the Aristotelian dialectics for guides, as warmly opposed; and some, blending both together, produced but an abortive theory. Even these disputes were productive of good, inasmuch as what was good in the one, was seized to make up for any evil or deficiency in another. It was difficult, however, for the plain truth to be evolved from this mass, through what appeared to be a veil of profound learning, but which (as was often the case) was only the result of an affected and ill-understood phraseology.

Reuchlin rendered much service to his successors by his translations of various Greek and Latin works, as also his Hebrew grammar, a list of which will be found appendiced to the very pleasing and wellwritten volume of which we are speaking.

While we warmly recommend the work to all our readers, we would notice, that the author in the last part of the work displays, to our thinking, some little incongruity. He appears inclined to restore the (now useless) initiations, the old occultations that shrouded the fact from the enquirer, that Christology should become a science, learned, secret, and mysterious, as in the days when Cabalistic theology tortured the minds of men to a height of senseless transcendentalism, that to have left the subject alone, in many cases, would have been a much better thing. That which is clouded by a mantle of symbols, signs, and secrecy, however gorgeous and imposing this fine-spun web may be, will at the last be found worthless and unimportant. The mystery creates the desire to know; but the truths of nature, of the Gospel of God, and of true religion, are too plain and evident facts to be mistaken by the most obtuse for other than they are. The "Apotheosis" of Erasmus is amusing, and shows the deep respect in which Reuchlin was held.

The Inferno of Dante Alighieri, Translated in the Terza Rima of the Original. With Notes and Appendix. By John Dayman, M.A., Rector of Skelton, Cumberland. London: W. E. Painter. 1843. One vol. 8vo., 285 pages.

THE Italian language, not less than the poetry of Italy, owes its creation to Dante. That immortal writer composed a sublime poem, to which he gave the general name of "La Divina Commedia," and which he divides into three parts, respectively entitled, Infernio, Purgatorio, and Paradiso; these parts he again subdivided into cantos, and the latter into triplets, the rhymes of which enchain into each other. It is the first of these three parts that Mr. Dayman has translated, and, we will add, with the fidelity of a Schlegel, or a Tieck. He has adopted the endecasyllabic lines with the terza rima of the original; and he appears to conceive that it is the first time that Dante has been so presented to the English reader. In this, however, we believe that he is not quite correct, as Byron has at least introduced the spirit of the great Padre Alighier in the same guise, and, in doing so, he notices that Hayley had previously employed the same metre, as might be seen, he says (for he had not read Hayley's poem) in the Notes to Beckford's " Vathek ;" and to

which we answer, that they are not to be found in the fourth English edition of that work, published in 1823.

Although Petrarch also adopted this measure to sing his Trionfi, yet is the terza rima a style of verse much better adapted to satirical poetry. And, indeed, notwithstanding many of the allegories of Dante are next to incomprehensible, and that they have been variously interpreted, yet if we examine the whole of his grand work with attention, it will be easily perceived that, from beginning to end, it is a satire, the shafts of which are aimed against the most celebrated personages of his time. As a medium for conveying satire, it has been successively adopted by the most celebrated satirical poets of Italy; such as Ariosto, Aretino, Coppetta, Caporali, Nelli, Paterno, Adimari, Salvator Rosa, Menzini, and Berni, who drew from it the new style of satirical poetry, named from him stile Bernesco. It is, however, certain that the terza rima has been employed also with success in the composition of elegies, epistles, eclogues, and even odes-particularly by Monti.

With all his fame, we think that Dante, like many a brother author, whether native or foreign, is more quoted and spoken of in England, than known and read; his name being familiar to us as household words, is no proof that we are personally on intimate terms with him. With regard to us, he is what the Greek language was to himself-often praised, often quoted, and yet unknown. Dr. Johnson said that quotation was the watchword of literary men; but quotation is no more proof of a scholar, than the possession of bricks can be said to be of an architect; neither, indeed, is such learning of any great importance to an original poet; and we would rather believe that Dante's celebrated inscription over the gate of hell," Lasciate ogni speranza, voi ch'entrate," was the hot and fierce coinage of his own brain, than that he merely stamped it, in cold imitative mood, because Thales, in speaking of the preciousness of Hope, had long before him observed-όις αλλο μηδεν, αυτή παρεστιν -they possess it who have nought beside.

