms, and those of his contemporary, Sir Thomas Wyatt, are the most polished of the many similar attempts made at that time, among which was the collection of Sternhold and Hopkins.

Thomas Sackville, Lord Buckhurst (1686-1608) wrote those portions most worthy of notice, of the "Mirror for Magistrates," a collection of poems celebrating illustrious but unfortunate personages who figure in the history of England. From his "Induction," or preparatory poem, later writers have drawn many suggestions.

The dramatic exhibitions of the Middle Ages, which originated in the church, or were soon appropriated by the clergy, were of a religious cast, often composed by priests and monks who were frequently the performers of them in the convents. All the old religious plays called Mysteries were divided into Miracles, or Miracle plays, founded on Bible narratives or legends of the saints; and Moralities or Moral plays, which arose out of the former by the introduction of imaginary features and allegorical personages, the story being so constructed as to convey an ethical or religious lesson. They became common in England about the time of the reign of Henry VI. (1422-1461). Some of the Miracle plays treated of all the events of Bible history, from the Creation to the Day of Judgment; they were acted on festivals, and the performance often lasted more than one day. The most sacred things are here treated with undue freedom, and the broadest and coarsest mirth is introduced to keep the attention of the rude audience. Many of them had a character called Iniquity, whose avowed function was that of buffoonery. The Mysteries were not entirely overthrown by the Reformation, the Protestant Bishop Bale having composed several, intended to instruct the people in the errors of popery. After the time of Henry VIII. these plays are known by the name of Interludes, the most celebrated of which are those by John Heywood (the epigrammatist). They deal largely in satire, and are not devoid of spirit and humor. But they have little skill in character- painting, and little interest in the story.

About the middle of the century (sixteenth) the drama extricated itself completely from its ancient fetters, and both comedy and tragedy began to exist in a rude reality. The oldest known comedy was written by Nicholas Udall (d. 1556); it has the title of "Ralph Roister Doister," a personage whose misadventures are represented with much comic force.

Ten years later the earliest tragedy, known by two names, "Gorboduc" and "Ferrex and Porrex," was publicly played in the Lower Temple. It is founded on the traditions of fabulous British history, and is believed to have been written by Thomas Norton and Lord Buckhurst. The chief merit of this earliest English tragedy lies in its stately language and solemnly reflective tone of sentiment.

2. THE AGE OF SPENSER, SHAKSPEARE, BACON, AND MILTON (1558-1660).—The prose of this illustrious period is vast in amount and various in range. The study of the Oriental languages and other pursuits bearing on theology were prosecuted with success, and many of the philosophical and polemical writings were composed in Latin. A second series of translations of the Scriptures were among the most important works of the time. The first of the three versions which now appeared (1560), came from a knot of English and Scotch exiles who sought refuge in Geneva, and their work, known as the Geneva Bible, though not adopted by the Church of England, long continued in favor with the English Puritans and Scotch Presbyterians. Cranmer's version was next revised (1568) under the superintendence of Matthew Parker, archbishop of Canterbury, eminent among the fathers of the English church, and called the Bishops' Bible, a majority of fifteen translators having been selected from the bench. The Catholic version, known as the Douay Bible, appeared in 1610. Our current translation, which also appeared in 1610, during the reign of James I., occupied forty-seven learned men, assisted by other eminent scholars, for a period of three years.

Among theological writings, the "Ecclesiastical Polity" of Hooker (1553- 1600) is a striking effort of philosophical thinking, and in point of eloquence one of the noblest monuments of the language. More than Ciceronian in its fullness and dignity of style, it wears with all its richness a sober majesty which is equally admirable and rare. The sermons of Bishop Andrews (1565-1626), though corrupt as models of style, made an extraordinary impression, and contain more than any other works of the kind the inwrought materials of oratory. The sermons of Donne (1573-1631), while they are superior in style, are sometimes fantastic, like his poetry, but they are never coarse, and they derive a touching interest from his history.

But the most eloquent of all the old English divines are the two celebrated prelates of the reign of Charles I., Joseph Hall (1574-1656) and Jeremy Taylor (1613-1671), alike eminent for Christian piety and conscientious zeal. Besides his pulpit discourses, Bishop Hall has left a series of "Contemplations" on passages of the Bible, and "Meditations," which are particularly rich in beautiful descriptions. Among the most practical and popular of Taylor's works are his "Holy Living" and "Holy Dying," while his sermons distinguish him as one of the great ornaments of the English pulpit. The chief theologian of the close of the period was Richard Baxter (1615-1691). His works have great value for their originality and acuteness of thought, and for their vigorous and passionate though unpolished eloquence. His "Call to the Unconverted" and "The Saint's Everlasting Rest" deserve their wide popularity. Among the semi-theological writers of the time are Fuller, Cudworth, and Henry More, Fuller (1608-1661) is most widely known through his "Worthies of England," a book of lively and observant gossip. Cudworth and More, his contemporaries, deviated in their philosophical writings from the tendencies of Bacon and the sensualistlc doctrines of Hobbes, and regarded existence rather from the spiritual point of view of Plato; in the preceding generation, the skepticism of Lord Herbert of Cherbury taught a different lesson from theirs.

In this period we encounter in the philosophical field two of the strongest thinkers who have appeared in modern Europe, Bacon and Hobbes. Bacon (1561-1620) aimed at the solution of two great problems, the answers to which were intended to constitute the "Instauratio Magna," the great Restoration of Philosophy, that colossal work, towards which the chief writings of this illustrious author were contributions. The first problem was an Analytic Classification of all departments of Human Knowledge, which occupies a portion of his treatise "On the Advancement of Learning." Imperfect and erroneous as his scheme may be allowed to be, D'Alembert and his coadjutors in the last century were able to do no more than to copy and distort it. In his "Novum Organum" he undertakes to supply certain deficiencies of the Aristotelian system of logic, and expounds his mode of philosophizing; he was the first to unfold the inductive method, which he did in so masterly a way, that he has earned, with posterity, the title of the father of experimental science. His "Essays," from the excellence of their style and the interesting nature of the subjects, are the most generally read of all the author's productions. No English writer surpasses Bacon in fervor and brilliancy of style, in force of expression, or in richness and significance of imagery. His writings, though they received during his lifetime the neglect for which he had proudly prepared himself, gave a mighty impulse to scientific thought for at least a century after his time. In his will, the following strikingly prophetic passage is found: "My name and memory I leave to foreign nations, and to mine own country, after some time is passed over."

The influence of Hobbes on philosophy in England has been greater than that of Bacon. In politics, his theory is that of uncontrolled absolutism, subjecting religion and morality to the will of the sovereign; in ethics he resolves all our impulses regarding right and wrong into self-love. His reasoning is close and consistent, and if his premises are granted, it is hardly possible to avoid his conclusions. Other departments in the prose literature of this period were amply filled and richly adorned. Speculations upon the Theory of Society and Civil Polity were frequent. Among them are the Latin works of Bellenden "On the State," the "New Atlantis," a romance by Lord Bacon, the "Oceana" of Harrington, and the "Leviathan" of Hobbes.

In the collection of materials for national history the period was exceedingly active. Camden and Selden stand at the head of the band of antiquaries. Hobbes wrote in his old age "Behemoth, or a History of the Civil Wars," and the "Turkish History" of Knolles has been pronounced one of the most spirited narratives in the language.

Sir Walter Raleigh (1552-1618), while lying in the Tower under sentence of death, wrote a "History of the World," from the Creation to the Republic of Rome. The narrative is spirited and pervaded by a tone of devout sentiment.

The accomplished Sir Philip Sidney (1554-1586), in his "Defense of Poesy," pays an eloquent tribute to the value of the most powerful of all the literary arts. His "Arcadia" is a ponderous combination of romantic and pastoral incidents, the unripe production of a young poet, but it abounds in isolated passages beautiful alike in sentiment and language.

Towards the close of the period, Milton manifested extraordinary power in prose writing; his defense of the "Liberty of Unlicensed Printing" is one of the most impressive pieces of eloquence in the English tongue. His style is more Latinized than that of most of his contemporaries, and this exotic infection pervades both his terms and his arrangement; yet he has passages marvelously sweet, and others in which the grand sweep of his sentences emulates the cathedral music of Hooker.

The press now began to pour forth shoals of short novels, romances, and essays, and pamphlets on various subjects. Among other productions is Burton's "Anatomy of Melancholy," a storehouse of odd learning and quaintly-original ideas; it is deficient, however, in style and power of consecutive reasoning. Far above Burton in eloquence and strength of thought is Sir Thomas Browne (1605-1682), whose writings have all the characteristics of the age in a state of extravagant exaggeration. The thoughtful melancholy, the singular mixture of skepticism and credulity, and the brilliancy of imaginative illustration, give his essays a peculiarity of character that renders them exceedingly fascinating. The poet Cowley, in his prose writings, is distinguished for his undeviating simplicity and perspicuity, and for smoothness and ease, of which hardly another instance could be produced from any other book written before the Restoration.

The English drama has been called Irregular in contrast to the Regular drama of Greece and that of modern France, founded upon the Greek, by the French critics of the age of Louis XIV. The principal law of this system, as we have seen, prescribed obedience to the Three Unities, of Time, of Place, and of Action; the two first being founded on the desire to imitate in the drama the series of events which it represents, the time of action was allowed to extend to twenty-four hours, and the scene to change from place to place in the same city. But by Shakspeare and his contemporaries no fixed limits were acknowledged in regard either of time or place, the action stretching through many years, and the scene changing to very wide distances. The rule prescribing unity of action, that everything shall be subordinate to the series of events which is taken as the guiding-thread, is a much more sound one; and in most of Shakspeare's works, as well as those of his contemporaries, this unity of impression, as it has been called, is fully preserved.

Before the year 1585 no perceptible advance had been made in the drama, and for the period of sixty years, from that date to the closing of the theatres in 1645, on the breaking out of the Civil War, the history of Shakspeare's works forms the leading thread. Men of eminent genius lived around and after him, but there were none who do not derive much of their importance from the relation in which they stand to him, and hardly any whose works do not owe much of their excellence to the influence of his.

Thus considered, the stages through which the drama now passed may be said to have been four, three of which occurred chiefly during the life of the poet, the fourth after his death. The first of these periods witnessed the early manhood of Shakspeare, and closes about 1593. Among his immediate predecessors and coadjutors were Marlowe and Greene. The plays of Marlowe (1562-1593) are stately tragedies, serious in purpose, energetic and often extravagant in passion and in language, and richly and pompously imaginative. His "Tragical History of Doctor Faustus" is one of the finest poems in the language. The productions of Greene are loose, legendary plays of a form exemplified in Cymbeline.

To the first period of the dramatic life of Shakspeare (1564-1616) belong the "Two Gentlemen of Verona," the "Comedy of Errors," and "Love's Labor's Lost," which show that the mighty master, even in these juvenile essays, had taken a wide step beyond the dramas of the time. Pure comedy had no existence in England until he created it, and in these comedies it is evident that everything is juvenile, unripe, and marvelously unlike the grand pictures of life which he soon afterwards began to paint. But if he was more than a student in this first stage of his progress, he was a teacher and model ever after. The second period for Shakspeare and the drama closes with the year 1600. During this most active part of his literary life, he produced eight comedies, and re-wrote "Romeo and Juliet." But the most elevated works of these six years were his magnificent series of historical plays. The series after 1600 began with the great tragedies, Othello, Hamlet (recomposed), Macbeth, and Lear, followed by Henry VIII., the three tragedies on Roman subjects, and the three singular pieces, "Timon of Athens," "Troilus and Cressida," and "Measure for Measure," apparently of the same date. "Cymbeline" and the "Winter's Tale" were probably composed after he had retired from the turmoil of his profession to the repose of his early home. In the "Tempest." doubtless his last work, he peopled his haunted island with a group of beings whose conception indicates a greater variety of imagination, and in some points a greater depth of thought than any others which he has bequeathed to us.

The name of Shakspeare is the greatest in all literature. No man ever came near him in creative power—no man had ever such strength combined with such variety of imagination. Of all authors, he is the most natural in his style, and yet there is none whose words are so musical in arrangement, so striking and picturesque in themselves, or contain so many thoughts. Every page furnishes instances of that intensifying of expression, where some happy word conveys a whole train of ideas condensed into a single luminous point—words so new, so full of meaning, yet so unforced and natural, that the rudest mind intuitively perceives their meaning, and yet which no study could improve or imitate. This constitutes the most striking peculiarity of the Shakspearean language, and while it justifies the almost idolatrous veneration of his countrymen, renders him, of all writers, the most untranslatable. Of all authors, Shakspeare has least imitated or repeated himself. While he gives us, in many places, portraits of the same passion, the delineations are as distinct and dissimilar as they are in nature; all his personages involuntarily, and in spite of themselves, express their own characters. From his works may be gleaned a complete collection of precepts adapted to every condition of life and every conceivable circumstance of human affairs. His wit is unbounded, his passion inimitable, and over all he has thrown a halo of human sympathy no less tender than his genius was immeasurable and profound.

The effect of Shakspeare's influence on his contemporaries was predominating in everything but the moral aspect of his plays. The licentiousness, begun in the earlier years of the seventeenth century, increased with accelerated speed down to the closing of the theatres by the Civil War.

Highest by far, in poetical and dramatic value, stand the works of Beaumont (1586-1615) and Fletcher (1576-1625). Many of them are said to have been written by the two jointly, a few by the former alone, and a large number by the latter after he had lost his friend; such alliances in dramatic poetry were common in England at this period. But the looseness of fancy which deformed the drama, and which degenerated at last into deliberate licentiousness, is nowhere so glaring as in these finest and most imaginative productions of their day, and which are poetically superior to all of the kind in the language, except those of Shakspeare.

The classical model was closely approached by Ben Jonson (1574-1637) in both tragedy and comedy, and he deserves immortality for other reasons than his comparative purity of morals. He was the one man of his time besides Shakspeare who deserves to be called a reflective artist, who perceived the rules of art and worked in obedience to them. His tragedies are stately, eloquent, and poetical; his comedies are more faithful poetic portraits of contemporary English life than those of any other dramatist, Shakspeare excepted.

Jonson wrote for men of sense and knowledge; Beaumont and Fletcher for men of fashion and the world. A similar audience to that of Jonson may have been aimed at in the stately tragedies of Chapman, and the other class would have relished the plays of Middleton and Webster.

Among the dramatists of the commonalty may be named Thomas Heywood, one of the most moral play writers of his time, who has sometimes been called the prose Shakspeare, and Decker, a voluminous writer, who cooperated in several plays of more celebrated men, especially those of Massinger.

The closing period of the old English drama is represented by Massinger, Ford, and Shirley. Massinger (1584-1640) is by some critics ranked next to Shakspeare. The theatres have retained unaltered his "New Way to Pay Old Debts," and his "Fatal Dowry" is preserved in Rowe's plagiarism from it, in the "Fair Penitent." But the low moral tone of the time is indicated in all these works, in which heroic sentiments, rising often even to religious rapture, are mingled with scenes of the grossest ribaldry.

By Ford, incidents of the most revolting kind are laid down as the foundation of his plots, upon which he wastes a pathos and tenderness deeper than is elsewhere found in the drama; and with Shirley vice is no longer held up as a mere picture, but it is indicated, and sometimes directly recommended, as a fit example. When the drama was at length suppressed, the act destroyed a moral nuisance.

Spenser (1553-1599), among the English poets, stands lower only than Shakspeare, Chaucer, and Milton. His works unite rare genius with moral purity, exquisite sweetness of language, luxuriant beauty of imagination, and a tenderness of feeling rarely surpassed, and never elsewhere conjoined with an imagination so vivid. His magnificent poem, the "Faerie Queene," though it contains many thousand lines, is yet incomplete, no more than half of the original design being executed. The diction is studded purposely with forms of expression already become antiquated, and many peculiarities are forced upon the author from the difficulties of the complex measure which he was the first to adopt, and which still bears his name.

The Fairy Land of Spenser is rather the Land of Chivalry than the region we are accustomed to understand by that term; a scene in which heroic daring and ideal purity are the objects chiefly presented to our imagination, in which the principal personages are knights achieving perilous adventures, ladies rescued from frightful miseries, and good and evil enchanters, whose spells affect the destiny of those human persons. Spenser would probably not have written precisely as he did, if Ariosto had not written before him; nor is it unlikely that he was also guided by the later example of Tasso; but his design was in many features nobler and more arduous than that of either. His deep seriousness is unlike the mocking tone of the "Orlando Furioso," and in his moral enthusiasm he rises higher than the "Jerusalem;" although the poetic effect of his work is marred by his design of producing a series of ethical allegories.

The hero is the chivalrous Arthur of the British legends, but wrapt in a cloud of symbols. Gloriana, the Faërie Queene, who was to be the object of the prince's warmest love, was herself an emblem of Virtuous Renown, and designed also to represent the poet's queen, Elizabeth. All the incidents are significant of moral truth, and all the personages are allegorical. The adventures of the characters, connected by no tie, except the occasional interposition of Arthur, form really six independent poetic tales. The First Book, by far the finest of all, relates the Legend of the Red Cross Knight, who is a type of Holiness, and who shadows forth the history of the Church of England. In the second, which abounds in exquisite painting of picturesque landscapes, we have the Legend of Sir Guyon, illustrating the virtue of Temperance. The theme of the Third Book is the Legend of Britomart, or of Chastity, in which we are introduced to Belphoebe and Amoret, two of those beautiful female characters which the poet takes such pleasure in delineating. Next comes the Legend of Friendship, personified in the knights Cambel and Triamond. In the Fifth Book, containing the Legends of Sir Artegal, the emblem of Justice, there is a perceptible falling off. The Sixth Book, the Legend of Sir Calidore, or Courtesy, though it lacks unity, is in some scenes inspired with the warmest glow of fancy.

The mind of Spenser embraced a vast range of imaginary creation, but the interest of real life is wanting. His world is ideal, abstract, and remote, yet affording in its multiplied scenes ample scope for those nobler feelings and heroic virtues which we love to see even in transient connection with human nature.

