P 5. Corps d'Extraits des Romans, tom. iii. p. 4. Fontenelle Theatre, tom. iii. We do not think that the direct testimony of these two witnesses (Frenchmen although they be) to the existence of a work which they themselves saw, can be weighed down by the negative affirmation of the Portugueze writers. But enough of praise will remain to Lobeira, if we suppose it was he who first modelled the romance into its present shape; and in this view his inven tive powers will deserve as much praise, as if he had not assumed for the groundwork the rude lays of some ancient French minstrel. Had Milton executed his projected epic upon the story of Brutus, the tale of Geoffrey of Monmouth would have little injured his claim to originality. Mr. Southey in his preface touches upon the endless continuations, so inartificially tacked to the original Amadis ART. III. Sappho; after a Greek Romance. 12mo. pp. 310. WIELAND, in the preface to his Peregrine Proteus, assures us, that he enjoys the possession of a talent in common with the renowned spirit of Swedenborg, by virtue of which his soul transports itself at times into the company of departed persons, and according as it is inclined, can either hearken unseen to their conversations with each other, or if it chooses, can join in conversation with them. Wieland has often exercised this faculty with the greatest advantage; for whenever his soul, after any of its visits to the departed shades below, or the Olympic gods above, returns into its earthly body, we are made very accurately acquainted with the conversation that passes among philosophers and moralists, and even among the immortals themselves. is the knotty question solved: "I believe, answered Nomophilus, that it is from the varying motion of those objects; and if such be the case, he continues, with much facetiousness, "let us go in quest of fresh amusement from motion and variety-having remained here long enough!" The author of the present volume has thus endeavoured to transport his readers into Greece, and introduce them to the company of the Lesbian muse. We meet her at dinner, we meet her at supper; we listen to her conversations with Eutychius and Nomophilus, and among other important subjects, hear discussed with becoming gravity and seriousness, the grave and serious questions "whence arises that attention with which we behold fountains?" and "why, during the severity of winter, is it so pleasing to assemble round the family hearth "" These are deliberated upon at length, and thus The story of Sappho is doubtless well fitted to be the ground-work of a romance; but in such hands as those of Wieland, it would have been made the vehicle also of much critical and philosophic learning here it is a mere story. The author has scraped together what history has recorded of this unfortunate female, for the sake of effect has added a few circumstances from the stores of his own fancy, and altoge ther produced a decent novel for the shelves of a circulating library. If history has not left it quite certain whether Phaon was insensible to the ardour of Sappho's passion, or unfaithful to his vows, the testimony in favour of the latter opinion certainly preponderates. "Cantalam: memini (meminerunt omnia amantes) Oscula cantanti, tu mihi rapta dabas, Hæc quoque laudabas; omnique a parte placebam Sed tunc precipue, cum fit amoris opus." Ovid agrees with those who assert that she lost her parents when very signalize himself by various deeds of prowess. Meanwhile Lisvard, blinded by ambition, betrothes his daughter Oriana to El Patin, emperor of Rome, thinking by that means to secure the succession of his crown to his younger daughter, whom he especially favoured. As this was contrary to the feudal establishment, his best counsellors and vassals remonstrate against it, but in vain. Oriana is embarked on her journey to Rome, when the Roman fleet is attacked by that of the Firm Island, totally de-, foated, and the princess carried to the island in triumph. Lisvard levies an army to avenge this insult, and two desperate battles are fought betwixt him and the knights of the Firm Island. At length, however, by the intervention of the hermit Nasciano and that of the young Esplandian, the loves of Amadis and Oriana become known, and a reconciliation being accomplished betwixt him and Lisvard, both armies turn their swords against Arcalaus, who had ho- . vered in the mountains to assail them when exhausted by mutual wounds. The romance concludes with the final defeat of the false enchanter, and the triumphant entry of Oriana into the forbidden chamber, by which the enchantments of the Firm Island were terminated; but above all with the marriage of Amadis and Oriana, the boldest knight and the most beautiful damsel in the universe. of language perfectly intelligible to mo, dern readers, but from the arrangement of the sentence and the occasional