annals of book-ridden people. Nothing is more distant from the truth. Our times are those of Solomon, who lived one thousand years before Christ, and Solomon's were those that had, at some period, gone before him. In his hour, there was nothing new under the sun; and that there were, and had been, innumerable authors, we have ample testimony. "Of making books there is no end,"* and we are told that "Out of Machir came down governors, and out of Zebulum they that handle the pen of the writer," and these came to form an army! But I shall here call in the authority of Sir Thomas Bodley to my support, and quote freely, without fear of offence:

"I remember," says he, "a note, which Paterculus made of the incomparable wits of the Grecians and Romans in their flourishing state, that there might be this reason of their notable downfall, in their issue, that came after; because by nature, Quod summo studio petitum est, ascendit in summum, difficilisque in perfecto mora est; insomuch that men, perceiving that they could go no farther, being come to the top, they turned back again of their own accord, forsaking those studies, that are most in request, and betaking themselves to new endeavours, as if the thing, that they sought, had been by prevention surprised by others.

"So it fared, in particular, with the eloquence of that age, that when their successors found that hardly they could equal, by nó means excel, their predecessors, they began to neglect the study thereof, and both to write and speak, for many hundred years, in a rustical manner; till this latter revolution (temp. Jacob.) brought the wheel about again, by inflaming gallant spirits to give the onset afresh; with straining and striving to climb unte the top and height of perfection, not in that gift only, but in every other skill in any part of learning.

"For I do hold it an erroneous conceit to think of every science, that as now they are professed, so they have been before in all precedent ages; though not alike in all places, nor at all times alike in one and the same place, but according to the changings and twinings of time, with a more exact and plain, or with a more rude and obscure kind of teaching.

"And if the question should be asked, what proof I have of it, I have the doctrine of Aristotle, and the deepest clerks, of whom we have any means to take any notice, that as there is of other things, so there is of sciences ortus et interitus, which is also the meaning, if I should expound it, of "nihil novum sub sole," and is as well to be applied ad facta, as ad dicta, “ ut nihil neque dictum, neque factum, quod non est dictum, et factum

* Ecclesiastes, xii. 12. † Judges, v. 14. # Appendix to a collection of Letters of Archbishop Usher. Let, xiv. p. 10.

prius;" i. e. to things done, as things said that there is nothing said or done, which has not been said and done before. I have further for my warrant that famous complaint of Solomon to his son, against the infinite making of books in his time, of which, in all congruity, it must needs be understood that a great part was observations and instructions in all kinds of literature, and of those there is not now so much as one petty pamphlet, only some parts of the Bible excepted, remaining to posterity." What a prospect for the present generation—

Of puff and party spirit all bereft,

No vestige of the worthless heap is left:
Nor poring eye, nor dusty shelf their lot,

But, like their authors, gone, and quite forgot!

"As then," continues Sir Thomas, "there was not, in like manner, any footing to be found of millions of authors, that were long before Solomon; and yet we must give credit to that, which he affirmed, that whatsoever was then, or had been before, it could never be truly pronounced of it, behold this is new."-APPENDIX.

Let us, then, hear no further outcry against this scribbling age, since it is no more obnoxious to the opprobrium, than that in which Solomon lived. Authors always were, and while vanity and folly last, always will be numerous. I say folly, because where on earth the perfection of wisdom divine and human resided, it was otherwise. Jesus and Socrates left no writings behind them. But what avails their number, and wherefore should we complain of their burthen, or they of our neglect, since posterity, to whom they appeal, will, as we have seen, do them justice!

The little accident at Babel, which so multiplied tongues, and scarcely more occupied, annoyed, puzzled, and confounded the workmen of those days, than they do the literary labourers of our's, may, with specious reason,* appear to be a great curse. In this opinion, however, we are ungrateful. There is not enough to do in the world, for the world in common. They, who are most ready to complain of the shortness of life, are most troubled to find it occupation. Tadium vita-ennui-blue devils, possess innumerable persons, and are with difficulty exorcised. The vanity of learning, and the employment of reading and writing, relieve numbers from their clutches, who would otherwise be devoured by them. In a word, to sum up the best praises and defence of scribbling, the infinity of books is, to many, an innocent mitigation of the horrors of time, and the cause, under va

The literary triumphs of the ancients, especially those of the Greeks, over the moderns, are by Dr. Hawkesworth ascribed, above all, to an exemption from the necessity of overloading their natural faculties with learning and languages, with which we, in these later times, are obliged to qualify ourselves for writers, if we expect to be read.

rious heads, of a considerable diminution in the aggregate of the "bills of mortality."

Complaints against the "numeri innumeri," or innumerable number of books, are, for another reason, unjust. There would be no toy-shops, were there no children, who delight to play with them. Production, says the political economist, is in proportion to the demand or consumption. If reform is required here, or elsewhere, it is at hand-let every one reform himself, and the business is done, and done radically. Nor will I hear such readers and writers called idle. When Diogenes was seen rolling an empty tub about, he was accused by his fellow-citizens of idleness. "Idleness!" said he, "I idle!-I am very busy-I roll my tub!”

THE POETRY OF THE TROUBADOURS.

Chivalrie,

Trouth and honour, fredom and curtesie.

Chaucer.