The non-dramatic poets of this time begin with Spenser and end with Milton, and between these two there were writers of great excellence. The vice of the age was a laboring after conceits or novel turns of thought, usually false, and resting upon some equivocation of language or remote analogy. No poet of the time was free from it; Shakspeare indulged in it occasionally, others incessantly, holding its manifestations to be their finest strokes of art.

The poetical works of this age were metrical translations from the classics—narrative, historical, descriptive, didactic, pastoral, and lyrical poems. One of the most beautiful religious poems in any language is "Christ's Victory and Triumph," by Giles Fletcher (d. 1623): it is animated in narrative, lively in fancy, and touching in feeling. Drayton (d. 1631) was the author of the "Poly-Olbion," a topographical description of England, and a signal instance of fine fancy and great command of language, almost thrown away from its prosaic design. Fulke Greville (Lord Brooke), the friend of Sir Philip Sidney, exhibits great powers of philosophical thought, in pointed and energetic diction, in his poem on "Human Learning." Among the religious poets are "Holy George Herbert" (d. 1632), who, by his life and writings, presented the belief and offices of the church in their most amiable aspect, and Quarles (d. 1644), best known by his "Divine Emblems," which abound in quaint and grotesque illustrations.

The lyrical poems of the time were numerous, and were written by almost all the poets eminent in other departments. In those of Donne, in spite of their conceits and affectations, are many passages wonderfully fine. Those of Herrick (b. 1591), in graceful fancy and delicate expression, are many of them unsurpassed; in subject and tone they vary from grossly licentious expression to the utmost warmth of devout aspiration. Cowley (1618-1667), the latest and most celebrated of the lyric poets, was gifted with extraordinary poetic sensibility and fancy, but he was prone to strained analogies and unreal refinements. Among the minor lyrical poets are Carew, Ayton, Habington, Suckling, and Lovelace. Denham (1615-1668) and Waller (1605-1687) form a sort of link between the time before the Restoration and that which followed. The "Cooper's Hill" of the first is a reflective and descriptive poem in heroic verse, and the diversified poems of the last were remarkable advances in ease and correctness of diction and versification.

The poetry of that imaginative period which began with Spenser closes yet more nobly with Milton (1608-1674). He, standing in some respects apart from his stern contemporaries of the Commonwealth as from those who debased literature in the age of the Restoration, yet belongs rather to the older than the newer period. In the midst of evil men and the gloom of evil days the brooding thought of a great poetical work was at length matured, and the Christian epic, chanted at first when there were few disposed to hear, became an enduring monument of genius, learning, and art. His early poems alone would indicate his superiority to all the poets of the period, except Shakspeare and Spenser. The most popular of them, "L'Allegro" and "Il Penseroso," are the best of their kind in any language. In the "Comus" there are passages exquisite for imagination, for sentiment, and for the musical flow of the rhythm, in which the majestic swell of the poet's later blank verse begins to be heard. The "Paradise Regained" abounds with passages in themselves beautiful, but the plan is poorly conceived, and the didactic tendency prevails to weariness as the work proceeds. The theme of the "Paradise Lost" is the noblest of any ever chosen. The stately march of its diction; the organ peal with which its versification rolls on; the continual overflowing of beautiful illustrations; the brightly-colored pictures of human happiness and innocence; the melancholy grandeur with which angelic natures are clothed in their fall, are features which give the mind images and feelings not soon or easily effaced.

3. THE AGE OF THE RESTORATION AND THE REVOLUTION (1660-1702).—Among the able churchmen who passed from the troubles of the Commonwealth and Protectorate to the Restoration were Jeremy Taylor, Archbishop Leighton, and others of eminence. South, Tillotson, and Barrow were more able theologians, but their writings lack the charm of sentiment which Leighton's warmth of heart diffuses over all his works. South (d. 1716) was a man of remarkable oratorical endowments, sarcastic, intolerant, and fierce in polemical attacks. The writings of Tillotson (d. 1694) are pervaded by a higher and better spirit, and the sermons of Barrow (d. 1677) combine comprehensiveness, sagacity, and clearness. Other divines, such as Stillingfleet, Pearson, Burnet, Bull, hold a more prominent place in the history of the church than in that of letters. But all the writers of this age are wanting in that impressiveness and force of undisciplined eloquence which distinguished the first half of the seventeenth century. Among the nonconformist clergy, Howe (d. 1715) wrote the "Living Temple," which is ranked among the religious classics.

The great though untrained genius of John Bunyan (1628-1688) produced the
"Pilgrim's Progress," which holds a distinguished place in permanent
English literature.

John Locke (1632-1704) may be taken as the representative of the English Philosophy of the time, and his influence on the speculative opinions of his day was second only to that of Hobbes. His "Essay on the Understanding" contains the germ of utter skepticism and was the ground on which Berkeley denied the existence of the material world, and Hume involved all human knowledge in doubt.

In classical learning the greatest of the scholars of this period was
Bentley (1662-1742).

In history Lord Clarendon (1608-1774) wrote the "History of the Rebellion," and Burnet (1643-1715) his "History of the Reformation," one of the most thoroughly digested works of the century. His "History of his own Times" is valuable for its facts, and for the shrewdness with which he describes the state of things around him.

In miscellaneous prose, John Evelyn wrote several useful and tasteful works, and Izaak Walton (1593-1688), a London tradesman, wrote his interesting Biographies and the quaint treatise "On Angling." Both in diction and sentiment these works remind us of the preceding age; and Walton, surviving Milton, closes the series of old English prose writers.

Samuel Butler (1612-1680), the unfortunate, ill-requited laureate of the Royalists, who satirized the Puritans and Republicans in his celebrated "Hudibras," left some exceedingly witty and vigorous prose writings; and Andrew Marvell (1620-1678), the friend and protector of Milton, was most successful in sarcastic irony, and in his attacks on the High Church opinions and doings.

John Dryden (1631-1700) was the literary chief of the interval between Cromwell and Queen Anne. His prose writings, besides comedies, are few, but in these he taught principles of poetical art previously unknown to his countrymen, and showed the capabilities of the tongue in a new light. Inferior to Dryden in vigor of thought was Sir William Temple (1628-1698), who may yet share with him the merit of having founded regular English prose. His literary character rests chiefly on his "Miscellaneous Essays."

The symmetrical structure and artificial polish of contemporaneous French literature, while it was not without some good influence on English prose, was less beneficial to poetry, and its worst effect was on the drama, which soon ceased to be pictures of human beings in action and became only descriptive of such pictures. In this walk as in others Dryden was the literary chief, and of his plays it can truly be said that the serious ones contain many striking and poetical pieces of declamation, finely versified. His comedies are bad morally, and as dramas even worse than those of his rival Shadwell. Lee was only a poor likeness of Dryden.

In the "Orphan" and "Venice Preserved" of Otway we have southing of the revival of the ancient strength of feeling though alloyed by false sentiment and poetic poverty.

Congreve showed great power of language in tragedy, and Southerne not a little nature and pathos.

In comedy the fame of these writers was eclipsed by a knot of dramatists who adopted prose, but whose works are the foulest that ever disgraced the literature of a nation. They are excellent specimens of that which has been called the comedy of manners; vice is inextricably interwoven in the texture of all alike, in the broad humor of Wycherly (the most vigorous of the set), in the wit of Congreve, in the character painting of Vanbrugh, and the lively invention of Farquhar.

In other kinds of poetry we find similar changes of taste which affected the art injuriously, although the increased attention paid to correctness and refinement was a step in improvement. These mischievous changes related both to the themes and forms of poetry, and in neither can the true functions of art be forgotten without injury to the work. An age must be held unpoetical, and cannot produce great poetical works, if its poetry chooses insufficient topics; and the aims of the age of the Restoration were low, producing only a constant crop of poems celebrating contemporary events or incidents in the lives of individuals. The dramatic and narrative forms of poetry are undoubtedly those in which that imaginative excitement of pleasing emotion, which is the immediate and characteristic end of the art, may be most powerfully worked out, and to one of these forms all the greatest poems have belonged. But in the age of the Restoration the drama had lost its elevation and poetic significance, and original narrative poetry was hardly known. Almost all the poems of the day were didactic, and the prevalence of this style of poetry is a palpable symptom of an unpoetical age. The verse-making of these forty years, after setting aside a very few works, maintains a dead level. Among the dwarfish rhymers of the day there lingered some of the august shapes of a former age. Milton still walked his solitary course, and Waller wrote his occasional odes and verses, but of names not already given there are no more than two or three that require commemoration. One of the famous poems of the day was an "Essay on Translated Verse," by Lord Roscommon; and the smaller poems of Marvell are felicitous in feeling and diction; both writers are distinguished for their moral purity.

The "Hudibras" of Butler, which properly belongs to the age before, is a phenomenon in the history of English literature. His pungent wit, his extraordinary ingenuity, and his command of words are rare endowments, but he has no poetic vein that yields jewels of the first water, and his place is not a high one in the path which leads upward to the ethereal regions of the imagination.

Pryor (1661-1721) in his lighter pieces shows wit of a less manly kind.
His serious poems have great facility of phrase and melody.

Dryden was a man of high endowments as a poet and thinker, condemned to labor for a corrupt generation, and he has received from posterity no higher fame than that of having improved English prose style and versification. His poems are rather essays couched in vigorous verse, with here and there passages of great poetical beauty. His "Annus Mirabilis," celebrating with great animation the year 1666, is an effusion of historical panegyric. The "Absalom and Achitophel" is a satire on the unfortunate Duke of Monmouth and his adviser Shaftesbury. "The Hind and Panther," full of poetical and satirical force, was an argument to justify the author's recent change of religion. One of the most thoroughly sustained poems is the "Ode on Alexander's Feast." His translation of the Aeneid, as imperfect a picture of the original as Pope's translation of the Iliad, is yet full of vigor and one of his best specimens of the heroic couplet, a measure never so well written in English as by Dryden.

4. THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.—The influence of the eighteenth century on prose style has been great and permanent, and the two dissimilar manners of writing which were then formed, have contributed to all that is distinctive in our modern form of expression. The earlier of these is found in the language of Addison and Swift, the later in that of Johnson. The style of Addison and his friends reproduced those genuine idiomatic peculiarities of our speech which had been received into the conversation of intelligent men. The style of which Johnson was the characteristic example abandons in part the native and familiar characteristics of the Saxon for those expressions and forms common to the modern European tongues. Large use was made of words derived from the Latin, which, in addition to the effect of novelty, gave greater impressiveness and pomp to the style.

In the First Generation, named from Queen Anne, but including also the reign of George I. (d. 1727), the drama scarcely deserves more than a parenthesis. Although the moral tone had improved, it was still not high, when Gray's "Beggar's Opera" and Cibber's "Careless Husband" were the most famous works. The "Fair Penitent" has been noticed as a clever plagiarism from Massinger; in Addison's "Cato" the strict rules of the French stage were preserved, but its stately and impressive speeches cannot be called dramatic. The "Revenge" of Young had more of tragic passion; but it wanted the force of characterization which seemed to have been buried with the old dramatists.

The heroic measure, as it was now used, aimed at smoothness of melody and pointedness of expression, and in this the great master was Pope.

In the poems of Pope (1688-1744), we find passages beautifully poetical, exquisite thoughts, vigorous portraits of character, shrewd observation, and reflective good sense, but we are wafted into no bright world of imagination, rapt in no dream of strong passion, and seldom raised into any high region of moral thought. Like all the poets of his day, he set a higher value on skill of execution than on originality of conception, and systematically abstained from all attempts to excite imagination or feeling. The taste of the poet and of his times is most clearly shown in his "Essay on Criticism," published before his twenty-first year. None of his works unites more happily, regularity of plan, shrewdness of thought, and beauty of verse. His most successful effort, the "Rape of the Lock," assumed its complete shape in his twenty-sixth year, and is the best of all mock-heroic poems. The sharpest wit, the keenest dissection of the follies of fashionable life, the finest grace of diction, and the softest flow of melody, come appropriately to adorn a tale in which we learn how a fine gentleman stole a lock of a lady's hair. In the "Epistle of Eloisa to Abelard," and in the "Elegy on an Unfortunate Lady," he attempted the pathetic not altogether in vain. The last work of his best years was his "Translation of the Iliad;" of the Odyssey he translated only half. Both misrepresent the natural and simple majesty of manner which the ancient poet never lost; yet if we could forget Homer, we might be proud of them. In the "Dunciad" he threw away an infinity of wit upon writers who would not otherwise have been remembered. His "Essay on Man" contains much exquisite poetry and finely solemn thought; it abounds in striking passages which, by their felicities of fancy, good sense, music, and extraordinary terseness of diction, have gained a place in the memory of every one.

Among the philosophical writers none holds so prominent a place as Bishop Berkeley (1684-1753), whose refinement of style and subtlety of thought have seldom been equaled. His philosophical Idealism exercised much influence on the course of metaphysical inquiry.

Lord Shaftesbury's brilliant but indistinct treatises have also been the germ of many discussions in ethics.

Bolingbroke wrote with great liveliness, but with equal shallowness of thought and knowledge.

Daniel Defoe (1661-1731) is not likely to be forgotten on account of one of his many novels, "Robinson Crusoe." His idiomatic English style is not one of the least of his merits.

Among the prose writings of Swift (1667-1745) there is none that is not a masterpiece of strong Saxon-English, and none quite destitute of his keen wit or cutting sarcasm. His satirical romances are most pungent when human nature is his victim, as in "Gulliver's Travels;" and not less amusing in "The Battle of the Books," or where he treats of church disputes in the "Tale of a Tub." The burlesque memoir of "Martinus Scriblerus" was the joint production of Swift, Pope, and Arbuthnot.

It contains more good criticism than any of the serious writings of the generation, and it abounds in the most biting strokes of wit. Arbuthnot is supposed to have been the sole author of the whimsical, national satire called the "History of John Bull," the best work of the class produced in that day. The "Letters of Lady Mary Wortley Montagu" belong to this age.

Of all the popular writers, however, that adorned the reign of Queen Anne and her successor, those whose influence has been the greatest and most salutary are the Essayists, among whom Joseph Addison and Richard Steele are preeminently distinguished.

"The Tatler," begun in Ireland by Steele, aided first by Swift, and afterwards by Addison, appeared three times a week from 1709 to 1711; "The Spectator," in which Addison took the lead, from 1711 to 1712; and "The Guardian," a part of the next year. Steele (1676-1729) had his merits somewhat unfairly clouded by the fame of his coadjutor. The extraordinary popularity of those periodicals, especially "The Spectator," was creditable to the reading persons of the community, then much fewer than now. The writers discarded from their papers all party-spirit, and designed to make them the vehicle of judicious teaching in morals, manners, and literary criticism. Thus they widened the circle of readers, and raised the standard of taste and thinking.

Of some of the more serious papers of the "Spectator," those of Addison (1672-1719) on the "Immortality of the Soul" and the "Pleasures of the Imagination" may be cited.

Among the theological writers of the Second Generation of the eighteenth century (the reign of George II., 1726-1760), one of the most famous in his day, though not the most meritorious, was Bishop Warburton; Bishop Butler (d. 1752), wrote his "Analogy of Religion, Natural and Revealed, to the Constitution and Course of Nature," a work of extraordinary force of thought; and there is much literary merit in the writings of the pious Watts and the devout Doddridge. The increasing zeal both in the Church of England and among the Dissenters, and the more cordial recognition of the importance of religion, greatly affected the literature of the times.

Philosophy had also its distinguished votaries. The philosophical works of Hume (1711-1776) are allowed by those who dissent most strenuously from their results to have constituted an epoch in the history of the science. In accepting the principles which had been received before him, and showing that they led to no conclusion but universal doubt, he laid bare the flaws in the system, and prepared the way for the subtle speculations of Kant and the more cautious systems of Reid and the Scottish school.

The miscellaneous literature of this, the age of Johnson, cannot stand comparison with that of the preceding, which was headed by Addison.

Samuel Johnson (1709-1784), one of the most celebrated of the professional authors of the eighteenth century, however, belongs to this period. Compelled by poverty to leave his education uncompleted, he sought the means of living in London, where, for a long time, unpatronized and obscure, he labored with dogged perseverance, until at length he won a fame which must have satisfied the most grasping ambition, but when, as he says, "most of those whom he had wished to please had sunk into the grave, and he had little to fear from censure or praise." That the reputation of his writings was above their deserts, cannot be denied, though it must also be admitted that the literature of our time is deficient in many of their excellences, both of thought and expression. They are the fruit of a strong and original mind, working with imperfect knowledge and an inadequate scope for activity. The language of Johnson is superior to his matter; he has striking force of diction, and many of his sentences roll on the ear like the sound of the distant sea, while the thoughts they convey impress us so vividly that we are slow to scrutinize them. His great merit lies in the two departments of morals and criticism, but everywhere he is inconsistent and unequal. His Dictionary occupied him for eight years, but it is of little value now to the student of language, being poor and incorrect in etymology and unsatisfactory though acute in definition. His poems, which are of Pope's school, would scarcely have preserved his name. The "Rambler," and "Rasselas," are characteristic of his merits and defects. The "Tour to the Hebrides" is one of the most pleasant and easy of his writings. His "Lives of the Poets" is admirable for its skill of narration, but it is alternately enlightened and unsound in criticism, and frequently marred by political prejudices and personal jealousies.

Of the novels of the time, the series begun by Richardson's (1689-1761) "Pamela," "Clarissa Harlowe," and "Sir Charles Grandison" have a virtuous aim, but they err by the plainness with which they describe vice. The tediousness and overwrought sentimentality of these works go far towards disqualifying the reader from appreciating their extraordinary skill in invention and in the portraiture of character.

Fielding (1707-1757) unites these qualities with greater knowledge of the world, pungent wit, and idiomatic strength of style. His mastery in the art of fictitious narrative has never been excelled; but his living pictures of familiar life, as well as the whimsical caricatures of Smollett and the humorous fantasies of Sterne, are disfigured by faults of which the very smallest are coarseness of language and bareness of licentious description, in which they outdid Richardson. Not only is their standard of morality low, but they display indifference to the essential distinctions of right and wrong, in regard to some of the cardinal relations of society.