use of phrases, which, though not obsolete, are at least antiquated, he has united clearness with an appropriate and venerable cast of antiquity. Mr. Southey's original intention seems to have been to correct and republish the old English translation of Anthony Munday, but he judiciously exchanged his plan for a new version of the Spanish original, with the use of a copy of which he was accommodated from the valuable collection of Mr. Heber. The work is shortened, but not abridged. All unnecessary recapitulation and circuity of expression is avoided or condensed, and thus without omission of a fact or sentiment, the translation is one half shorter than that of Munday. Some preliminary remarks are given by way of preface, in which Mr. Southey ardently maintains that Amadis de Gaul was first written in the Portugueze language. The authors of that nation (with a single exception) claim it as the original composition of Vasco Lobeira, a valiant knight of Lisbon, who flourished during the reign of King Joam, and died at Elvas in 1403. The Portugueze edition of Lobeira is not now known to exist, the earliest version being executed by Garciordonez de Montalvo, a Spaniard, who professes to have compiled it from ancient histories. We do not think that Mr. Southey has clearly made out Lobeira's title to be the original author, at least in the strictest sense of the word. Nicolas de Herberay, Sieur des Essars, who in 1574 executed a French translation of Amadis from the Spanish of Montalvo, says, that he had seen a remnant of an old MS. on the same story, written in the Picard language, from which he thought that the Spanish authors had made their translation. Mons. de Tressan, after describ ing the collection of French romances lodged in the library of the Vatican by Christina of Sweden, affirms positively that he remembers there to have seen Amadis de Gaul written in very ancient French, being what Herberay described as the Picard language, the dialect of Picardy corresponding precisely to the The romance lang during the latter part Augustus, and VIII, and of dary dedication his translation, From this meagre sketch the reader may perceive at least the unity of the story of Amadis, in which all the adventures combine as directly to the same grand end as in the wrath of Achilles, or the wanderings of Ulysses, sung by the earliest romance writer, as well as the most sublime poet of antiquity. But the liveliness of the subordinate adventures of Don Galaor, together with the pointed discrimination of the inferior characters, can be only learned from the work itself. We venture to say that those who seek mere amusement will not be disappointed of their aim; and that those whose object is information, may learn more of the manners of chivalry, as well as of the structure of the ancient romance, by an attentive perusal of Amadis, than by a thousand modern essays. We grea stile in which Mr. S is executed. Dis modernizing wh being ancient, p. 5. Corps d'Extraits des Romans, tom. iii. p. 4. Fontenelle Theatre, tom. iii. We do not think that the direct testimony of these two witnesses (Frenchmen although they be) to the existence of a work which they themselves saw, can be weighed down by the negative affirmation of the Portugueze writers. But enough of praise will remain to Lobeira, if we suppose it was he who first modelled the romance into its present shape; and in this view his inventive powers will deserve as much praise, as if he had not assumed for the groundwork the rude lays of some ancient French minstrel. Had Milton executed his projected epic upon the story of Brutus, the tale of Geoffrey of Monmouth would have little injured his claim to originality. Mr. Southey in his preface touches upon the endless continuations, so inartificially tacked to the original Amadis In by a herd of Spanish imitators. Our limits would be exceeded by fur. ther commentary on this interesting article. In our opinion, the public is much indebted to Mr. Southey for restoring to general inspection what may be justly termed a classical romance of the first order, while the raciness of the original is so admirably preserved, that but for the introduction, the modern orthography, and the modern type, we could have believed it written under the auspices of the house of Tudor. ART. III. Sappho; after a Greek Romance. 