Lorenzo de' Medici was the first to point out that the proofs of the excellence of the Italian tongue are to be sought for in Dante, Petrarcha, and Boccaccio; for they were the authors who had shown with what facility that language might be adapted to the expression of every sentiment; and that this opinion prevailed early in England, as well as that there were authors who endeavoured to aid in propagating this opinion, is clear from the fact of the publication, in 1550, of a work entitled "Principal Rules of the Italian Grammar, with a Dictionarie for the Better Understanding of Boccase, Petrarche, and Dante, gathered into this Tongue by W. Thomas."

Whether we regard the fidelity of Mr. Dayman's translation, its intrinsic excellence of expression, or its utility as an aid to students, we consider it equally worthy of recommendation; its perusal has recalled to our minds not merely the cherished beauties of the original, but many a page of contemporary history-the light, as it were, by which Dante composed his unequalled pocm. For it was

hen that painting had been revived by Cimabue and Giotto; that Casella had restored music; and that architecture and sculpture were displaying to the world a poetry of its own; and then it was, too, that history itself was simply and honestly written by Villani; that morals and philosophy became the objects of the study of man; and that Italy first began to possess, and preserve for posterity, those precious relics that had sprung from the varied intellectual powers of their almost divine creators, and which, but for the spirit that animated the wealthy patrons of inspired men, had become as lost to us as are those illustrations of Dante's poem, which Michael Angelo is reported to have made, and which are said to have perished at sea.

We would willingly conclude with a specimen of the translator's "cunning of craft," which is the description of the punishment of the slothful, but we really cannot find room for any extracts.

The Pastor Chief; or, the Escape of the Vaudois. A Tale of the Seventeenth Century. London: Cunningham and Mortimer. 1843. We have a much higher, and, we trust we may say, a holier object, in noticing this book, than that of commending a work of literary merit to the attention of the public. As a tale, it is one of surpassing interest, and many of its passages are of the very first order, in point of taste, power of language, and imagination; but our admiration and sympathy are principally excited by the cause which it advocates. Its pages rivet the mind of the reader from the first to the last; and the political, religious, and moral lessons which pervade them, are instructive and captivating far beyond what we are in the habit of expecting from volumes, which seem at first sight to be meant for entertainment only. In fact, we are in doubt as to the original intention of the nameless author. It is not a mere book-making production. A spirit of no ordinary kind breathes out of it, and we think it has been put together with the hope of presenting some of the most solemn facts and truths of history, under the popular form of a tale, to the observation of a class of readers, who have yet to be taught that there is nothing in all the wide region of romance and poetry so romantic, so heroic, so wonderful, so poetic, as some of the events of real life. Perhaps there is a still more serious meaning lurking under these attractive pages, and it is not unlikely that the author wishes to replace before the eyes, even of the thoughtful, those red-letter days of the old almanac history, which are seldom kept in sight as they should be, but which ought to be observed by the vigilant, not only as memorials of the past, but as watchwords of caution for the present and the future.

We think, then, that the "Pastor Chief, or the Escape of the Vaudois," has been brought out as a seasonable publication, at this particular crisis, to warn us, that the fury of Rome against Protestants never changes, never softens, never slumbers, but is always on

the watch to entrap the unwary, to destroy the weak, and to carry out its dark purposes, in utter disregard of all that is honest, just, pure, or lovely. You may deceive, coax, decoy, betray, ravage, demolish, subvert, and sever-never mind what you do, says the emissary of Rome, only uplift Rome, and trample, as opportunity may offer, on the necks of those who would oppose her. "Delenda est Carthago." For Carthage, read Protestantism. Rome, whether Pagan or Papal, has ever been the destroyer of all that submit not to her yoke; and the voice that issued from the seven hills two thousand years ago, and a thousand years ago, and a hundred years ago, is still heard, sometimes in clamorous violence, and at other times in low and half-muttered, but not less formidable accents, "Delenda est." The tale of the seventeenth century will, a few years hence, be the tale of the nineteenth century, and it will not tell of the escape, but of the utter destruction of the Vaudois, and of every other helpless Protestant Church (one after another), if Dan remain in his ships, and Asher on his sea-shore, and if the divisions of Reuben continue, heedless of the bleatings of the flock, which is next marked for destruction.