The drama of the period has little literary importance. In non-dramatic poetry, several men of distinguished genius appeared, and changes occurred which indicated more just and comprehensive views of the art than those that had been prevalent in the last generation.

Young (1681-1765), in his "Night Thoughts," produced a work eloquent rather than poetical, dissertative when true poetry would have been imaginative, but suggesting much of imagery and feeling as well as religious reflection.

Resembling it in some points, but with more force of imagination, is the train of gloomy scenes which appears in Blair's "Grave." In Akenside's "Pleasures of Imagination," a vivid fancy and an alluring pomp of language are lavished on a series of pictures illustrating the feelings of beauty and sublimity; but, theorizing and poetizing by turns, the poet loses his hold of the reader.

The more direct and effective forms of poetry now came again into favor, such as the Scottish pastoral drama of Ramsay, and Falconer's "Shipwreck." But the most decisive instance of the growing insight into the true functions of poetry is furnished by Thomson's (1700-1748) "Seasons." No poet has ever been more inspired by the love of external nature, or felt with more keenness and delicacy those analogies between the mind and the things it looks upon, which are the fountains of poetic feeling. The faults of Thomson are triteness of thought when he becomes argumentative and a prevalent pomposity and pedantry of diction; though his later work, "The Castle of Indolence," is surprisingly free from these blemishes.

But the age was an unpoetical one, and two of the finest poetical minds of the nation were so dwarfed and weakened by the ungenial atmosphere as to bequeath to posterity nothing more than a few lyrical fragments. In the age which admired the smooth feebleness of Shenstone's pastorals and elegies, and which closed when the libels of Churchill were held to be good examples of poetical satire, Gray turned aside from the unrequited labors of verse to idle in his study, and Collins lived and died almost unknown. Gray (1716-1771) was as consummate a poetical artist as Pope. His fancy was less lively, but his sympathies were warmer and more expanded, though the polished aptness of language and symmetry of construction which give so classical an aspect to his Odes bring with them a tinge of classical coldness. The "Ode on Eton College" is more genuinely lyrical than "The Bards," and the "Elegy In a Country Churchyard" is perhaps faultless.

The Odes of Collins (1720-1759) have more of the fine and spontaneous enthusiasm of genius than any other poems ever written by one who wrote so little. We close his tiny volume with the same disappointed surprise which overcomes us when a harmonious piece of music suddenly ceases unfinished. His range of tones is very wide, and the delicacy of gradation with which he passes from thought to thought has an indescribable charm. His most popular poem, "The Passions," conveys no adequate idea of some of his most marked characteristics. All can understand the beauty and simplicity of his odes "To Pity," "To Simplicity," "To Mercy;" and the finely woven harmonies and the sweetly romantic pictures in the "Ode to Evening" recall the youthful poems of Milton.

Between the period just reviewed and the reign of George III., or the Third Generation of the eighteenth century, there were several connecting links, one of which was formed by a group of historians whose works are classical monuments of English literature. The publication of Hume's "History of England" began in 1754. Robertson's "History of Scotland" appeared in 1759, followed by his "Reign of Charles V." and his "History of America;" Gibbon's "Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire" was completed in twelve years from 1776. The narrative of Hume is told with great clearness, good sense, and quiet force of representation, and if his matter had been as carefully studied as his manner, if his social and religious theories had been as sound as his theory of literary art, his history would still hold a place from which no rival could hope to degrade it.

The style of Robertson and Gibbon is totally unlike that of Hume. They want his seemingly unconscious ease, his delicate tact, and his calm yet lively simplicity. Hume tells his tale to us as a friend to friends; his successors always seem to hold that they are teachers and we pupils. This change of tone had long been coming on, and was now very general in all departments of prose. Very few writers of the last thirty years of Johnson's life escaped this epidemic desire of dictatorship. Robertson (1722-1793) is an excellent story-teller, perspicuous, lively, and interesting. His opinions are wisely formed and temperately expressed, his disquisitions able and instructive, and his research so accurate that he is still a valuable historical authority.

The learning of Gibbon (1737-1794), though not always exact, was remarkably extensive, and sufficient to make him a trustworthy guide, unless in those points where he was inclined to lead astray. There is a patrician haughtiness in the stately march of his narrative and in the air of careless superiority with which he treats his heroes and his audience. He is a master in the art of painting and narration, nor is he less skillful in indirect insinuation, which is, indeed, his favorite mode of communicating his own opinions, but he is most striking in those passages in his history of the church, where he covertly attacks a religion which he neither believed nor understood.

Other historians produced works useful in their day, but now, for the most part, superseded; and in various other departments men of letters actively exerted themselves.

Johnson, seated at last in his easy-chair, talked for twenty years, the oracle of the literary world, and Boswell, soon after his death, gave to the world the clever record of these conversations, which has aided to secure the place in literature he had obtained by his writings. Goldsmith (1728-1774), had he never written poems, would stand among the classic writers of English prose from the few trifles on which he was able, in the intervals of literary drudgery, to exercise his powers of observation and invention, and to exhibit his warm affections and purity of moral sentiment. Such is his inimitable little novel, "The Vicar of Wakefield," and that good-natured satire on society, the "Citizen of the World."

Among the novelists, Mackenzie (1745-1831) wrote his "Man of Peeling," not unworthy of the companionship of Goldsmith's masterpiece; and among later novelists, Walpole, Moore, Cumberland, Mrs. Inchbald, and Charlotte Smith, Miss Burney and Mrs. Radcliffe may also be named.

In literary criticism, the authoritative book of the day was Johnson's "Lives of the Poets." Percy's "Reliques of Ancient English Poetry" (1765) was a delightful compilation, which, after being quite neglected for many years, became the poetical text-book of Sir Walter Scott and the poets of his time. A more scientific and ambitious effort was Warton's (1729-1790) "History of English Poetry," which has so much of antiquarian learning, poetical taste, and spirited writing, that it is not only an indispensable and valuable authority, but an interesting book to the mere amateur. With many errors and deficiencies, it has yet little chance of being ever entirely superseded.

In parliamentary eloquence, before the middle of the eighteenth century, we have the commanding addresses of the elder Pitt (Lord Chatham), and at the close, still leading the senate, are the younger Pitt, Fox, Sheridan, and Burke. Burke (1730-1797) must be remembered not only for his speeches but for his writing on political and social questions, as a great thinker of comprehensive and versatile intellect, and extraordinary power of eloquence.

The letters of "Junius," a remarkable series of papers, the authorship of which is still involved in mystery, appeared in a London daily journal from 1769 to 1772. They were remarkable for the audacity of their attacks upon the government, the court, and persons high in power, and from their extraordinary ability and point they produced an indelible impression on the public mind. The "Letters" of Walpole are poignantly satirical; those of Cowper are models of easy writing, and lessons of rare dignity and purity of sentiment.

In the history of philosophy, the middle of the eighteenth century was a very important epoch; before the close of the century, almost all of those works had appeared which have had the greatest influence on more recent thinking. These works may be divided into four classes. Under the first, Philosophical Criticism, may be classed Burke's treatise "On the Sublime and Beautiful," Sir Joshua Reynolds's "Discourse on Painting," Campbell's "Philosophy of Rhetoric," Kames's "Elements of Criticism," Blair's "Lectures on Rhetoric and Belles Lettres," and Horne Tooke's "Philosophy of Language."

In the second department, Political Economy, Adam Smith's great work, "The Wealth of Nations," stands alone, and is still acknowledged as the standard text-book of this science.

In the third department, Ethics, are Smith's "Theory of Moral Sentiment,"
Tucker's "Light of Nature," and Paley's "Moral and Political Philosophy."

In the fourth or Metaphysical department, we have only to note the rise of the Scottish School, under Thomas Reid (1710-1796), who combats each of the three schools, the Sensualistic evolved from Locke, holding that our ideas are all derived from sensation; the Idealistic, as proposed by Berkeley, which, allowing the existence of mind, denies that of matter; and the Skeptical, headed by Hume, which denies that we can know anything at all. Reid is a bold, dry, but very clear and logical writer, a sincere lover of truth, and a candid and honorable disputant; his system is original and important in the history of philosophy.

In the theological literature of this time are found Campbell's "Essay on
Miracles," Paley's "Evidences of Christianity" and "Natural Theology," and
Bishop Watson's "Apology for Christianity."

Among the devout teachers of religion was John Newton of Olney, the spiritual guide of Cowper; and of the moral writers, Hannah More and Wilberforce may be mentioned.

The only tragedy that has survived from these last forty years of the eighteenth century is the "Douglas" of Home, whose melody and romantic pathos lose much of their effect from its monotony of tone and feebleness in the representation of character. Comedy was oftener successful. There was little merit in the plays of the elder Colman or those of Mrs. Cowley, or of Cumberland. The comedies of Goldsmith abound in humor and gayety, and those of Sheridan have an unintermitted fire of epigrams, a keen insight into the follies and weaknesses of society, and great ingenuity in inventing whimsical situations. Of the verse-writers in the time of Johnson's old age, Goldsmith has alone achieved immortality. "The Traveller" and "The Deserted Village" cannot be forgotten while the English tongue is remembered.

The foundations of a new school of poetry were already laid. Percy's "Reliques" and Macpherson's "Fingal" attracted great attention, and many minor poets followed.

The short career of the unhappy Chatterton (1752-1770) held out wonderful promise of genius.

Darwin, in his "Botanic Garden," went back to the mazes of didactic verse. Seattle's (1735-1803) "Minstrel" is the outpouring of a mind exquisitely poetical in feeling; it is a kind of autobiography or analytic narrative of the early growth of a poet's mind and heart, and is one of the most delightful poems in our language.

Opening with Goldsmith, our period closes with Cowper and Burns. The unequaled popularity of Cowper's (1731-1800) poems is owing, in part, to the rarity of good religious poetry, and also to their genuine force and originality. He unhesitatingly made poetry use, always when it was convenient, the familiar forms of common conversation, and he showed yet greater boldness by seeking to interest his readers in the scenes of everyday life. In spite of great faults, the effect of his works is such as only a genuine poet could have produced. His translation of the Iliad has the simplicity of the original, though wanting its warlike fervor, and portions of the Odyssey are rendered with exceeding felicity of poetic effect.

Our estimate of Cowper's poems is heightened by our love and pity for the poet, writing not for fame but for consolation, and uttering from the depths of a half-broken heart his reverent homage to the power of religious truth. Our affection is not colder, and our compassion is more profound, when we contemplate the agitated and erring life of Robert Burns (1759-1796), the Scottish peasant, who has given to the literature of the Anglo-Saxon race some of its most precious jewels, although all which this extraordinary man achieved was inadequate to the power and the vast variety of his endowments. It is on his songs that his fame rests most firmly, and no lyrics in any tongue have a more wonderful union of thrilling passion, melting tenderness, concentrated expressiveness of language, and apt and natural poetic fancy. But neither the song nor the higher kinds of lyrical verse could give scope to the qualities he has elsewhere shown; his aptness in representing the phases of human character, his genial breadth and keenness of humor, and his strength of creative imagination, indicate that if born under a more benignant star he might have been a second Chaucer.

5. THE NINETEENTH CENTURY.—In the illustrious band of poets who enriched the literature of England during the first generation of the present century, there are four who have gained greater fame than any others, and exercised greater influence on their contemporaries. These are Coleridge, Wordsworth, Scott, and Byron, who, though unlike, yet in respect of their ruling spirit and tendencies may be classed in pairs as they have been named; and all whose works call for exact scrutiny may be distributed into four groups. In the first of them stand Thomas Campbell and Robert Southey, dissimilar to each other, and differing as widely from their contemporaries. Campbell (1777-1844) employed an unusually delicate taste in elaborating his verses both in diction and melody. His "Pleasures of Hope" was written between youth and manhood, and "Gertrude of Wyoming," the latest of his productions worthy of him, appeared soon after his thirtieth year. His mind, deficient in manly vigor of thought, had worked itself out in the few first bursts of youthful emotion, but no one has clothed with more of romantic sweetness the feelings and fancies which people the fairy-land of early dreams, or thrown around the enchanted region a purer atmosphere of moral contemplation.

Southey (1774-1843), with an ethical tone higher and sterner than Campbell's, offers in other features a marked contrast to him. He is careless in details, and indulges no poetical reveries; he scorns sentimentalism, and throws off rapid sketches of human action with great pomp of imagery, but he seldom touches the key of the pathetic. In much of this he is the man of his age, but in other respects he is above it. He is the only poet of his clay who strove to emulate the great masters of epic song, and to give his works external symmetry of plan. He alone attempted to give poetry internal union, by making it the representation of one leading idea; a loftier theory of poetic art than that which ruled the irregular outbursts of Scott and Byron. But the aspiration was above the competency of the aspirer. He wanted spontaneous depth of sympathy; his emotion has the measured flow of the artificial canal, not the leaping gush of the river in its self-worn channel. In two of the three best poems he has founded the interest on supernatural agency of a kind which cannot command even momentary belief and the splendid panoramas of "Thalaba the Destroyer" pass away like the shadows of a magic lantern. In the "Curse of Kehama," he strives to interest us in the monstrous fables of the Hindoo mythology, and in "Roderick, the Last of the Goths," the story contains circumstances that deform the fairest proof the author gave of the practicability of his poetic theory.

The second group of poets, unless Moore find a place in it, will contain only Scott and Byron, who were in succession the most popular of all, and owed their popularity mainly to characteristics which they had in common. They are distinctively the poets of active life. They portray idealized resemblances of the scenes of reality, events which arise out of the universal relations of society, hopes, fears, and wishes which are open to the consciousness of all mankind. The originals of Scott were the romances of chivalry, and this example was applied by Byron to the construction of narratives founded on a different kind of sentiment. Scott, wearying of the narrow round that afforded him no scope for some of his best and strongest powers, turned aside to lavish them on his prose romances, and Byron, as his knowledge grew and his meditations became deeper, rose from Turkish tales to the later cantos of "Childe Harold."

Scott (1771-1832), in his poetical narratives, appealed to national sympathies through ennobling historic recollections. He painted the externals of scenery and manners with unrivaled picturesqueness, and embellished all that was generous and brave in the world of chivalry with an infectious enthusiasm. "The Lay of the Last Minstrel," a romance of border chivalry, has a more consistent unity than its successors, and is more faithful to the ancient models. "Marmion" seeks to combine the chivalrous romance with the metrical chronicle. "The Lady of the Lake" is a kind of romantic pastoral, and "Rokeby" is a Waverley novel in verse.

The moral faults of the poetry of Byron (1788-1824) became more glaring as he grew older. Starting with the carelessness of ill-trained youth in regard to most serious truths, he provoked censure without scruple, and was censured not without caprice; thus placed in a dangerous and false position, he hardened himself into a contempt for the most sacred laws of society, and although the closing scenes of his life give reason for a belief that purer and more elevated views were beginning to dawn upon his mind, he died before the amendment had found its way into his writings. He endeavored to inculcate lessons that are positively bad; his delinquency did not consist in choosing for representation scenes of violent passion and guilty horror, it lay deeper than in his theatrical fondness for identifying himself with his misanthropes, pirates, and seducers. He sinned more grievously still, against morality as against possibility, by mixing up, in one and the same character, the utmost extremes of vice and virtue, generosity and vindictiveness, of lofty heroism and actual grossness. But with other and great faults, he far excelled all the poets of his time in impassioned strength, varying from vehemence to pathos. He was excelled by few of them in his fine sense of the beautiful, and his combination of passion with beauty, standing unapproachable in his own day, has hardly ever been surpassed.

His tales, except "Parisina" and the "Prisoner of Chillon," rise less often than his other poems into that flow of poetic imagery, prompted by the loveliness of nature, which he had attempted in the two first cantos of "Childe Harold," and poured forth with added fullness of thought and emotion in the last two. "Manfred," with all its shortcomings, shows perhaps most adequately his poetic temperament; and his tragedies, though not worthy of the poet, are of all his works those which do most honor to the man.

The third section of this honored file of poets contains the names of Coleridge and Wordsworth; they are characteristically the poets of imagination, of reflection, and of a tone of sentiment that owes its attraction to its ideal elevation. Admired and emulated by a few zealous students, Coleridge became the poetical leader from the very beginning of his age, and effects yet wider have since been worked by the extended study of Wordsworth.

Coleridge (1772-1834) is the most original of the poets of his very original time, and among the most original of its thinkers. His most frequent tone of feeling is a kind of romantic tenderness or melancholy, often solemnized by an intense access of religious awe. This fine passion is breathed out most finely when it is associated with some of his airy glimpses of external nature, and his power of suggestive sketching is not more extraordinary than his immaculate taste and nervous precision of language. His images may be obscure, from the moonlight haze in which they float, but they are rarely so through faults of diction. It is disappointing to remember that this gifted man executed little more than fragments; his life ebbed away in the contemplation of undertakings still to be achieved, the result of weakness of will rather than of indolence. The romance of "Christabel," the most powerful of all his works, and the prompter of Scott and Byron, was thrown aside when scarce begun, and stands as an interrupted vision of mysterious adventures clothed in the most exquisite fancies. His tragedy of "Remorse" is full of poetic pictures; the "Ode to the Departing Year" shows his force of thought and moral earnestness; "Khubla Khan" represents in its gorgeous incoherence his singular power of lighting up landscapes with thrilling fancies; and "The Dark Ladye" is one of the most tender and romantic love-poems ever written.