12mo. pp. 310. WIELAND, in the preface to his Peregrine Proteus, assures us, that he enjoys the possession of a talent in common with the renowned spirit of Swedenborg, by virtue of which his soul transports itself at times into the company of departed persons, and according as it is inclined, can either hearken unseen to their conversations with each other, or if it chooses, can join in conversation with them. Wieland has often exercised this faculty with the greatest advantage; for whenever his soul, after any of its visits to the departed shades below, or the Olympic gods above, returns into its earthly body, we are made very accurately acquainted with the conversation that passes among philosophers and moralists, and even among the immortals themselves. is the knotty question solved: "I believe, answered Nomophilus, that it is from the varying motion of those objects; and if such be the case, he continues, with much facetiousness," let us go in quest of fresh amusement from motion and variety-having remained here long enough!" The author of the present volume has thus endeavoured to transport his readers into Greece, and introduce them to the company of the Lesbian muse. We meet her at dinner, we meet her at sup per; we listen to her conversations with Eutychius and Nomophilus, and among other important subjects, hear discussed with becoming gravity and seriousness, the grave and serious questions "whence on with which we be arises ha "why, during the The story of Sappho is doubtless well fitted to be the ground-work of a romance; but in such hands as those of Wieland, it would have been made the vehicle also of much critical and philosophic learning here it is a mere story. The author has scraped together what history has recorded of this unfortunate female, for the sake of effect has added a few circumstances from the stores of his own fancy, and altogether produced a decent novel for the shelves of a circulating library. If history has not left it quite certain whether Phaon was insensible to the ardour of Sappho's passion, or unfaithful to his vows, the testimony in favour of the latter opinion certainly preponderates. "Cantalam: memini (meminerunt omnia amantes) Oscula cantanti, tu mihi rapta dabas, Hæc quoque laudabas ; omnique a parte placebam Sed tunc precipue, cum fit amoris opus.” Ovid agrees with those who assert that she lost her parents when very young; and if not a wife, that she was ode, and made Sappho address it to at least a mother: Our author, on the contrary, makes Sappho a virgin; leaves her father and mother alive, and disconsolate at her flight into Sicil; and although Phaon is related to have received his death from the hand of an enraged husband, who surprized him in bed with his wife, he is here represented as most conscien. tiously insensible to the caresses of Sappho, his faith being pledged to a rival virgin! Some authors have supposed that the beautiful ode which is preserved in Longinus, was addressed to one of her female favourites; but the writer of this volume asserts, "that none of these scandalous histories have record or repute in Mity. lene:" he has, therefore, translated this Phaon. "As blest as a goddess is she, Who, sitting beside thee awhile, Can hear thy sweet converse, and see Thy face that enchants with its smile. «Yet this of its ease robb'd my heart; For, when lovely Phaon was nigh, My tongue not a word could impart, Its accents half-utter'd would die. "Flames subtly pervade ev'ry vein ; Mine eyes with thick mists, swimming round, All dark on a sudden remain ; Mine ears in deep murmurs resound: That any body should satisfy himself with this sing-song ditty, after the glowing version of Ambrose Phillips, or the more close but less spirited translation of the same fragment by Mason, is perfectly astonishing! The translation of the Hymn to Venus is in a better style, but will not bear a comparison with that of Ambrose Phillips. ART. IV. Thaddeus of Warsaw. By MISS PORTER. 12mo. 4 vols. about 220 pages each. THE high spirit of patriotism which animates the bosom of Thaddeus, could not have been more opportunely displayed than at this moment, when the alarm is revived of a meditated invasion from the most implacable and unmerciful of foes. Historical truth is in these pages made the handmaid of fiction: Miss Porter, desirous of pourtraying a character, which prosperity cannot intoxicate nor adversity depress, has chosen magnanimity as the subject of her story. Nowhere have the reverses of fortune given more ample scope for the display of this virtue than in Poland, whose unassisted sons struggled valiantly for her independence, and were afterwards doomed to grace the victorious car of their barbarian conquerors. Miss Porter has introduced some of the leading characters and events in the last hapless efforts of that ill-fated country: he who can tend the exploits of a Kosciusko and a Sobieski, without feeling his bosom warmed with the generous emotions of patriotism, would hear the beat to arms in defence of his own shores with a cold and insensible heart. We cannot for one instant doubt but that our resistance will be more successful, and that France will lead her ineffectual hordes to disgrace, discomfiture, and death; but in order to give additional vigour and effect to that resistance, let the massacres at Ismael and Prague be present to our recollection. The blood-stained hero of those scenes, indeed, is