THERE are certain ages, in the history of the world, on which the heart dwells with strong interest and affection; but there are none, which excite our curiosity, our admiration, and our love, more intensely than the days of chivalry. At that period, the world was enchanted, and history was a romance. The heart of man was bolder, and his arm firmer, than in these days of dull reality, while the spirit of adventurous knighthood was softened with heroic gentleness, and gallant love. The beauty of woman then was a boast and a treasure, and the "moral mixture of earth's mould" was worshipped as a starry divinity. But "the last crowning rose of all the wreath" was the universal spirit of poetical feeling, which was awakened in the heart of the nations, and which, in its mighty consequences, tended most powerfully to refine away the ignorance and barbarity, which had been the accumulation of centuries. The fountains of purer and gentler feelings were opened, and the impetuosity of their first gushing carried away the corruptions, which had confined them in their source. The effect of this spirit, on the happiness and manners of after-times, was prodigious. It spread refinement and civilization through the world, and, by awakening the soul to a sense of its own powers, it gave the first impulse to that progress of the intellect, which ensures, in its mighty advances, the liberty and the welfare of man.

But while such beneficial effects have resulted from this early dawn, and outbreak of mental power, it was necessarily accompanied by many counterbalancing circumstances. The human mind had suffered a great convulsion, and the disordered elements,

* Varro.

in assuming a nobler and purer shape, were occasionally mingled together most heterogeneously. All the passions of the heart worked freely and unchastised. In devotion, in love, in arms, and in song, the same vehement feelings of excess displayed themselves. Even the moral boundaries, which later and wiser times have prescribed for themselves, were unseen and disregarded, and this not from any willing proneness to vice, but from an ignorance of the obligations and excellence of virtue. The laxity of morals -not of moral feeling, if such a distinction can be made-which distinguished that age, laid the foundation of that blameable levity of feeling, which is said to be inherent in the female character in France, and which still continues to exist, though the moral sense of the world has been so materially changed. In the age of chivalry, no disgrace was attached even to the public avowal of female infidelity, and that callous depravity of heart, which is invariably consequent on the loss of the esteem and respect of our fellow-creatures, then seldom ensued. In the present article, we shall attempt to give some idea of the prevailing tone of sentiment, which distinguishes the poetical works of the Provençal writers, without entering into any disquisition respecting their history or language, which our limits will not allow us to do.*

The crowning ornament of the Gay Science was the lovepoems, in which it abounded, and which display the most extraordinary style of sentiment and expression. It would seem that the influence of woman, which, in the ages of classical refinement, had been slighted and disowned, was destined to be acknowledged in its most despotic shape, in the days of chivalrous enthusiasm. The sentiment was new in the world, and it was therefore excessive and unbounded. It did not bear the shape of love, affection, esteem, or reverence-but of passion, worship, and idolatry. The flood-gates of the heart were opened. In the poetry of the Troubadours, the passions seem to have been reduced to their elements, and to have been mingled together again in strange and marvellous union. Love, however, reigned, eminent and supreme over all, while the strongest emotions and passions of the mind were compelled into his despotic service. Ambition became his slave-for a smile was a guerdon, for which poets and princes contended, and the favour of a woman could bestow

* A very interesting and ingenious work has been lately published at Paris on this subject-Choix des Poesies Originales les Troubadours, par M. Raynouard, 1817," in 3 vols.; containing also a copious Grammar of the Language, and some curious Dissertations. More extensive information may be obtained by consulting Nostradamus, Millot, Crescimbeni, De Sade, Ginguene, and Sismondi, respecting the rise, progress, and extension of the Gay Science, and its language. There are also some valuable remarks in the first volume of Eichhorn's "Allgemeine Geschichte der Cultur und Letteratur des neueren Europa."

more honour, than the hand of a monarch could confer; nay, even Religion was made subservient to the power of Love, and the awful feelings of veneration, which are excited by contemplating the sanctity of Heaven, were lavished freely on an earthly idol. The sentiments of religious fear or hope, the strongest, perhaps, which can fill the human heart, were mingled with the passion of mortal love, and the terms which are only applicable to the majesty of Heaven, were bestowed, without hesitation, on a capricious mistress, apparently without the slightest expectation of scandalizing the pious, or insulting the devout. From the works of the Troubadours innumerable instances might be pointed out of this perversion of sentiment.* But, while this extravagance of allusion and comparison may be justly censured as most improper and absurd, yet in some of the compositions of this kind, where the expression of elevated and devotional feeling is mingled with the purity of earthly passion, their love-poetry acquires a deep and chastened tenderness, which the lighter productions of more modern days fail to display. M. Raynouard regards this as one of the distinctive characteristics of the Provençal writers, which those of no other nation, according to him, possess. This idea, however, is not correct; for, in the poetry of Scotland, we find the same delicate mingling of the tenderness of love, and of religious enthusiasm, which exists in the poems of some of the Troubadours, The songs and love-poems of Burns contain numerous instances of this. "Like all men of genius," says Dr. Currie, "he was of the temperament of devotion, and the powers of memory co-operated, in this instance, with the sensibility of his heart, and the fervour of his imagination." In the collection of Nithsdale and Galloway Songs, edited by the late Mr. Cromek, there are some verses, to which a more modern origin has been since assigned, which are strongly characteristic of this style of writing. The song is eminently tender and beautiful. The two first lines are sufficient to give an idea of the style:

I swear by my God, my Jeanie,

By that pretty white hand of thine,

And in another song, which has been lately published by the author, to whom the above is attributed, we have the same admixture of ideas. The simplicity of the image is complete:

* Some instances are collected by Ginguenè, Hist. Lit. D'Italie, i. 322.— Thus one poet tells us he would, without hesitation, abandon the joys of the blest, could he be assured of the love of his mistress. And another says, that if God would only render him beloved by his lady, he should believe that Paradise was stripped of all its delights. A third argues with his mistress, that there is no inequality of rank in love-those distinctions, says he, exist not in the eye of the Deity, who judges but by the heart; and addressing the lady, says "O perfect image of the Divinity, why dost thou not imitate thy model?"

† Currie's Burns, vol. i. p. 312.