The most obvious feature of Wordsworth (1770-1850) is the intense and unwearied delight which he takes in all the shapes and appearances of rural and mountain scenery. He is carried away by an almost passionate rapture when he broods over the grandeur and loveliness of the earth and air; his verse lingers with fond reluctance to depart on the wild flowers, the misty lake, the sound of the wailing blast, or the gleam of sunshine breaking through the passes among the hills, and the thoughts and feelings these objects suggest flow forth with an enthusiasm of expression which in a man less pious and rational might be interpreted as a raising of the inanimate world to a level with human dignity and intelligence. The tone which prevails in his contemplation of mortal act and suffering is a serene seriousness, on which there never breaks in anything rightly to be called passion; yet it often rises to an intensely solemn awe, and is not less often relieved by touches of a quiet pathos. Almost all his poems may be called poems of sentiment and reflection, and his own ambition was that of being worthy to be honored as a philosophical poet. His theory that the poet's function is limited to an exact representation of the real and the natural, a heresy which his own best poems triumphantly refute, often led him to triviality and meanness in the choice both of subjects and diction, and marred the beauty of many otherwise fine poems. A fascinating airiness and delicacy of conception prevail in these poems, and the tender sweetness of expression is often wonderfully touching. They were the effusions of early manhood, and the imperfect embodiments of a strength which found a freer outlet in prose. "Laodamia" and "Dion" are classical gems without a flaw; many of the sonnets unite original thought and poetic vividness with a perfection hardly to be surpassed; above all, "The Excursion" rolls on its thousands of blank verse lines with the soul-felt harmony of a divine hymn pealed forth from a cathedral organ. We forget the insignificance characterizing the plan, which embraces nothing but a three days' walk among the mountains, and we refuse to be aroused from our trance of meditative pleasure by the occasional tediousness of dissertation. "The Excursion" abounds in verses and phrases once heard never to be forgotten, and it contains trains of poetical musing through which the poet moves with a majestic fullness of reflection and imagination not paralleled, by very far, in anything else of which our century can boast.

Wilson, Shelley, and Keats make up the fourth poetical group. The principal poems of Professor Wilson (1785-1854) are the "Isle of Palms," a romance of shipwreck and solitude, full of rich pictures and delicate pathos, and the "City of the Plague," a series of dramatic scenes, representing with great depth of emotion a domestic tragedy from the plague of London.

Shelley was the pure apostle of a noble but ideal philanthropy; yet it is easy to separate his poetry from his philosophy, which, though hostile to existing conditions of society, is so ethereal, so imbued with love for everything noble, and yet so abstract and impracticable, that it is not likely to do much harm.

Keats poured forth with great power the dreams of his immature youth, and died in the belief that the radiant forms had been seen in vain. In native felicity of poetic adornment these two were the first minds of their time, but the inadequacy of their performance to their poetic faculties shows how needful to the production of effective poetry is a substratum of solid thought, of practical sense, and of manly and extensive sympathy.

If we would apprehend the fullness and firmness of the powers of Shelley (1792-1822) without remaining ignorant of his weakness, we might study the lyrical drama of "Prometheus Unbound," a marvelous galaxy of dazzling images and wildly touching sentiments, or the "Alastor," a scene in which the melancholy quiet of solitude is visited but by the despairing poet who lies down to die. We find here, instead of sympathy with ordinary and universal feelings, warmth for the abstract and unreal, or, when the poet's own unrest prompts, as in the "Stanzas Written in Dejection near Naples," a strain of lamentation which sounds like a passionate sigh. Instead of clearness of thinking, we find an indistinctness which sometimes amounts to the unintelligible. In the "Revolt of Islam," his most ambitious poem, it is often difficult to apprehend even the outlines of the story.

No youthful poet ever exhibited more thorough possession of those faculties that are the foundation of genius than Keats (1798-1820), and it is impossible to say what he might have been had he lived to become acquainted with himself and with mankind. It was said of his "Endymion" most truly, that no book could be more aptly used as a test to determine whether a reader has a genuine love for poetry. His works have no interest of story, no insight into human nature, no clear sequence of thought; they are the rapturous voice of youthful fancy, luxuriating in a world of beautiful unrealities.

It may be questioned whether Crabbe and Moore are entitled to rank with the poets already reviewed.

Crabbe's (1754-1832) "Metrical Tales," describing everyday life, are striking, natural, and sometimes very touching, but they are warmed by no kindly thoughts and elevated by nothing of ideality.

Moore (1780-1851), one of the most popular of English poets, will long be remembered for his songs, so melodious and so elegant in phrase. His fund of imagery is inexhaustible, but oftener ingenious than poetical. His Eastern romances in "Lalla Rookh," with all their occasional felicities, are not powerful poetic narratives. He was nowhere so successful as in his satirical effusions of comic rhyme, in which his fanciful ideas are prompted by a wit so gayly sharp, and expressed with a neatness and pointedness so unusual, that it is to be regretted that these pieces should be condemned to speedy forgetfulness, as they must be, from the temporary interest of their topics.

Among the works of the numerous minor poets, the tragedies of Joanna Baillie, with all their faults as plays, are noble additions to the literature, and the closest approach made in recent times to the merit of the old English drama. After these may be named the stately and imposing dramatic poems of Milman, Maturin's impassioned "Bertram," and the finely- conceived "Julian" of Miss Mitford.

Rogers and Bowles have given us much of pleasing and reflective sentiment, accompanied with great refinement of taste.

To another and more modern school belong Procter (Barry Cornwall) and Leigh Hunt; the former the purer in taste, the latter the more original and inventive.

Some of the lyrical and meditative poems of Walter Savage Landor are very beautiful; his longer poems sometimes delight but oftener puzzle us by their obscurity of thought and want of constructive skill.

The poems of Mrs. Hemans breathe a singularly attractive tone of romantic and melancholy sweetness, and many of the ballads and songs of Hogg and Cunningham will not soon be forgotten.

The poems of Kirke White are more pleasing than original. Montgomery has written, besides many other poems, not a few meditative and devotional pieces among the best in the language. Pollok's "Course of Time" is the immature work of a man of genius who possessed very imperfect cultivation. It is clumsy in plan and tediously dissertative, but it has passages of genuine poetry. The pleasing verses of Bishop Heber and the more recent effusions of Keble may also be named.

Of the Scotch poets, James Hogg (d. 1835) is distinguished for the beauty and creative power of his fairy tales, and Allan Cunningham (d. 1842) for the fervor, simplicity, and natural grace of his songs.

Edward Lytton Bulwer (Lord Lytton) deserves honorable mention for his high sense of the functions of poetic art; for the skill with which his dramas are constructed, and for the overflowing picturesqueness which fills his "King Arthur." Elliott, the Corn-Law Rhymer, is vigorous in conception, and Hood has a remarkable union of grotesque humor with depth of serious feeling.

Henry Taylor (b. 1800) deserves notice for the fine meditativeness and well-balanced judgment shown in his dramas and prose essays. "Philip Van Artevelde" is his masterpiece.

The poems of Arthur Hugh Clough (d. 1861) are worthy of attention, although it may be doubted if his genius reached its full development; in those of Milnes (Lord Houghton, b. 1809), emotion and intellect are harmoniously blended. R.H. Horne (d. 1884) is the author of some noble poems; Aytoun (d. 1865), of many ballads of note; and in Kingsley (d. 1875) the poetic faculty finds its best expression in his popular lyrics.

Alfred Tennyson (b. 1810) is by eminence the representative poet of his era. The central idea of his poetry is that of the dignity and efficiency of law in its widest sense and of the progress of the race. The elements which form his ideal of human character are self-reverence, self- knowledge, self-control, the recognition of a divine order, of one's own place in that order, and a faithful adhesion to the law of one's highest life. "In Memoriam" is his most characteristic work, distinctly a poem of this century, the great threnody of our language. The "Idylls of the King" present in epic form the Christian ideal of chivalry.

In Browning (b. 1812) the greatness and glory of man lie not in submission to law, but in infinite aspiration towards something higher than himself. He must perpetually grasp at things attainable by his highest striving, and, finding them unsatisfactory, he is urged on by an endless series of aspirations and endeavors. In his poetry strength of thought struggles through obscurity of expression, and he is at once the most original and unequal of living poets.

Elizabeth Barrett Browning (d. 1861) may be regarded as the representative of her sex in the present age. The instinct of worship, the religion of humanity, and a spiritual unity of zeal, love, and worship preside over her work.

To this period belong the writings of Mrs. Norton, Mrs. Blackwood, Mrs.
Crosland, Mary Howitt, and Eliza Cook.

FICTION.—Previous to the appearance of Scott's novels the department of prose writing had undergone an elevating process in the hands of Godwin, Miss Austen, Miss Porter, and Miss Edgeworth. "Waverley" appeared in 1814, and the series which followed with surprising rapidity obtained universal and unexampled popularity. The Waverley Novels are not merely love stories, but pictures of human life animated by sentiments which are cheerful and correct, and they exhibit history in a most effective light without degrading facts or falsifying them beyond the lawful stretch of poetical embellishment. These novels stand in literary value as far above all other prose works of fiction as those of Fielding stand above all others in the language except these.

The novels of Lockhart are strong in the representation of tragic passion. Wilson, in his "Lights and Shadows of Scottish Life," shows the visionary loveliness and pathos which appear in his poems, though they give no scope to those powers of sarcasm and humor which found expression elsewhere. Extremes in the tone of thought and feeling are shown in the despondent imagination of Mrs. Shelley and the coarse and shrewd humor of Galt. To this time belong Hope's "Anastasius," which unites reflectiveness with pathos, and the delightful scenes which Miss Mitford has constructed by embellishing the facts of English rural life.

Among the earlier novels of the time, those of Bulwer had more decidedly than the others the stamp of native genius. Though not always morally instructive, they have great force of serious passion, and show unusual skill of design. In some of his later works he rises into a much higher sphere of ethical contemplation. The novels of Theodore Hook, sparkling as they are, have no substance to endure long continuance, nor is there much promise of life in the showy and fluent tales of James, the sea-stories of Marryat, or the gay scenes of Lever. The novels and sketches of Mrs. Marsh and Mrs. Hall are pleasing and tasteful; Mrs. Trollope's portraits of character are rough and clever caricatures. In describing the lower departments of Irish life, Banim is the most original, Griffin weaker, and Carleton better than either. The novels of Disraeli are remarkable for their brilliant sketches of English life and their embodiment of political and social theories. Miss Martineau's stories are full of the writer's clearness and sagacity. Kingsley, the head of the Christian socialistic school, is the author of many romances, and the eloquent preacher of a more earnest and practical Christianity. The narrative sketches of Douglas Jerrold deserve a place among the speculative fictions of the day.

Charlotte Bronté (1816-1855) had consummate mastery of expression, and a perception of the depth of human nature that is only revealed through suffering experience. The works of her sister Emily show a powerful imagination, regulated by no consideration of beauty of proportion, or of artistic feeling.

Among those writers who aim at making the novel illustrate questions that agitate society most powerfully are the founders of a new school of novelists, Thackeray and Dickens (1812-1870). The former has given his pictures of society all that character they could receive from extraordinary skill of mental analysis, acute observation, and strength of sarcastic irony, but he has never been able to excite continuous and lively sympathy either by interesting incidents or by deep passion. Dickens has done more than all which Thackeray has left unattempted; while his painting of character is as vigorous and natural, his power of exciting emotion ranges with equal success from horror sometimes too intense, to melting pathos, and thence to a breadth of humor which degenerates into caricature. He cannot soar into the higher worlds of imagination, but he becomes strong, inventive, and affecting the moment his foot touches the firm ground of reality, and nowhere is he more at ease, more sharply observant, or more warmly sympathetic, than in scenes whose meanness might have disgusted, or whose moral foulness might have appalled. Of the later novelists, the names of Mrs. Craik (Miss Muloch) and Charles Reade (d. 1884) may be mentioned as having acquired a wide popularity.

HISTORY.—In history Niebuhr's masterly researches have communicated their spirit to the "Roman History" of Arnold; the history of Greece has assumed a new aspect in the hands of Thirlwall and Grote; and that of Grecian literature has been In part excellently related by Muir (d. 1860). Modern history has likewise been cultivated with great assiduity, and several works of great literary merit have appeared which are valuable as storehouses of research. Macaulay, in his great work, "The History of England," showed that history might be written as it had not been before, telling the national story with accuracy and force, making it as lively as a novel, through touches of individual interest and teaching precious truths with fascinating eloquence. Alison's "History of Europe" takes its place among the highest works of its kind. Carlyle's "History of the French Revolution" and "Life of Frederic the Great" are most picturesque, attractive, and original works. The History of the Norman Conquest of England is the most important work of Freeman. Buckle (d. 1882) in his Introduction to the projected History of Civilization in Europe reiterated the theory that all events depend upon the action of inevitable law.

CRITICISM AND REVIEWS.—In the art of criticism, Hallam's (d. 1859) "Introduction to the Literature of Europe in the Fifteenth, Sixteenth, and Seventeenth Centuries" has taken its place as a classical standard. Among the fragments of criticism, the most valuable are those of De Quincey (d. 1860). The essays of Macaulay (d. 1860) are among the most impressive of all the periodical papers of our century.

In Carlyle, a generous sentiment alternates with despondent gloom and passionate restlessness and inconsistency. But it is impossible to hear, without a deep sense of original power, the oracular voices that issue from the cell; enigmatical, like the ancient responses, and like them illuminating doubtful vaticination with flashes of wild and half poetic fantasy. His language and thoughts alike set aside hereditary rules, and are compounded of elements, English and German, and elements predominant over all, which no name would fit except that of the author.

Among numerous other writers may he mentioned the names of William and Mary Howitt, Isaac Taylor, Arthur Helps, and the brothers Hare, and in art-criticism the brilliant and paradoxical Ruskin (b. 1819) and the accomplished Mrs. Jameson (d. 1860).

The writings of Christopher North (Professor Wilson) are characterized by the quaintest humor and the most practical shrewdness combined with tender and passionate emotion (d. 1854). Those of Charles Lamb (d. 1835) it is impossible to describe intelligibly to those who have not read them. Some of his scenes are in sentiment, imagery, and style the most anomalous medleys by which readers were ever alternately perplexed and amused, moved and delighted.

No man of his time influenced social science so much as Jeremy Bentham (1748-1832). Of his immediate pupils James Mill is the ablest, Cobbett, a vigorous and idiomatic writer of English, in the course of his long life advocated all varieties of political principle. In political science we have the accurate McCulloch; Malthus, known through his Theory of Population; and Ricardo, the most original thinker in science since Adam Smith.

Foster (1770-1843) had originality and a wider grasp of mind than the other two. Hall (1761-1831) is more eloquent, but in oratorical power Chalmers (1780-1847) was one of the great men of our century, which has produced few comparable to him in original keenness of intuition, and who combined so much power of thought with so much power of impressive communication.

In philosophy, Dugald Stewart (1753-1828) is one of the most attractive writers. Thomas Brown (1778-1820), his successor in the chair of Edinburgh, exhibited a subtlety of thought hardly ever exceeded in the history of philosophy; probably no writings on mental philosophy were ever so popular.

Equally worthy of a place in the annals of their era are those dissertations on the History of Philosophy contributed to the Encyclopaedia Britannica by Playfair, Leslie, and Mackintosh, and a system of Ethics by Bentham. Among the speculations in mental philosophy must also be placed a group of interesting treatises on the "Theory of the Sublime and Beautiful," a matter deeply important to poetry and the other fine arts, represented by Alison's essays on Taste, Jeffrey's on Beauty, and by contributions from Stewart, Thomas Brown, and Payne Knight.

In political economy John Mill is one of the most powerful and original minds of the nineteenth century. The pure sciences of mind have been enriched by important accessions; logic has been vigorously cultivated in two departments; on the one hand by Mill and Whewell, the former following the tendencies of Locke and Hobbes, the latter that of the German school; on the other hand, Archbishop Whately has expounded the Aristotelian system with clearness and sagacity, and De Morgan has attempted to supply certain deficiencies in the old analysis. But by far the greatest metaphysician who has appeared in the British empire during the present century is Sir William Hamilton. In his union of powerful thinking with profound and varied erudition, he stands higher, perhaps, than any other man whose name is preserved in the annals of modern speculation.

REVIEWS AND MAGAZINES.—A most curious and important fact in the literary history of the age is the prominence acquired by the leading Reviews and Magazines. Their high position was secured and their power founded beyond the possibility of overturn by the earliest of the series, the "Edinburgh Review." Commenced in 1802, it was placed immediately under the editorship of Francis Jeffrey, who conducted it till 1829. In the earlier part of its history there were not many distinguished men of letters in the empire who did not furnish something to its contents; among others were Sir Walter Scott, Lord Brougham, Malthus, Playfair, Mackintosh, and Sydney Smith. Differences of political opinion led to the establishment of the "London Quarterly," which advocated Tory principles, the Edinburgh being the organ of the Whigs. Its editors were first Gifford and then Lockhart, and it numbered among its contributors many of the most famous men of the time. The "Westminster Review" was established in 1825 as the organ of Jeremy Bentham and his disciples.

"Blackwood's Magazine," begun 1817, has contained articles of the highest literary merit. It was the unflinching and idolatrous advocate of Wordsworth, and some of its writers were the first translators of German poetry and the most active introducers of German taste and laws in poetical criticism.

The best efforts in literary criticism—the most brilliant department of recent literature, have been with few exceptions essays in the periodicals. Among the essayists the name of Francis Jeffrey (1773-1850) stands highest. In his essays selected for republication we find hardly any branch of general knowledge untouched, and while he treated none without throwing on them some brilliant ray of light, he contributed to many of them truths alike valuable and original. His criticisms on Poetry are flowing and spirited, glittering with a gay wit and an ever-ready fancy, and often blossoming into exquisite felicities of diction. While Macaulay uses poets and their works as hints for constructing picturesque dissertations on man and society, and while poetical reading prompts Wilson to enthusiastic bursts of original poetry, Jeffrey, fervid in his admiration of genius, but conscientiously stern in his respect for art, tries poetry by its own laws, and his writings are invaluable to those who desire to learn the principles of poetical criticism. A high place among the critical essayists must also be assigned to William Hazlitt, who in his lectures and elsewhere did manful service towards reviving the study of ancient poetry, and who prompts to study and speculation all readers, and not the least those who hesitate to accept his critical opinions.

PHYSICAL SCIENCE.—The spirit of philosophical inquiry and discovery is increasing in England, and is everywhere accompanied by a growing tendency to popularize all branches of science, and to bring them before the general mind in an attractive form.

The physical sciences have made marvelous advances; many brilliant discoveries have been made during the present and last generation, and many scientific men have brought much power of mind to bear on questions lying apart from their principal studies; among them are Sir David Brewster, Sir John Herschel, Sir John Playfair, Sir Charles Lyell, Hugh Miller, Buckland, and Professor Whewell.

SINCE 1860.