gone to answer for his guilt; but there is a living likeness left behind him, who would revive those scenes in all their horror: should his foot reach England, "The thirsty entrants of this soil, Would daub her lips with her own children's blood." Far is it from us to insult the misfortunes of a fallen man, but we cannot think the unhappy Stanislaus deserves all the encomium which Miss Porter bestows on his character: his intentions were benevolent, and he wished to save the lives of his subjects. But through age, probably, and infirmity, his mind had lost its vigour at that momentous crisis, when more than its pristine vigor was demanded. When at a council of deputies he laid before them the dispatches of the empress, and determined to surrender at discretion, she hould have put himself at the head of his army, he should have recalled to memory the unconquerable valour of La Valette, and he would have found that the nobles of Poland could emulate in intrepidity and persevering courage, the brave knights of Malta: perhaps Suwarrow and Bri ART. V. Very Strange but very True! A Novel. By FRANCIS LATHOм. MR. LATHOM is a gentleman who very frequently amuses himself in writing novels and plays. We have read some of his productions, and they have generally evinced a fertility of invention, rather than any refinement of taste, or cultivation of the understanding. His forte is low humor. In the present in stance he has descended to mere vulgarity: the characters here introduced are to the last degree unnatural, the story and the incidents equally improbable. nicky might have retired abashed, like Mustapha, and Hassem, bearing back to Catherine, as these did to Solyman, the ghost of a departed army! In Vol. II. p. 191, Miss Porter has unaccountably attributed Ambrose Phillips's translation of Sappho's celebrated ode, to Mr. Addison. or the History of an old Man's young Wife. 12mo. 4 vols. about 240 pages each. We regret that Mr. Lathom should waste his time and talents in this manner: instead of writing a foolish novel once a month, if he studied character with attention, and gave himself time to mature his plans, rather than trust to his inven tion as he proceeds, we are inclined to believe that he might produce something which would do him credit. That he should not perceive how much he lowers himself in the public eye by writing such stuff as this, is very strange but very true. ART. VI. The Depraved Husband and the philosophic Wife. By MADAME GENLIS. 12mo. 2 vols. PP. 325. MADAME GENLIS has endeavoured to shew the absurdity and viciousness of what is called modern philosophy, by exhibiting characters in which its principles operate in full force, We have several novels on this thread-bare subject in our own language, far more ably executed than the Depraved Husband and the Philosophic Wife, which is as dry and uninteresting a lecture as we ever read. ART. VII. Estelle: a Pastoral Romance. By M. de Florian, Member of the French Academy, and of those of Madrid and Florence. Embellished with seven Plates. Translated by Mr. MAXEY. TO translate, though a humble, is not always an easy task. "Grace," as Florian justly observes in the introduction of this very work, "is not translatable;" and grace is almost the sole merit of Estelle grace too of a kind so purely French, that the author himself could not have transfused it into another language. The plot of this romance is equally Gallic with the style, and most peculiarly uncongenial to English feelings. The childish fondness of Estelle and Nemorin has ripened, on their attaining the age of sixteen, into a passion which of course is pronounced invincible. The father of Estelle then induces Nemorin to banish himself from his fair shepherdess and his native village, by acquainting him that he had promised an old friend on his death-bed to marry her to his son. The shepherdess virtuously consents, without a moment's hesitation, to obey her father, by resigning her hand to one man, while she cherishes in her heart the fondest passion for another. Circumstances, however, occur to delay this horrible marriage; and the supposed death of the father, and the absence of the intended husband, leave Estelle at liberty to contract herself to her first love. In vain! the old man comes to life again, the young one returns, the submissive damsel receives this qui pro quo without a murmur, and the wedding is concluded. We must not, however, partake the despair of our disappointed hero; to hus-, bands in the situation of Meril, it is, indeed, "dangerous to take a cold, to sleep, to drink," how much more to go into battle! Meril is killed: the heroine in a very curious soliloquy on his grave, informs the hero and the reader that he had been her husband only in name, and that her heart is unchanged. She insists, however, on mourning her full year, with an attention to punctilio truly admirable |