Believing that the " Pastor Chief" is one sound more of the alarum bell, which has too often been rung in vain, we call attention to its solemn warning peal. There are its silvery notes also, to which we would gladly say, listen; but we must leave them to the notice of those who love to be invited to scenes of landscape beauty, and of courtly splendour, depicted in the colours of glowing diction. We turn, therefore, from the charming vales of Angrogna, and from the palaces of Versailles and Turin, where the dramatis persona, Louis XIV., Madame de Maintenon, Louvois, Victor Amadée, and his counsellors, courtiers, and confessors, are so graphically described, to the terrible events of 1686, of which the former are only meant to be the contrasting lights, that the whole may be set off in bold and striking relief.

The historical foundation on which the "Pastor Chief, or the Escape of the Vaudois," is built, is the marvellous preservation of the Waldensian community, in spite of all that has been done by Rome for its destruction. The principal scenes lie in the three Protestant valleys of Piedmont, at the foot of the Alpine range of mountains between Mount Genevre and Mount Viso, when Victor Amadée, Duke of Savoy, after issuing his mandate for the discontinuance of Protestant worship, poured in French and Piedmontese troops by thousands, to devastate the property, and imprison or destroy the persons, of those who should refuse submission to his will.

The tale opens at the exact point of time when the horrible cruelties committed by the soldiery roused the peasant population to arms, and the cry of " Death rather than the Mass" changed the soft nature even of women and children, and made the tender mother surrender her offspring to the sword, rather than to the Romish priest.

Henri Arnaud, of the Reutrée Glorieuse, is the hero, and his daughter Marie is the heroine of the tale. The character of the

former is not so well drawn as it might have been, and falls below its true historical standard; but that of the latter is one of the most successful efforts at the portrait of a lovely, virtuous, and nobleminded woman that has ever been made; and we are mistaken if Marie Arnaud be not henceforth a name which will live in the nomenclature of female devotedness and heroism, and pass from mouth to mouth like an household word. We will not, however, diminish the interest which will be taken in the perusal of the book, by an explanation of its plot and catastrophe. There are some mistakes in the narrative as to dates and localities, and a few departures from historical accuracy, especially with regard to Henri Arnaud himself, but these can easily be corrected in a new edition. We are too well pleased with the beauties of the book to dwell upon any of its defects. The following selection will serve as a specimen of the author's style, and powers of description :

:

The daughter of Henri Arnaud, Marie, is condemned to the rack, to force a confession from her.

"But Marie, rallying her courage, replied, My lord, I fear not the power of any living being to extract an unwilling confession from me.'

"No living being, perhaps, obstinate heretic! (exclaimed the cardinal, provoked at her resolution); but the rack-the torture! bethink you of that. There was a shudder through the listening crowd as these words were uttered, and a silence, in which the deepdrawn breath of expectation might be heard in anxiety for her to whom they were addressed. And now conviction spread over Marie's brain. At first, she had not dreamt it; and a feeling of dread and horror overcame her, such as she had never hitherto known. There is something in death, which, to great minds, is not all fear, and to the religious is full of hope; but the martyrdom of the body, the uncertainty of our powers of endurance, the lingering torment, and the ignominy of the failing heart, the bravest shrink from; and a hue so ashen stole over Marie's countenance, a shudder so convulsive shook her frame, that none could doubt but that she knew and could estimate the full horror of the alternative before her." (Vol. ii., pp. 249, 250).

"The rack! torture!-alas! she knew its meaning too well. But did she hesitate in that moment of deep thought? No, she boldly faced the image of terror before her; but her whole heart and soul were wrapped in prayer for help to endure it, undisturbed by vain hesitation. The expectant audience, the surrounding judges, closely scrutinized the varying hue of that pale cheek, which was gradually deepening into a warmer flush; but no one ventured with one syllable to interrupt the meditation whose solemnity was that of prayer, till the cardinal, elevating his watch, said

"The time has elapsed for the prisoner's decision. Marie Arnaud, speak.'

"A moment of death-like silence ensued; it was not that the prisoner did not hear, though her face was covered with her hands,