1. POETRY.—Matthew Arnold (b. 1822) has written some of the most refined verse of our day, and among critics holds the first rank. Algernon Swinburne (b. 1837) excels all living poets in his marvelous gift of rhythm and command over the resources of the language. Dante Rossetti (d. 1883) had great lyrical power; Robert Buchanan has large freedom and originality of style; Edwin Arnold has extraordinary popularity in the United States for his remarkable poem, "The Light of Asia," and for other poems on Oriental subjects; Lord Lytton ("Owen Meredith") has a place of honor among poets as the author of "Lucile" and other poems; William Morris writes in the choicest fashion of romantic narrative verse. Among other poets of the present generation whose writings are marked by excellences of various kinds are Edmund Gosse, Austin Dobson, Cosmo Monkhonse, Andrew Lang, Philip Marston, and Arthur O'Shaughnessy.

The poems of Jean Ingelow have a merited popularity; those of Adelaide Procter (d. 1864) are pervaded by a beautiful spirit of faith and hope; Christina Rossetti shows great originality and deep and serious feeling. The lyrics and dramas of Augusta Webster are marked by strength and breadth of thought; the ballads, sonnets, and other poems of Mary Robinson show that she possesses the true gift of song.

2. FICTION.—The writings of Mrs. Lewes, "George Eliot" (1815-1880), are the work of a woman of rare genius, and place her among the greatest novelists England has produced. They are in sympathy with all the varieties of human character, and written in a spirit of humanity that is allied with every honest aspiration.

Anthony Trollope (d. 1884) has produced many works remarkable for their
accurate pictures of English life and character. George Macdonald and
Wilkie Collins are novelists of great merit, as are William Black, Richard
Blackmore, Mrs. Oliphant, Edmund Yates, Justin McCarthy.

3. SCIENCE.—Herbert Spencer (b. 1820) as early as 1852 advanced the theory of the natural and gradual coalition of organic life upon this globe. In 1855, in his "Principles of Psychology," he gave a new exposition of the laws of mind, based upon this principle, and held that it is by experience, registered in the slowly perfecting nervous system, that the mental faculties have been gradually evolved through long courses of descent, each generation inheriting all that had been previously gained, and adding its own increment to the sum of progress; that all knowledge, and even the faculties of knowing, originate in experience, but that the primary elements of thought are a priori intuitions to the individual derived from ancestral experience. Thus the intuitional and experience hypotheses, over which philosophers had so long disputed, were here for the first time reconciled. This work, the first permanent scientific result of the application of the law of evolution, formed a turning-point in the thought of the scientific world. Spencer's prospectus of a philosophical system, in which the principles of evolution were applied to the subjects of life, mind, society, and morals, appeared in 1858, maturely elaborated in its scientific proofs and applications, thus preceding the works of other evolutionary writers, the most distinguished of whom, Charles Darwin (1809-1883), has been more identified in the popular mind with the theories of evolution than Spencer himself. The writings of Darwin have had a wider influence and have been the subject of more controversy than those of any other contemporary writer. In his "Origin of Species" he accounts for the diversities of life on our globe by means of continuous development, without the intervention of special creative fiats at the origin of each species, and to this organic evolution he added the important principle of natural selection. He may be regarded as the great reformer of biology and the most distinguished naturalist of the age. Tyndall (b. 1810) has done more than any other writer to popularize great scientific truths. Huxley (b. 1825) stands foremost among physiologists and naturalists.

Among numerous other writers distinguished in various branches of science
a few only can be here named. Walter Bagehot writes on Political Society;
Alexander Bain on Mind and Body; Henry Maudsley on Brain and Mind; Norman
Lockyer on Spectrum Analysis; and Sir John Lubbock on Natural History.

4. MISCELLANEOUS.—The most distinguished historian of the times is James Anthony Froude (b. 1818), who, in his "Short Studies," shows the same vigor of thought and power of description that render his history so fascinating. The histories of John Richard Green are valuable for their original research, and have a wide celebrity. Max Müller has rendered important services to the sciences of Philology and Ethnology, by his researches in Oriental languages and literatures. Lecky is eminent for his history of "Rationalism in Europe" and "History of Morals." Leslie Stephen, John Morley, and Addington Symonds are distinguished in various departments of criticism and history. Justin McCarthy, in his "History of our own Times," has skillfully presented an intellectual panorama of the period.

Hamerton writes on Art and on general topics with keen and critical observation. Lewes (d. 1878) is the able expounder of the philosophy of Comte. Frances Power Cobbe, in her "Intuitive Morals" and other works, shows strong reasoning powers and great earnestness of purpose. John Stuart Mill (d. 1873) holds a high place as a writer on Political Economy, Liberty, and on the Subjection of Women. The periodicals and newspapers of the day show remarkable intellectual ability, and represent the best contemporary thought in England in all departments.

AMERICAN LITERATURE.

THE COLONIAL PERIOD.—1. The Seventeenth Century. George Sandys; The Bay Psalm Book; Anne Bradstreet, John Eliot, and Cotton Mather.—2. From 1700 to 1770; Jonathan Edwards, Benjamin Franklin, Cadwallader Colden.

FIRST AMERICAN PERIOD FROM 1771 TO 1820.—1. Statesmen and Political
Writers: Washington, Jefferson, Hamilton. The Federalist: Jay, Madison,
Marshall, Fisher Ames, and others.—2. The Poets: Freneau, Trumbull,
Hopkinson, Barlow, Clifton, and Dwight.—3. Writers in other Departments:
Bellamy, Hopkins, Dwight, and Bishop White. Rush, McClurg, Lindley Murray,
Charles Brockden Brown. Ramsay, Graydon. Count Rumford, Wirt, Ledyard,
Pinkney, and Pike.

SECOND AMERICAN PERIOD FROM 1820 TO 1860.—1. History, Biography, and
Travels: Bancroft, Prescott, Motley, Godwin, Ticknor, Schoolcraft,
Hildreth, Sparks, Irving, Headley, Stephens, Kane, Squier, Perry, Lynch,
Taylor, and others.—2. Oratory: Webster, Clay, Calhoun, Benton, Everett,
and others.—3. Fiction: Cooper, Irving, Willis, Hawthorne, Poe, Simms,
Mrs. Stowe, and others.—4. Poetry: Bryant, Dana, Halleck, Longfellow,
Willis, Lowell, Allston, Hillhouse, Drake, Whittier, Hoffman, and others.
—5. The Transcendental Movement in New England.—6. Miscellaneous
Writings: Whipple, Tuckerman, Curtis, Briggs, Prentice, and others.—7.
Encyclopedias, Dictionaries, and Educational Books. The Encyclopaedia
Americana. The New American Cyclopaedia. Allibone, Griswold, Duyckinck,
Webster, Worcester, Anthon, Felton, Barnard, and others.—8. Theology,
Philosophy, Economy, and Jurisprudence: Stuart, Robinson, Wayland, Barnes,
Channing, Parker. Tappan, Henry, Hickok, Haven. Carey, Kent, Wheaton,
Story, Livingston, Lawrence, Bouvier.—9. Natural Sciences: Franklin,
Morse, Fulton, Silliman, Dana, Hitchcock, Rogers, Bowditch, Peirce, Bache,
Holbrook, Audubon, Morton, Gliddon, Maury, and others.—10. Foreign
Writers: Paine, Witherspoon, Rowson, Priestley, Wilson, Agassiz, Guyot,
Mrs. Robinson, Gurowski, and others.—11. Newspapers and Periodicals.
—12. Since 1860.

THE COLONIAL PERIOD (1640-1770).

1. THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY.—Of all the nations which have sprung into existence through the medium of European colonization, since the discovery of America, the United States is the only one having a literature of its own creation, and containing original works of a high order. Its earliest productions, however, are of little value; they belong not to a period of literary leisure, but to one of trial and danger, when the colonist was forced to contend with a savage enemy, a rude soil, and all the privations of pioneer life. It was not until the spirit of freedom began to influence the national character, that the literature of the colonies assumed a distinctive form, although its earliest productions are not without value as marking its subsequent development.

Among the bold spirits who, with Captain John Smith, braved the pestilential swamps and wily Indians of Virginia, there were some lovers of literature, the most prominent of whom was George Sandys, who translated Ovid's "Metamorphoses" on the banks of James River. The work, published in London in 1620, was dedicated to Charles I. and received the commendations of Pope and Dryden. The Puritans, too, carried a love of letters with them to the shores of New England, and their literary productions, like their colony, took a far more lasting root than did those of their more southern brethren. The intellect of the colonies first developed itself in a theological form, which was the natural consequence of emigration, induced by difference of religious opinion, the free scope afforded for discussion, and the variety of creeds represented by the different races who thus met on a common soil. The clergy, also, were the best educated and the most influential class, and the colonial era therefore boasted chiefly a theological literature, though for the most part controversial and fugitive. While there is no want of learning or reasoning power in the tracts of many of the theologians of that day, they are now chiefly referred to by the antiquarian or the curious student of divinity.

The first hook printed in the colonies was the "Bay Psalm Book," which appeared in 1640; it was reprinted in England, where it passed through seventy editions, and retained its popularity for more than a century, although it was not strictly original, and was devoid of literary merit.

This was followed by a volume of original poems, by Mrs. Anne Bradstreet (d. 1672); though not above mediocrity, these effusions are chaste in language and not altogether insipid in ideas. A few years later, John Eliot (1604-1690), the famous Apostle to the Indians, published a version of the Psalms and of the Old and New Testaments in the Indian tongue, which was the first Bible printed in America. The next production of value was a "Concordance of the Scriptures," by John Newman (d. 1663), compiled by the light of pine knots in one of the frontier settlements of New England; the first work of its kind, and for more than a century the most perfect. Cotton Mather (d. 1728) was one of the most learned men of his age, and one of its representative writers. His principal work is the "Magnalia Christi Americana," an ecclesiastical history of New England, from 1620 to 1698, including the civil history of the times, several biographies, and an account of the Indian wars, and of New England witchcraft. Eliot and Mather were the most prominent colonial writers down to 1700.

2. FROM 1700 TO 1770.—From the year 1700 to the breaking out of the Revolution, it was the custom of many of the colonists to send their sons to England to be educated. Yale College and other institutions of learning were established at home, from which many eminent scholars graduated, and, although it was the fashion of the day to imitate the writers of the time of Queen Anne and the two Georges, the productions of this age exhibit a manly vigor of thought, and mark a transition from the theological to the more purely literary era of American authorship.

Jonathan Edwards (1703-1785) was the first native writer who gave unequivocal evidence of great reasoning power and originality of thought; he may not unworthily be styled the first man of the world during the second quarter of the eighteenth century; and as a theologian, Dr. Chalmers and Robert Hall declare him to have been the greatest in all Christian ages. Of the works of Edwards, consisting of diaries, discourses, and treatises, that on "The Will" is the most celebrated.

Benjamin Franklin (1706-1790) was equally illustrious in statesmanship and philosophy. The style of his political and philosophical writings is admirable for its simplicity, clearness, precision, and condensation; and that of his letters and essays has all the wit and elegance that characterize the best writers of Queen Anne's time. His autobiography is one of the most pleasing compositions in the English language, and his moral writings have had a powerful influence on the character of the American people.

From the early youth of Franklin until about the year 1770, general literature received much attention, and numerous productions of merit both in prose and verse appeared, which, if not decidedly great, were interesting for the progress they displayed. Many practical minds devoted themselves to colonial history, and their labors have been of great value to subsequent historians. Among these historical writings, those of Cadwallader Colden (1688-1776) take the first rank. As we approach the exciting dawn of the Revolution, the growing independence of thought becomes more and more manifest.

FIRST AMERICAN PERIOD (1770-1820).

1. STATESMEN AND POLITICAL WRITERS.—Among the causes which rapidly developed literature and eloquence in the colonies, the most important were the oppressions of the mother country, at first silently endured, then met with murmurs of dissatisfaction, and finally with manful and boldly-expressed opposition. Speeches and pamphlets were the weapons of attack, and treating as they did upon subjects affecting the individual liberty of every citizen, they had a powerful influence on the public mind, and went far towards severing that mental reliance upon Europe which American authorship is now so rapidly consummating. The conventionalism of European literature was cast aside, and the first fruits of native genius appeared. The public documents of the principal statesmen of the age of the Revolution were declared by Lord Chatham to equal the finest specimens of Greek or Roman wisdom. The historical correspondence of this period constitutes a remarkable portion of American literature, and is valuable not only for its high qualities of wisdom and patriotism, but for its graces of expression and felicitous illustration. The letters of Washington, Adams, Jefferson, Franklin, Jay, Morris, Hamilton, and many of their compatriots, possess a permanent literary value aside from that which they derive from their authorship and the gravity of their subjects.

The speeches of many of the great orators of the age of the Revolution are not preserved, and are known only by tradition. Of the eloquence of Otis, which was described as "flames of fire," there are but a few meagre reports; the passionate appeals of Patrick Henry and of the elder Adams, which "moved the hearers from their seats," and the resistless declamation of Pinkney and Rutledge, are preserved only in the history of the effects which these orators produced.

The writings of Washington (1732-1799), produced chiefly in the camp surrounded by the din of arms, are remarkable for clearness of expression, force of language, and a tone of lofty patriotism. They are second to none of similar character in any nation, and they display powers which, had they been devoted to literature, would have achieved a position of no secondary character.

Jefferson (1743-1826) early published a "Summary View of the Rights of British America," which passed through several editions in London, under the supervision of Burke. His "Notes on Virginia" is still a standard work, and his varied and extensive correspondence is a valuable contribution to American political history.

Hamilton (1757-1804) was one of the most remarkable men of the time, and to his profound sagacity the country was chiefly indebted for a regulated currency and an established credit after the conclusion of the war. During a life of varied and absorbing occupation as a soldier, lawyer, and statesman, he found time to record his principles; and his writings, full of energy and sound sense, are noble in tone, and deep in wisdom and insight. "The Federalist," a joint production of Hamilton, Madison, and Jay, exhibits a profundity of research and an acuteness of understanding which would do honor to the most illustrious statesmen of any age. The name of Madison (1751-1836) is one of the most prominent in the history of the country, and his writings, chiefly on political, constitutional, and historical subjects, are of extraordinary value to the student in history and political philosophy.

Marshall (1755-1835) was for thirty-five years chief-justice of the Supreme Court of the United States; a court, the powers of which are greater than were ever before confided to a judicial tribunal. Determining, without appeal, its own jurisdiction and that of the legislative and executive departments, this court is not merely the highest estate in the country, but it settles and continually moulds the constitution of the government. To the duties of his office, Judge Marshall brought a quickness of conception commensurate with their difficulty, and the spirit and strength of one capable of ministering to the development of a nation. The vessel of state, it has been said, was launched by the patriotism of many; the chart of her course was designed chiefly by Hamilton; but when the voyage was begun, the eye that observed, the head that reckoned, and the hand that compelled the ship to keep her course amid tempests without, and threats of mutiny within, were those of the great chief-justice, whom posterity will reverence as one of the founders of the nation. Marshall's "Life of Washington" is a faithful and conscientious narrative, written in a clear, unpretending style, and possesses much literary merit.

Fisher Ames (1758-1808), one of the leaders of the federal party during the administration of Washington, was equally admired for his learning and eloquence; although, owing to the temporary interest of many of the subjects on which he wrote, his reputation has somewhat declined.

Among other writers and orators of the age of the Revolution were Warren, Adams, and Otis, Patrick Henry, Rutledge, Livingston, Drayton, Quincy, Dickinson, and numerous firm and gifted men, who, by their logical and earnest appeals roused the country to the assertion of its rights and gave a wise direction to the power they thus evoked.

2. THE POETS.—One of the most distinguished poets of the Age of the Revolution was Philip Freneau (1752-1832). Although many of his compositions which had great political effect at the time they were written have little merit, or relate to forgotten events, enough remains to show that he was not wanting in genius and enthusiasm.

John Trumbull (1750-1831) was the author of "McFingal," a humorous poem in the style of Butler's Hudibras, the object of which was to render ludicrous the zeal and logic of the tories. There is no contemporaneous record which supplies so vivid a representation of the manners of the age, and the habits and modes of thinking that then prevailed. The popularity of McFingal was extraordinary, and it had an important influence on the great events of the time. Trumbull was a tutor in Yale College, and attempted to introduce an improved course of study and discipline into the institution, which met with much opposition. His most finished poem, "The Progress of Dullness," was hardly less serviceable to the cause of education than his McFingal was to that of liberty. Francis Hopkinson (1738-1791), another wit of the Revolution, may be ranked beside Trumbull for his efficiency in the national cause.

Joel Barlow (1755-1812) as an author was among the first of his time. His principal work is the "Columbiad," an epic poem which, with many faults, has occasional bursts of patriotism and true eloquence, which should preserve it from oblivion. His pleasing poem celebrating "Hasty Pudding" has gained a more extensive popularity. The few songs of William Clifton (1772-1799), a more original and vigorous poet, are imbued with the true spirit of lyric poetry.

Timothy Dwight (1752-1819) was the author of "Greenfield Hill," the "Conquest of Canaan," an epic poem, and several other productions; but his fame rests chiefly on his merits as a theologian, in which department he had few if any equals. Many other names might be cited, but none of commanding excellence.

3. WRITERS IN OTHER DEPARTMENTS.—Although in the period immediately succeeding the Revolution there was a strong tendency to political discussion, not a few writers found exercise in other departments. Theology had its able expounders in Bellamy, Hopkins, Dwight, and Bishop White. Barton merits especial notice for his work on botany, and for his ethnological investigations concerning the Indian race, and Drs. Rush and McClurg were eminent in various departments of medical science. In 1795, Lindley Murray (1745-1826) published his English Grammar, which for a long time held its place as the best work of the kind in the language.

It should be borne in mind, however, that during this period very few writers devoted themselves exclusively to literature. Charles Brockden Brown (1771-1810) was the first purely professional author. His chief productions are two works of fiction, "Wieland" and "Arthur Mervyn," which from their merit, and as the first of American creations in the world of romance, were favorably received, and early attracted attention in England.

One of the earliest laborers in the field of history was David Ramsay (1749-1815), and his numerous works are monuments of his unwearied research and patient labor for the public good and the honor of his country. Graydon's (1742-1818) "Memoirs of his own Times, with Reminiscences of Men and Events of the Revolution," illustrates the most interesting and important period of our history, and combines the various excellences of style, scholarship, and impartiality.

Benjamin Thompson (1753-1814), better known by his title of Count Rumford, acquired an extensive reputation in the scientific world for his various philosophical improvements in private and political economy. William Wirt was the author of the "Letters of the British Spy," which derives its interest from its descriptions and notices of individuals. His "Life of Patrick Henry" is a finished piece of biography, surpassed by few works of its kind in elegance of style and force of narrative.

John Ledyard (1751-1788), who died in Egypt while preparing for the exploration of Central Africa, was the first important contributor to the literature of travel, in America, and his journals, abounding in pleasing description and truthful narratives, have become classic in this department of letters, A captivating book of travels in France, by Lieutenant Pinkney, which appeared in 1809, created such a sensation in England, that Leigh Hunt tells us it set all the idle world going to France. Zebulon Pike, under the auspices of the government, published the first book ever written on the country between the Mississippi and the Rocky Mountains.

SECOND AMERICAN PERIOD (1820-1860).

1. HISTORY, BIOGRAPHY, AND TRAVELS.—From the year 1820, American literature may be considered as fairly launched upon its national career. The early laborers in the field had immense difficulties to encounter from ridicule abroad and want of appreciation at home; but they at last succeeded in dispelling all doubts as to the capability of the American mind for the exercise of original power, and to some extent diverted public thought from Europe as an exclusive source of mental supplies. The era we are now to consider will be found prolific in works of merit, and the expansion of mind will be seen to have kept pace with the political, social, and commercial progress of the nation. No subject of human knowledge has been overlooked; many European works have been elucidated by the fresh light of the American mind; a new style of thought has been developed; new scenes have been opened to the world, and Europe is receiving compensation in kind for the intellectual treasures she has heretofore sent to America.

The marvelous growth of the United States, its relations to the past and future, and to the great problem of humanity, render its history one of the most suggestive episodes in the annals of the world, and give to it a universal as well as a special dignity. Justly interpreted, it is the practical demonstration of principles which the noblest spirits of England advocated with their pens, and often sealed with their blood. The early colonists were familiar with the responsibilities and progressive tendency of liberal institutions, and in achieving the Revolution they only carried out what had long existed in idea, and actualized the views of Sidney and his illustrious compeers. Through this intimate relation with the past of the Old World, and as initiative to its future self-enfranchisement, our history daily unfolds new meaning and increases in importance and interest. It is only within the last quarter of a century, however, that this theme has found any adequate illustration. Before that time the labors of American historians had been chiefly confined to the collection of materials, the unadorned record of facts which rarely derived any charm from the graces of style or the resources of philosophy.

The most successful attempt to reduce the chaotic but rich materials of American history to order, beauty, and moral significance has been made by Bancroft (b. 1800), who has brought to the work not only talent and scholarship of high order, but an earnest sympathy with the spirit of the age he was to illustrate. In sentiment and principle his history is thoroughly American, although in its style and philosophy it has that broad and eclectic spirit appropriate to the general interest of the subject, and the enlightened sympathies of the age. Unwearied and patient in research, discriminating and judicious in the choice of authorities, and possessed of all the qualities required to fuse into a vital unity the narrative thus carefully gleaned, Bancroft has written the most accurate and philosophical account that has been given of the United States.

The works of Prescott (1796-1858) are among the finest models of historical composition, and they breathe freely the spirit of our liberal institutions. His "History of Ferdinand and Isabella," of the "Conquest of Mexico," and the "Conquest of Peru," unite all the fascination of romantic fiction with the grave interest of authentic events. The picturesque and romantic character of his subjects, the harmony and beauty of his style, the dramatic interest of his narrative, and the careful research which renders his works as valuable for their accuracy as they are attractive for their style, have given Prescott's histories a brilliant and extensive reputation; and it is a matter of deep regret that his last and crowning work, "The History of Philip II.," should remain uncompleted. Another important contribution to the literature of the country is Motley's (1814- 1877) "History of the Rise of the Dutch Republic," a work distinguished for its historical accuracy, philosophical breadth of treatment, and clearness and vigor of style. The narrative proceeds with a steady and easy flow, and the scenes it traces are portrayed with the hand of a master; while the whole work is pervaded by a spirit of humanity and a genuine sympathy with liberty. Parke Godwin's "History of France" is remarkable for its combination of deep research, picturesqueness of style; and John Poster Kirk is the author of a valuable history of Charles the Bold.

Ticknor's (1791-1871) "History of Spanish Literature," as an intellectual achievement, ranks with the best productions of its kind, and is everywhere regarded by scholars as a standard authority. It is thoroughly penetrated with the true Castilian spirit, and is a complete record of Spanish civilization, both social and intellectual, equally interesting to the general reader and to the student of civil history. It has been translated into several languages.

Henry R. Schoolcraft has devoted much time to researches among the Indian tribes of North America, and embodied the result of his labors in many volumes, containing their traditions, and the most interesting facts of their history. Catlin's "Notes on the Manners, Customs, and Conditions of the North American Indians," though without literary pretensions or literary merit; fills an important place in ethnological literature. Another work of a more historical character is "The History of the Indian Tribes of North America," the joint production of Hall and McKinney. Bradford's "American Antiquities and Researches into the Origin of the Red Race" is also an able and instructive work. In Hildreth's "History of the United States," rhetorical grace and effect give way to a plain narrative confined to facts gleaned with great care and conscientiousness. The "Field-Book of the Revolution," by Lossing, who has visited all the scenes of that memorable war, and delineated them with pen and pencil, is a work which finds its way to all the school libraries of the country. Cooper's "Naval History of the United States" abounds in picturesque and thrilling descriptions of naval warfare, and is one of the most characteristic histories, both in regard to style and subject, yet produced in America.

S. G. Goodrich (1793-1860), who, under the name of Peter Parley, has acquired an extensive popularity in England and the United States, was the pioneer in the important reform of rendering historical school-books attractive, and his numerous works occupy a prominent place in the literature designed for the young. Two other able writers in this department are John S.C. and Jacob Abbott.

Among the numerous local and special histories, valuable for their
correctness and literary merit, are Brodhead's "History of New York,"
Palfrey's and Elliott's Histories of New England, Trumbull's "History of
Connecticut," Hawks's "History of North Carolina," and Dr. Francis's
"Historical Sketches."

To the department of Biography, Jared Sparks has made many valuable contributions. Washington Irving's "Life and Voyages of Columbus" and "Life of Washington" have gained a popularity as extensive as the fame of this charming writer. Mrs. Kirkland, also, has written a popular "Life of Washington." The biographies and histories of J.T. Headley are remarkable for a vivacity and energy, which have given them great popularity. The "Biographical and Historical Studies" of G.W. Greene, Randall's "Life of Jefferson," Parton's Biographies of Aaron Burr and other celebrated men, Mrs. Ellet's "Women of the Revolution" and "Women Artists in all Ages," and Mrs. Hale's "Sketches of Distinguished Women in all Ages," are among the numerous works belonging to this department.

The restlessness of the American character finds a mode of expression in the love of travel and adventure, and within the last thirty years no nation has contributed to literature more interesting books of travel than the United States. Flint's "Wanderings in the Valley of the Mississippi," Schoolcraft's "Discoveries and Adventures in the Northwest," Irving's "Astoria," and Fremont's Reports are instructive and entertaining accounts of the West. The "Incidents of Travel" of John L. Stephens (1805-1857) has had remarkable success in Europe as well as in this country. The adventurous Arctic explorations of E.K. Kane (1822-1857) have elicited universal admiration for the interest of their descriptions and for the heroism and indomitable energy of the writer. These narratives have been followed by those of Hayes in the same field of adventure. The scientific explorations of E.G. Squier have thrown new light on the antiquities and ethnology of the aboriginal tribes of America. Wilkes's "Narrative of the United States Exploring Expedition" and Perry's "Narrative of an Expedition to Japan" are full of scientific and general information. Lynch's "Exploration of the Dead Sea" and Herndon's "Valley of the Amazon" belong to the same class. Bartlett's "Explorations in Texas and New Mexico" is interesting from the accuracy of its descriptions and the novelty of the scenes it describes. Among the numerous other entertaining books of travel in foreign countries are those of Bayard Taylor, who has left few parts of the world unvisited; Dana's "Two Years Before the Mast;" Curtis's "Nile Notes;" Norman's "Cities of Yucatan;" Dix's "Winter in Madeira;" Brace's "Hungary," "Home Life in Germany," and "Norse Folk;" Olmsted's "Travels in the Seaboard Slave States," and other works; Ross Browne's "Notes," Prime's "Boat" and "Tent Life," and "Letters of Irenaeus;" Slidell's "Year in Spain;" Willis's "Pencillings by the Way;" Hillard's "Six Months in Italy" and "Letters;" "Memories" and "Souvenirs," by Catherine M. Sedgwick, Sarah Haight, Harriet Beecher Stowe, Grace Greenwood, and Octavia Walton Le Vert.

2. ORATORY.—The public speeches of a nation's chief legislators are shining landmarks of its policy and lucid developments of the character and genius of its institutions. Of the statesmen of the present century, the most eminent are Webster, Clay, and Calhoun. Daniel Webster (1782- 1852) is acknowledged to be one of the greatest men America has produced. His speeches and forensic arguments constitute a characteristic as well as an intrinsically valuable and interesting portion of our native literature, and some of his orations on particular occasions are everywhere recognized as among the greatest instances of genius in this branch of letters to be met with in modern times. The style of Webster is remarkable for its clearness and impressiveness, and rises occasionally to absolute grandeur. His dignity of expression, breadth and force of thought realize the ideal of a republican statesman; his writings, independent of their literary merit, are invaluable for the nationality of their tone and spirit.

The speeches of Henry Clay (1777-1852) are distinguished by a sincerity and warmth which were characteristic of the man, who united the gentlest affections with the pride of the haughtiest manhood. His style of oratory, full, flowing, and sensuous, was modulated by a voice of sustained power and sweetness and a heart of chivalrous courtesy, and his eloquence reached the heart of the whole nation.

The style of John C. Calhoun (1782-1850) was terse and condensed, and his eloquence, though sometimes impassioned, was always severe. He had great skill as a dialectician and remarkable power of analysis, and his works will have a permanent place in American literature. The writings and speeches of John Quincy Adams (1769-1848) are distinguished by universality of knowledge and independence of judgment, and they are repositories of rich materials for the historian and political philosopher. Benton's (1783-1858) "Thirty Years' View" of the working of the American government is a succession of historical pictures which will increase in value as the scenes they portray become more distant. Edward Everett (1794-1865), as an orator, has few living equals, and his occasional addresses and orations have become permanent memorials of many important occasions of public interest. Of the numerous other orators, eminent as rhetoricians or debaters, a few only can be named; among them are Legaré, Randolph, Choate, Sumner, Phillips, Preston, and Prentiss.

3. FICTION.—Romantic fiction found its first national development in the writings of James Fenimore Cooper (1789-1851), and through his works American literature first became widely known in Europe. His nautical and Indian tales; his delineations of the American mind in its adventurous character, and his vivid pictures of the aborigines, and of forest and frontier life, from their freshness, power, and novelty, attracted universal attention, and were translated into the principal European languages as soon as they appeared. "The Spy," "The Pioneers," "The Last of the Mohicans," and numerous other productions of Cooper, must hold a lasting place in English literature.

The genial and refined humor of Washington Irving (1783-1859), his lively fancy and poetic imagination, have made his name a favorite wherever the English language is known. He depicts a great variety of scenes and character with singular skill and felicity, and his style has all the ease and grace, the purity and charm, that distinguish that of Goldsmith, with whom he may justly be compared. "The Sketch-Book" and "Knickerbocker's History of New York" are among the most admired of his earlier writings, and his later works have more than sustained his early fame.

The tales and prose sketches of N.P. Willis are characterized by genial wit, and a delicate rather than a powerful imagination, while beneath his brilliant audacities of phrase there is a current of original thought and genuine feeling. Commanding all the resources of passion, while he is at the same time master of all the effects of manner, in the power of ingenious and subtle comment on passing events, of sketching the lights and shadows which flit over the surface of society, of playful and felicitous portraiture of individual traits, and of investing his descriptions with the glow of vitality, this writer is unsurpassed.

Hawthorne is remarkable for the delicacy of his psychological insight, his power of intense characterization, and for his mastery of the spiritual and the supernatural. His genius is most at home when delineating the darker passages of life and the enactions of guilt and pain. He does not feel the necessity of time or space to realize his spells, and the early history of New England and its stern people have found no more vivid illustration than his pages afford. The style of Hawthorne is the pure colorless medium of his thought; the plain current of his language is always equable, full and unvarying, whether in the company of playful children, among the ancestral associations of family or history, or in grappling with the mysteries and terrors of the supernatural world. "The Scarlet Letter" is a psychological romance, a study of character in which the human heart is anatomized with striking poetic and dramatic power. "The House of the Seven Gables" is a tale of retribution and expiation, dating from the time of the Salem witchcraft. "The Marble Faun" is the most elaborate and powerfully drawn of his later works.

Edgar A. Poe (1811-1849) acquired much reputation as a writer of tales and many of his productions exhibit extraordinary metaphysical acuteness, and an imagination that delights to dwell in the shadowy confines of human experience, among the abodes of crime and horror. A subtle power of analysis, a minuteness of detail, a refinement of reasoning in the anatomy of mystery, give to his most improbable inventions a wonderful reality.

Of the numerous writings of William Gilmore Simms, historical or imaginative romances form no inconsiderable part. As a novelist he is vigorous in delineation, dramatic in action, poetic in description, and skilled in the art of story-telling. His pictures of Southern border scenery and life are vivid and natural.

Harriet Beecher Stowe was well known as a writer before the appearance of the work which has given her a world-wide reputation. No work of fiction of any age ever attained so immediate and extensive a popularity as "Uncle Tom's Cabin;" before the close of the first year after its publication it had been translated into all the languages of Europe; many millions of copies had been sold, and it had been dramatized in twenty different forms, and performed in every capital of Europe.

Besides the authors already named, there is a crowd of others of various and high degrees of merit and reputation, but whose traits are chiefly analogous to those already described. Paulding, in "Westward Ho" and "The Dutchman's Fireside," has drawn admirable pictures of colonial life; Dana, in "The Idle Man," has two or three remarkable tales; Flint, Hall, and Webber have written graphic and spirited tales of Western life. Kennedy has described Virginia life in olden times in "Swallow Barn;" and Fay has described "Life in New York;" Hoffman has embodied the early history of New York in a romantic form, and Dr. Bird, that of Mexico. William Ware's "Probus" and "Letters from Palmyra" are classical romances, and Judd's "Margaret" is a tragic story of New England life. Cornelius Mathews has chosen new subjects, and treated them in an original way; John Neal has written many novels full of power and incident. The "Hyperion" and "Kavanagh" of Longfellow establish his success as a writer of fiction; and in adventurous description, the "Omoo" and "Typee" of Melville, and the "Kaloolah" and "Berber" of Mayo have gained an extensive popularity.

This department of literature has been ably represented by the women of the United States, and their contributions form an important part of our national literature. Catharine M. Sedgwick has written the most pleasing and graphic tales of New England life. Lydia M. Child is the author of several fictions, as well as other prose works, which evince great vigor, beauty, and grace. Maria J. McIntosh has written many charming tales; the "New Home" of Mrs. Kirkland, an admirable picture of frontier life, was brilliantly successful, and will be permanently valuable as representing scenes most familiar to the early settlers of the Western States. The works of the Misses Warner are equally popular in England and the United States. Among numerous other names are those of Eliza Leslie, Lydia H. Sigourney, Caroline Gilman, E. Oakes Smith, Alice and Phoebe Cary, Elizabeth F. Ellet, Sarah J. Hale, Emma Willard, Caroline Lee Hentz, Alice B. Neal, Caroline Chesebro, Emma Southworth, Ann S. Stephens, Maria Cummings, Anna Mowatt Ritchie, Rose Terry Cooke, Harriet Prescott Spofford, Augusta J. Evans, Catharine A. Warfield, and the writers under the assumed names of Fanny Forrester, Grace Greenwood, Fanny Fern, Marion Harland, and Mary Forrest, besides many anonymous writers.

4. POETRY.—America has as yet produced no great epic poet, although the existence of a high degree of poetical talent cannot be denied. Carrying the same enthusiasm into the world of fancy that he does into the world of fact, the American finds in the cultivation of the poetic faculty a pleasant relief from the absorbing pursuits of daily life; hence, while poetry is sometimes cultivated as an art, it is oftener resorted to as a pastime; the number of writers is more numerous here than in any other country, and the facility of poetical expression more universal. William C. Bryant (1794-1878) is recognized as the best representative of American poetry. He is extremely felicitous in the use of native materials, and he has a profound love of nature and of freedom united with great artistic skill. He is eminently a contemplative poet; in his writings there is a remarkable absence of those bursts of tenderness and passion which constitute the essence of a large portion of modern verse. His strength lies in his descriptive power, in his serene and elevated philosophy, and in his noble simplicity of language. Richard H. Dana (1787-1879) is the most psychological of the American poets; the tragic and remorseful elements of humanity exert a powerful influence over his imagination, while the mysteries and aspirations of the human soul fill and elevate his mind. His verse is sometimes abrupt, but never feeble, The poems of Fitz- Greene Halleck are spirited and warm with emotion, or sparkling with genuine wit. His humorous poems are marked by an uncommon ease of versification, a natural flow of language, and a playful felicity of jest; his serious poems are distinguished for manly vigor of thought and language, and a beauty of imagery. The poems of Henry W. Longfellow (1807- 1882) are chiefly meditative, and often embody and illustrate significant truths. They give little evidence of the power of overmastering passion, but they are pervaded with an earnestness and beauty of sentiment, expressed in a finished and artistic form, which at once wins the ear and impresses the memory and heart. In "Evangeline" and "Hiawatha," the most popular of his later productions, he has skillfully succeeded in the use of metres unusual in English. The poems of N. P. Willis (1807-1867) are characterized by a vivid imagination and a brilliant wit, combined with grace of utterance and artistic finish. His picturesque elaborations of some of the incidents recorded in the Bible are the best of his poetical compositions. His dramas are delicate creations of sentiment and passion with a relish of the Elizabethan age. J. R. Lowell (b. 1819) unites in his most effective poems a philosophic simplicity with a transcendental suggestiveness. Imagination and philanthropy are the dominant elements in his writings, which are marked by a graceful flow and an earnest tone. His satires contain many sharply-drawn portraits, and his humorous poems are replete with wit.

Washington Allston (1779-1843) owed his chief celebrity to his paintings, but his literary works alone would have given him high rank among men of genius. His poems are delicate, subtle, and philosophical, and though few in number, they are exquisite in finish and in the thoughts which they embody.

James A. Hillhouse (1789-1841) excelled in what may be called the written drama, which, though unsuited to representation, is characterized by noble sentiment and imagery. His dramatic and other poems are the first instances in this country of artistic skill in the higher and more elaborate spheres of poetic writing, and have gained for him a permanent place among the American poets. The "Culprit Fay" of Joseph Rodman Drake (1795-1820) is a poem exhibiting a most delicate fancy and much artistic skill. It was a sudden and brilliant flash of a highly poetical mind which was extinguished before its powers were fully expanded. The poetry of John G. Whittier (b. 1809) is characterized by boldness, energy, and simplicity, often united with tenderness and grace; that of Oliver Wendell Holmes, by humor and genial sentiment. In poetry, as in prose, Edgar A. Poe was most successful in the metaphysical treatment of the passions. His poems, which are constructed with great ingenuity, illustrate a morbid sensitiveness and a shadowy and gloomy imagination. The poems of Henry T. Tuckerman (1813-1871) are expressions of graceful and romantic sentiment or the fruits of reflection, illustrated with a scholar's taste.

Charles Fenno Hoffman (1806-1884) is the author of many admired convivial and amatory poems, and George P. Morris is a recognized song-writer of America.

Of numerous other poets, whose names are familiar to all readers of
American literature, a few only can he named; among them are John G.C.
Brainerd, James G. Percival, Richard H. Wilde, James G. Brooks, Charles
Sprague, Alfred B. Street, T. Buchanan Read, T.B. Aldrich, William Allen
Butler, Albert G. Greene, George D. Prentice, William J. Pabodie, Park
Benjamin, William Gilmore Simms, John R. Thompson, William Ross Wallace,
Charles G. Leland, Thomas Dunn English, William D. Gallagher, Albert Pike,
John G, Saxe, James T. Fields, Arthur Cleveland Coxe, Cornelius Mathews,
John Neal, and Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Among the literary women of the United States are many graceful writers who possess true poetical genius, and enjoy a high local reputation. The "Zophiel" of Maria Brooks (1795-1845) evinces an uncommon degree of power in one of the most refined and difficult provinces of creative art. Frances S. Osgood (1812-1850) was endowed with great playfulness of fancy, and a facility of expression which rendered her almost an improvisatrice. Her later poems are marked by great intensity of feeling and power of expression. The "Sinless Child" of Elizabeth Oakes Smith is a melodious and imaginative poem, with many passages of deep significance. Amelia B. Welby's poems are distinguished for sentiment and melody. The "Passion Flowers" and other poems of Julia Ward Howe are full of ardor and earnestness. Mrs. Sigourney's metrical writings are cherished by a large class of readers. Hannah F. Gould has written many pretty and fanciful poems, and Grace Greenwood's "Ariadne" is a fine burst of womanly pride and indignation. Among many other equally well known and honored names, there are those of Elizabeth F. Ellet, Emma C. Embury, Sarah J. Hale, Anna Mowatt Ritchie, Ann S. Stephens, Sarah H. Whitman, Catharine A. Warfield, and Eleanor Lee, ("Two Sisters of the West") Alice and Phoebe Cary, "Edith May," Caroline C. Marsh, Elizabeth C. Kinney, and Maria Lowell.

Nothing of very decided mark has been contributed to dramatic literature by American writers, though this branch of letters has been cultivated with some success. John Howard Payne wrote several successful plays; George H. Boker is the author of many dramatic works which establish his claim to an honorable rank among the dramatic writers of the age. Single dramas by Bird, Sargent, Conrad, and other writers still keep their place upon the stage; with many faults, they abound in beauties, and they are valuable as indications of awakening genius.

5. THE TRANSCENDENTAL MOVEMENT IN NEW ENGLAND.—The Transcendental Philosophy, so-called, had its distinct origin in the "Critique of Pure Reason," the work of Immanuel Kant, which appeared in Germany in 1781, although, under various forms, the questions it discussed are as old as Plato and Aristotle, The first principle of this philosophy is that ideas exist in the soul which transcend the senses, while that of the school of Locke, or the School of Sensation, is that there is nothing in the intellect that was not first in the senses. The Transcendentalist claimed an intuitive knowledge of God, belief in immortality, and in man's ability to apprehend absolute ideas of truth, justice, and rectitude. The one regarded expediency, prudence, caution, and practical wisdom as the highest of the virtues, and distrusted alike the seer, the prophet, and the reformer. The other was by nature a reformer and dissatisfied with men as they are, but with passionate aspirations for a pure social state, he recognized, above all, the dignity of the individual man.

These two schools of philosophy aimed at the same results, but by different methods. The one worked up from beneath by material processes, the other worked down from above by intellectual ones. There had been in other countries a transcendental philosophy, but, in New England alone, where the sense of individual freedom was active, and where there were no fixed and unalterable social conditions, was this philosophy applied to actual life. Of late the scientific method, so triumphant in the natural world, has been applied to the spiritual, and the principles of the sensational philosophy have been, re-stated by Bain, Mill, Spencer, and other leaders of speculative opinion, who present it under the name of the "Philosophy of Experience," and resolve the intuitions of the Ideal into the results of experience and the processes of organic, life. Mill was the first to organize the psychological side, while Lewes, Spencer, and Tyndall have approached the same problem from the side of organization. Should these analyses be accepted, Idealism as a philosophy must disappear. There is, however, no cause to apprehend a return to the demoralization which the sensualist doctrines of the last century were accused of encouraging. The attitude of the human mind towards the great problems of destiny has so far altered, and the problems themselves have so far changed their face, that no shock will be felt in the passage from the philosophy of intuition to that of experience.

Early in the second quarter of our century the doctrines of Kant and of his German followers, Jacobi, Fichte, and Schelling, found their way into New England, and their influence on thought and life was immediate and powerful, affecting religion, literature, laws, and institutions. As an episode or special phase of thought, it was of necessity transient, but had it bequeathed nothing more than the literature that sprang from it and the lives of the men and women who had their intellectual roots in it, it would have conferred a lasting benefit on America.

Among the first to plant the seeds of the Transcendental Philosophy in New England was George Ripley (1802-1880), a philanthropist on ideal principles, whose faith blossomed into works, and whose well known attempt to create a new earth in preparation for a new heaven, although it ended in failure, commanded sympathy and respect. Later, as a critic, he aided the development of literature in America by erecting a high standard of judgment and by his just estimation of the rights and duties of literary men.

Theodore Parker (d. 1860) owed his great power as a preacher to his faith in the Transcendental philosophy. The Absolute God, the Moral Law, and the Immortal Life he held to be the three cardinal attestations of the universal consciousness. The authority of the "higher law," the absolute necessity of religion for safely conducting the life of the individual and the life of the state, he asseverated with all the earnestness of an enthusiastic believer.

A. Bronson Alcott (b. 1799) is a philosopher of the Mystic school. Seeking wisdom, not through books, but by intellectual processes, he appeals at once to consciousness, claims immediate insight, and contemplates ultimate laws in his own soul. His "Orphic Sayings" amused and perplexed the critics, who made them an excuse for assailing the entire Transcendental school.

Margaret Fuller (1810-1850) adopted the spiritual philosophy, and had the subtlest perception of its bearings. Her vigorous and original writings possess a lasting value, although they imperfectly represent her remarkable powers.

Among the representatives of the Spiritual Philosophy the first place belongs to Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882), who lighted up its doctrines with the rays of ethical and poetical imagination. Without the formality of dogma, he was a teacher of vigorous morality in line with the ruling tendencies of the age, and bringing all the aid of abstract teaching towards the solution of the moral problems of society.

The first article of his faith is the primacy of Mind; that Mind is supreme, eternal, absolute, one, manifold, subtle, living, immanent in all things, permanent, flowing, self-manifesting; that the universe is the result of mind; that nature is the symbol of mind; that finite minds live and act through concurrence with infinite mind. His second is the connection of the individual intellect with the primal mind and its ability to draw thence wisdom, will, virtue, prudence, heroism, all active and passive qualities.

In his essays, which are prose poems, he lays incessant emphasis on the cardinal virtues of humility, sincerity, obedience, aspiration, and acquiescence to the will of the Supreme Power, and he sustains the mind at an elevation that makes the heights of accepted morality disappear in the level of the plain. With many inconsistencies to be allowed for, Emerson still remains the highest mind that the world of letters has produced in America, inspiring men by word and example, rebuking their despondency, awakening them from the slumber of conformity and convention, and lifting them from low thoughts and sullen moods of helplessness and impiety.

Among other writers identified with the Transcendental movement in New
England are O. B. Frothingham, Orestes A. Brownson, James Freeman Clarke,
William H. Channing, Henry Thoreau, John S. Dwight, C. P. Cranch, W. E.
Channing, T. W. Higginson, C. A. Bartol, D. A. Wasson, John Weiss, and
Samuel Longfellow.

6. MISCELLANEOUS WRITINGS.—Of the essayists, critics, and miscellaneous writers of the United States, a few only may be here characterized.

Parke Godwin is a brilliant political essayist. E. P. Whipple is an able critic and an essayist of great acuteness, insight, and logical power. H. T. Tuckerman is a genial and appreciative writer, combining extensive scholarship with elevated sentiment and feeling. Richard Grant White's "Commentaries on Shakspeare" have met with a cordial reception from all Shakspearean scholars.

Oliver Wendell Holmes conceals under the garb of wit and humor an earnest sympathy and a deep knowledge of human nature; George W. Curtis combines fine powers of observation and satire with delicacy of taste and refinement of feeling; and Donald G. Mitchell gives to the world his "Reveries" in a pleasing and attractive manner. The writings of A. J. Downing, on subjects relating to rural life and architecture, have exercised a wide and salutary influence on the taste of the country. Willis Gaylord Clark (1810-1841) is best remembered by his "Ollapodiana" and his occasional poems, in which humor and pathos alternately prevail. The "Charcoal Sketches" of Joseph C. Neal (1807-1847) exhibit a genial humor, and will be remembered for the curious specimens of character they embody.

Seba Smith has been most successful in adapting the Yankee dialect to the purposes of humorous writing in his "Jack Downing's Letters" and other productions. The writings of Henry D. Thoreau, combining essay and description, are quaint and humorous, while those of "Timothy Titcomb" (J.G. Holland) are addressed to the practical common sense of the American people.

Charles T. Brooks (d. 1883) is distinguished for his felicitous translations from the German poets and writers.

The writings of George D. Prentice abound in wit and humor. W.H. Hurlburt is an able expositor of political affairs and a brilliant descriptive writer.

7. ENCYCLOPAEDIAS, DICTIONARIES, AND EDUCATIONAL BOOKS. The Encyclopaedia Americana, the first work of the kind undertaken in America, appeared in 1829, under the auspices of Dr. Lieber, and contains articles on almost every subject of human knowledge. The New American Cyclopaedia, edited by George Ripley and Charles A. Dana, is a work on a larger and more original plan, and is particularly valuable as the repository of all knowledge bearing upon American civilization, while at the same time it embodies a great amount of interesting and valuable information on all subjects. Allibone's "Dictionary of English Authors," completed in four large volumes, exceeds all similar works in the number of authors it describes and the details it contains. Among the works containing abundant materials for the history of American literature are the several volumes of Rufus W. Griswold, the "Cyclopaedia of American Literature," by G.L. and E.A. Duyckinck, and other collections or sketches by Hart, Cleveland, Tuckerman, Everest, and Caroline May.

The Dictionary of Noah Webster (1778-1843), an elaborate and successful undertaking, has exercised an influence over the English language which will probably endure for generations. The more recent publication of Worcester's Dictionary, which adds many thousand words to the registered English vocabulary, marks an epoch in the history of the language. It is regarded by competent critics as the first of all English dictionaries in point of merit, and as the fitting representative of the language of the two great branches of the Anglican stock. The "Lectures on the English Language," by George P. Marsh, exhibit a thorough knowledge of the subject, and are admirably designed to render the study attractive to all persons of taste and culture.

The scholars of Europe are much indebted to those of America for their investigations of the Karen, the Siamese, Asamese, Chinese, and numerous African languages; and for grammars and dictionaries of the Burmese, Chinese, the Hawaiian, and the modern Armenian, Syrian, and Chaldee tongues. Foreign and comparatively unknown languages have thus been reduced to a system and grammar by which they can readily be acquired by Europeans. Many valuable works have also appeared on the language of the American Indians.

The text-books of the United States are unsurpassed by those of any country, and many of them are in use in England. Among them are Anthon's admirable series of Latin and Greek Classics and Classical Dictionary, Robinson's Hebrew and English Dictionary of Gesenius, and the Latin and English Dictionary of Andrews, founded on the celebrated work of Freund.

Felton's "Classical Studies," and his various editions of the classics, have been ably prepared and evince a scholar's enthusiasm. Henry Barnard, by his "Journal of Education" and numerous other writings, is identified with the cause of popular education and has acquired an extensive reputation in Europe and the United States. Horace Mann is also widely known through his "Reports" on education; and in the practical carrying out of profound liberal and national views in our colleges, Presidents Nott, Tappan, Wayland, Sears, King, and Barnard have been eminently successful.

8. THEOLOGY, PHILOSOPHY, ECONOMY, ASD JURISPRUDENCE. It is generally conceded that the theological writers of this country are among the ablest of modern times, and the diversity of sects, a curious and striking fact in our social history, is fully illustrated by the literary organs of each denomination, from the spiritual commentaries of Bush to the ardent Catholicism of Brownson. The works of Moses Stuart (1780-1852), Edward Robinson, Francis Wayland, and Albert Barnes are standard authorities with all classes of Protestant Christians.

William Ellery Channing (1780-1842) achieved a wide reputation for genius in ethical literature, and as a moral essayist will hold a permanent place in English letters. Among other members of the clerical profession who have had a marked influence on the mind of the age by their scholarship or eloquence are Drs. Hickok, C.S. Henry, Tappan, H.B. Smith, Hitchcock, W.R. Williams, Alexander, Bethune, Hawks, Sprague, Bushnell, Thompson, Tyng, Bartol, Dewey, Norton, Frothingham, Osgood, Chapin, Bellows, Furness, Livermore, Ware, Peabody, and Henry Ward Beecher.

The philosophical writings of Dr. Tappan, the author of a "Treatise on the
Will" and a work on the "Elements of Logic," those of C.S. Henry, Wayland,
Hickok, and Haven have an extensive reputation; and of the various works
on political economy those of Henry C. Carey are most widely known.

Most prominent among the writings of American jurists are those of Kent, Wheaton, Story, Livingston, Lawrence, and Bouvier. Kent's (1768-1847) "Commentaries" on American Law at once took a prominent place in legal literature, and are now universally considered of the highest authority. Of Wheaton's (1785-1848) great works on International Law, it is sufficient to say that one has been formally adopted by the University of Cambridge, England, as the best work of its kind extant, and as a manual for tuition by the professors of legal science. Among modern legal writers, Story (1779-1845) occupies a distinguished position. His "Commentaries" have acquired a European reputation, and have been translated into French and German. Livingston's (1764-1833) "System of Penal Laws for the United States," since its publication in 1828, has materially modified the penal laws of the world, and may be considered the first complete penal system based upon philanthropy, and designed to substitute mildness for severity in the punishment of criminals. Bouvier's "Institutes of American Law" and "Dictionary of Law" are considered as among the best works of their kind, both in the United States and Europe. Other branches of legal research have been treated in a masterly manner by American writers, and many authors might be named whose works take a high rank in both hemispheres.

9. NATURAL SCIENCES.—The physical sciences, from an early period, have found able investigators in the United States. Benjamin Thompson (Count Rumford) successfully applied his knowledge to increase the convenience, economy, and comfort of mankind. Franklin's discoveries in electricity, the most brilliant which had yet been made, have been followed by those of Morse, whose application of that power to the telegraphic wire is one of the most wonderful achievements of modern science. Fitch and Fulton were the first to apply steam to navigation, a force which has become one of the most powerful levers of civilization. In chemistry the works of Hare, Silliman, Henry, Hunt, and Morfit are equally honorable to themselves and the country. The names of Dana, Hitchcock, Hall, the brothers Rogers, Eaton, Hodge, Owen, and Whitney are identified with the science of geology in the United States. The names of Torrey and Gray are eminent in botany, and the writings of the latter especially rank among the most valuable botanical works of the age. The mathematical sciences have found able expounders. The merits of Dr. Bowditch (1773-1838) entitle him to a high rank among the mathematicians of the world. His Commentary on the "Mécanique Céleste" of La Place, which he translated, is an original work, and contains many discoveries of his own. His "Practical Navigator" is the universally adopted guide in the American marine, and to a great extent in the naval service of England and France.

In mathematics as well as astronomy, Peirce and Hill have shown themselves able investigators. Bache, of the United States Coast Survey, has made many valuable contributions to physical science. The astronomical works of Professors Loowis, Gould, Norton, Olmsted, and Mitchell hold a high position in the United States and Europe; and valuable astronomical observations have been made by Lieutenants Maury and Gillies, and Maria Mitchell.

In natural history, Holbrook's "North American Herpetology," or a description of the reptiles of the United States, is a work of great magnitude, and sustains a high scientific reputation. Audubon's (1780- 1851) "Birds of America" is the most magnificent work on ornithology ever published. Since the death of Audubon, the subject to which he devoted his life has been pursued by Cassin and Girard, who rank with him as naturalists. Goodrich's "Animal Kingdom" is a recent popular work in this department.

The "Crania Americana" of Dr. Morton, the "Crania Egyptiaca" of Gliddon, and the "Types of Mankind," the joint production of the above writers and Dr. Nott, are important contributions to the department of ethnology.

De Vere and Dwight are eminent writers on philology; Jarvis, Hough,
Tucker, De Bow, Kennedy, and Wynne, on statistics.

Medical literature has been ably illustrated, and American writers on naval and military affairs have contributed largely to the effectiveness of modern warfare. Geographical knowledge has been greatly increased. Many explorations and publications have been made under the patronage of the government, and many excellent maps and charts have been executed from actual surveys. The Wind Charts and other works of Lieutenant Maury have greatly advanced the science of navigation, and his "Physical Geography of the Sea" has revealed the mysteries of the submarine world with graphic power.

10. FOREIGN WRITERS.—Many foreign writers in the United States, some of whom have had their tastes formed here, and are essentially American in principle and feeling, have contributed to the literature of the country. The celebrated Bishop Berkeley (1684-1753), whose prophetic verses on America are so often quoted, brought with him the prestige which attached to high literary reputation, and had an influence on the progress of literature in the colonies. His "Minute Philosopher" contains many passages descriptive of the scene at Newport, in the midst of which it was written. Thomas Paine (1736-1809) wrote his pamphlet entitled "Common Sense," and his "Crisis," in America, the former of which, especially, powerfully affected the political condition of the country. John Witherspoon (1722-1794), lineal descendant of John Knox, was the author of many religious works, and of some valuable political essays. Susanna Rowson (1762-1824) was the author of "Charlotte Temple," a novel which had extraordinary success in its day, and of many books of less fame. Joseph Priestley (1733-1804) wrote and published many of his most valuable works in the United States. His friend Thomas Cooper (1759-1840) was one of the most active minds of the age, and his religious, political, and scientific writings were not without their influence on the national literature. "The American Ornithology" of Alexander Wilson (1766-1813), a native of Scotland, is second only to the great work of Audubon. The names of Matthew Carey, Peter Duponceau, and Albert Gallatin are also honorably associated with American letters.

Of the more recent writers, Dr. Lieber has done much for the advancement of political and philosophical science in the United States. The names of Agassiz, father and son, and Guyot, prominent among the scientific investigators of the age, are indissolubly connected with science in America; and Drs. Draper and Dunglison have made valuable contributions to the medical literature of the world. Count A. de Gurowski, an able scholar, has published a work on "Russia as it is," and another on "America and Europe." Mrs. Robinson's various works entitle her to high distinction in the more grave as well as the lighter departments of literature. Professor Koeppen has written two valuable works on the "World in the Middle Ages." Dr. Brunow has brought a European reputation to the aid of one of our Western universities. Henry Giles has gained distinction by his essays and criticisms, and Henry William Herbert by his novels and miscellaneous writings. Many other foreign men of letters might be named, who, in various ways, aid the development of the national literature.

11. NEWSPAPERS AND PERIODICALS.—One of the most powerful engines in creating a taste for literature among the people of the United States is the newspaper and periodical press. Every interest, every social and political doctrine has its organ, and every village has its newspaper; not devoted solely to special, local, or even to national topics, but registering the principal passing events of the actual as well as of the intellectual world, and in this respect differing essentially from the press of all other countries. These papers are offered at so small a price as to place them within the reach of all; and in a country where every one reads, the influence of such a power as a public educator, in stimulating and diffusing mental activity, and in creating cosmopolitan interests, can scarcely be comprehended in its full significance. While there is much in these publications that is necessarily of an evanescent character, and much that might perhaps be better excluded, it cannot be denied that the best of our daily and weekly papers often contain literary matter which in a less fugitive form would become a permanent and valuable contribution to the national literature.

The magazines and reviews of the United States take a worthy place beside those of Great Britain, and present a variety of reading which exhibits at once the versatility of the people and the cosmopolitan tendency of the literature which addresses itself to the sympathies of the most diversified classes of readers. Among the quarterly reviews, the North American occupies a prominent position. It is associated with the earliest dawnings of the national literature, and in the list of its contributors is found almost every name of note in American letters. The Scientific American and the Popular Science Monthly are the most eminent of the scientific periodicals; the Bibliotheca Sacra, the Andover and Princeton Reviews, the Christian Union, the Independent, the Churchman are among the ablest religious journals.

With the decease of H.S. Legaré, one of the most finished scholars of the South, the Southern Quarterly, which had been indebted to his pen for many of its ablest articles, ceased its existence. Putnam's Magazine was long the medium of the most valuable and interesting fugitive literature; and the Atlantic Monthly, which has succeeded it, is under the auspices of the most eminent men of letters in New England, and has become the nucleus of a number of young and able writers. The Magazine of American History is the repository of much valuable information and many curious incidents in the history of the country. Harper's Magazine and the Century are periodicals of high literary character and of wide circulation both in this country and in England. They have by means of their illustrations done much to advance and develop the art of engraving.

The language of American literature being that of England, its early productions were naturally modeled after those of the mother-country. But the cosmopolitan elements of which the nation is composed, and the peculiar influences of American civilization in holding out to the human race opportunities and destinies unparalleled in history, are rapidly developing a distinct national character which in the future must be reflected in American literature, and cannot fail to produce great results. This at least is the belief of all those who have faith in humanity and in the spirit which laid the foundation of our Republic.

12. SINCE 1800.—The period intervening between 1860 and 1885 has not been marked by any important literary development. In the great war for the support of the institution of slavery on one hand and for national existence on the other, history was enacted rather than written, and the sudden and rapid development of material interests succeeding the war have absorbed, to a great extent, the energies of the people.

Many histories of special occurrences of the war have since appeared, and many biographies of those who played prominent parts in it, and when time shall have given these, and the great events they commemorate, their true perspective, the poet, novelist, and historian of the future will find in them ample material for a truly national literature.

Among the poets of the time only a few of the more prominent can be named. Bayard Taylor (1825-1878) is equally distinguished as a poet and prose writer of fiction and travels. His translation of Faust in the original metre is accepted as the best representation of the German master in the English tongue, and apart from its merits as a translation, it has added to the literature by the beauty and power of its versification. His poem of "Deukalion" shows great originality and power of imagination. Richard H. Stoddard (b. 1825) is a poet and critic, equally distinguished in both departments. Edmund C. Stedman (b. 1833) is known by his translations from the Greek poets and his original poems marked by vigor and spontaneity of thought, poetic power, and precision in art. His critical volume on the Victorian poets is notable for dispassionate, conscientious, and skillful and sympathetic criticism.

Walt Whitman (b. 1819) writes with great force, originality, and sympathy with all forms of struggle and suffering, but with utter contempt for conventionalities and for the acknowledged limits of true art. Richard W. Gilder has a delicate fancy and power of poetic expression. William Winter, as a writer of occasional verses, has rare felicity of thought and execution. William W. Story adds to his many other gifts those of a true poet. Charles De Kay is the author of many poems original in conception and execution. Thomas Bailey Aldrich has written much dainty and musical verse and several successful novels. Will Carleton, the author of "Farm Ballads," displays a keen sympathy for the harder phases of common life. Charles G. Leland, in prose and humorous poetry, is widely read, and known also by his efforts to introduce industrial art into schools. Henry Howard Brownell is the author of "War Lyrics," among the best of their kind. Edgar Fawcett is equally known as a poet and novelist. Joaquin Miller, in his poems, gives pictures of lawless and adventurous life.

Of the many distinguished women in contemporary American literature only a few can here be named. Helen Jackson (H. H.) is a brilliant prose writer and a poet of originality and power. She is the author of many essays and works of fiction, and of an exhaustive work on the Indian question. Emma Lazarus has written many poems of a high order. Annie Fields recalls the spirit and imagination of the Greek mythology. Edith M. Thomas, in her poems, shows high culture, originality, and imagination. Those of Lucy Larcom belong to every-day life, and are truthful and pathetic. Mary Mapes Dodge is a charming writer of tales and poems for children, and of other poems, Celia Thaxter dwells on the picturesque features of nature on sea and land. Julia Dorr in her novels and poems gives proof of great versatility of talents. Ellen Hutchinson is a writer of imaginative and musical verses. Elizabeth Stoddard is the author of several powerful novels and of some fine poems. Of equal merit are the productions of Louise Chandler Moulton, Nora Perry, Edna Dean Proctor, S. M. B. Piatt, Margaret Preston, Harriet Preston, Elizabeth Akers Allen, Sarah Woolsey (Susan Coolidge), Laura Johnson, Mary Clemmer, Mary C. Bradley, Kate Putnam Osgood, Harriet Kimball, Marian Douglas, Mary Prescott, Laura C. Redden.

In prose Frances Hodgson Burnett is the author of many interesting novels and stories; Harriet Spofford, of original tales; Elizabeth Stuart Phelps, of popular and highly wrought novels; Adeline Whitney, of entertaining novels of every-day life; Rebecca Harding Davis, of powerful though sombre novels, of pictures of contemporary life, society, and thought; Louisa Alcott, of a series of charming New England stories for the young. Rose Terry Cooke, in her short stories, has presented many striking studies of New England life and character; and Sarah Orne Jewett deals with the same material in a manner both strong and refined. Julia Fletcher and Blanche Willis Howard have each written successful novels, and Constance Fenimore Woolson is the author of many vivid and well written tales. Mary A. Dadge (Gail Hamilton) is a writer on many subjects, sparkling, witty, aggressive; Clara Erskine Waters writes ably on art; Kate Field is a vigorous and brilliant writer in journalism, travels, and criticism.

FICTION.—Theodore Winthrop (1828-1861) fell an early sacrifice in the war. His descriptions of prairie life, his fresh and vigorous individualization of character and power of narrative indicate a vein of original genius which was foil of promise. William Dean Howells and Henry James are foremost as writers of the analytic and realistic school. Their studies of character are life-like and finished, their satire keen and good-natured. The romances of Julian Hawthorne deal with the marvelous and unreal. Bret Harte (b. 1839) presents us with vivid and lifelike pictures of wild Californian life, of the rude hate and love which prevail in an atmosphere of lawlessness, redeemed by touching exhibitions of gratitude and magnanimity. His dialect poems and those of John Hay enjoy a wide popularity. The latter will also be remembered for his "Castilian Days," a volume of fascinating studies of Spanish subjects. George W. Cable is known for his pictures of Creole life; Edward Eggleston, for his sketches of the shrewd and kindly humorous Western life. Albion Tourgée has been the first to avail himself in fiction of the political conditions growing out of the war. Joel Chandler Harris delineates the character, dialect, and peculiarities of the negro race in his "Sketches in Black and White," and Richard Malcolm Johnston has graphically described phases of Southern life which have almost passed away. F. Marion Crawford shows originality and promise in the novels he has so far given to the public; the same may be said of Arthur S. Hardy, George P. Lathrop, W.H. Bishop, Frank R. Stockton, and F.J. Stinson.

SCIENCE.—In astronomy, Young, Henry Draper, and Langley may be named; in geology, Dana and Leconte; in physiology, Flint and Dalton; Marsh, in palaeontology, and Leidy, in zöology; Professor Whitney is an able writer on philology and Oriental literature. Professor E.L. Youmans has organized the simultaneous publication, in this country, England, France, Germany, Italy, and Russia, of an international series of scientific works by the ablest living writers, which has proved eminently successful. Among the theologians representing various schools may be named, Philip Schaff, Roswell D. Hitchcock, Samuel Osgood, Henry W. Bellows, Frederick H. Hedge, Edward E. Hale, Newman Smyth, William R. Alger, and Octavius B. Frothingham.

MISCELLANEOUS.—John Fiske is an able and versatile thinker and an expounder of the philosophy of Herbert Spencer, and a writer on American history, and on the leading subjects of scientific thought. Charles Brace is the author of many volumes on various social problems. Moses Coit Tyler is a writer on American literature and history; Andrew D. White, on French history, and on science and religion. Professor McMaster's "History of the People of the United States" is considered a scholarly and picturesque work. Professor Lounsbury has written, in his "Cooper," one of the best of modern biographies. Charles Dudley Warner is distinguished by the great geniality and humor of his writings, alternately quaint, delicate, and pungent. The charm and purity of his diction recall the best school of English essayists. Paul Du Chaillu is widely known for his accounts of travel in Africa and elsewhere; Moncure D. Conway, as a writer on social, literary, and artistic themes. John Burroughs is a close observer of nature; Eugene Schuyler is the author of a history of Peter the Great; Parkman throws much light on early American history; Parton is the author of many attractive biographies; Samuel Clemens (Mark Twain) is known for his humorous writings.

CONCLUSION.

In the preceding pages the progress of literature has been briefly traced through its various periods—from the time when its meagre records were confined to inscriptions engraved on stone, or inscribed on clay tablets or papyrus leaves, or in its later and more perfect development when, written on parchment, it was the possession of the learned few, hidden in libraries and so precious that a book was sometimes the ransom of a city— till the invention of printing gave to the world the accumulated treasures of the past; and from that time to the present, when the press has poured forth from year to year an ever increasing succession of books, the records of human thought, achievement, and emotion which constitute literature.

The question here naturally arises as to whether the human mind has now reached its highest development in this direction, whether it is henceforth to retrograde or to advance. It was only towards the close of the last century that the idea of human progress gained ground, after the American and French revolutions had broken down old barriers, inaugurated new systems, inspired new hopes, and revealed new possibilities. What was then but a feeble sentiment, later advances in the direction of science have confirmed. Among them are the discovery of the correlation and conservation of force, according to Faraday the highest law which our faculties permit us to perceive; the spectroscope, that gives the chemist power to analyze the stars; the microscope, that lays bare great secrets of nature, and almost penetrates the mystery of life itself; the application of steam and electricity, that puts all nations into communication and binds mankind together with nerves of steel; above all, the theory of evolution, which opens to man an almost illimitable vista of progress and development. It is true that these great intellectual triumphs of the nineteenth century are all in the direction of science; but literature in its true sense embraces both science and art; science which discovers through the intellect, and art which transmutes, through the imagination, knowledge and emotion into beauty. When the stupendous discoveries of our time have been fully recognized and appreciated and followed, as they doubtless will be, by a long series of others equally great, a higher order of thought must follow, and literature, which, is but the reflection of the thought of any age, cannot but be in harmony with it.

This consummation more than one poet, with the prescience of genius, has already foretold. "Poetry," says Wordsworth, "is the first and last of all knowledge, immortal as the heart of man. If the labors of men of science should ever create any material revolution, direct or indirect, in our condition and in the impressions we habitually receive, the poet will sleep no more then than at present; he will be ready to follow the steps of the man of science, and if the time should ever come when what is now called science shall be ready to put on, as it were, a form of flesh and blood, the poet will lend his divine spirit to aid the transfiguration." "The sublime and all reconciling revelations of nature," writes Emerson, "will exact of poetry a corresponding height and scope, or put an end to it." George Eliot says,—

"Presentiment of better things on earth
Sweeps in with every force that stirs our souls."

Throughout the verse of Tennyson the idea of progress is variously expressed. He dreams of a future

"When the war-drum throbs no longer and the battle-flags are furled."
"When comes the statelier Eden back to man."
"When springs the crowning race of human kind."

Thus the inspirations of poetry not less than the conclusions of science indicate that we must look for the Golden Age, not in a mythical past, but in an actual though far-off future.

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Table of Contents

- HANDBOOK OF UNIVERSAL LITERATURE FROM THE BEST AND LATEST AUTHORITIES

- PREFATORY NOTE TO THE REVISED EDITION.

- PREFACE.

- CONTENTS.

- LIST OF AUTHORITIES

- SPANISH LITERATURE.

- LIST OF AUTHORITIES.

- INTRODUCTION.

- THE ALPHABET.

- CLASSIFICATION OF LANGUAGES.

- CHINESE LITERATURE.

- JAPANESE LITERATURE

- SANSKRIT LITERATURE.

- THE RELIGION.

- BABYLONIAN AND ASSYRIAN LITERATURE

- PHOENICIAN LITERATURE.

- SYRIAC LITERATURE.

- PERSIAN LITERATURE.

- HEBREW LITERATURE.

- EGYPTIAN LITERATURE.

- GREEK LITERATURE.

- INTRODUCTION.

- PERIOD FIRST.

- PERIOD SECOND.

- PERIOD THIRD.

- MODERN LITERATURE.

- ROMAN LITERATURE.

- INTRODUCTION.

- PERIOD FIRST.

- PERIOD SECOND.

- PERIOD THIRD.

- ARABIAN LITERATURE.

- ITALIAN LITERATURE.

- INTRODUCTION.

- PERIOD FIRST.

- PERIOD SECOND.

- PERIOD THIRD.

- FRENCH LITERATURE.

- INTRODUCTION.

- PERIOD FIRST.

- PERIOD SECOND.

- PERIOD THIRD.

- SPANISH LITERATURE.

- INTRODUCTION.

- PERIOD FIRST.

- PERIOD SECOND.

- PERIOD THIRD.

- PORTUGUESE LITERATURE.

- FINNISH LITERATURE.

- SLAVIC LITERATURES.

- RUSSIAN LITERATURE.

- THE SERVIAN LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE.

- THE BOHEMIAN LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE.

- THE POLISH LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE.

- ROUMANIAN LITERATURE.

- DUTCH LITERATURE.

- SCANDINAVIAN LITERATURE.

- GERMAN LITERATURE.

- INTRODUCTION.

- PERIOD FIRST

- PERIOD SECOND.

- PERIOD THIRD.

- ENGLISH LITERATURE.

- INTRODUCTION.

- PERIOD FIRST.

- PERIOD SECOND.

- PERIOD THIRD.

- SINCE 1860.

- AMERICAN LITERATURE.

- THE COLONIAL PERIOD (1640-1770).

- FIRST AMERICAN PERIOD (1770-1820).

- SECOND AMERICAN PERIOD (1820-1860).

- CONCLUSION.

- THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE