of rhyme (though not always regularly), similar to that called assonant and much used by the Spaniards. Perhaps it would be agreeable to our readers to have some example of this assonance and monorhyme, which are not very generally known, and may both be seen in this romancero. When the vowel or the vowels of the last syllable of a line, upon the point where the last accent falls, are the same as those of the final syllable of the line with which it rhymes, it has the regular assonance. The Italian poets of the twelfth and thirteenth century have some instances of these rhymes. We give here one example from the legend of St. Margaret : E si trova nella sua leggenda, E la scrittura il manifesta.- Quale Dio ella vuole adorare. E filava in sua rocca Non so se bambagia, o lino, o stoppa. The Spanish also, like the more ancient poets, sometimes thought it sufficient that the last syllable only should rhyme, as in the following lines from the same legend : Ma si diciano d'un maestro, In the cantos of the romancero of the Cid, the first and third line of every strophe do not rhyme, the second and fourth do; and the same assonance is repeated alternately through the whole poem. This is one form of the monorhyme, which continues the assonance or consonance through several lines, or at least as many as the poet can find terminations for. It has, from time immemorial, been much in use among the Arabians. The poems called "divani," some of which are thus written, may be cited as examples. The anonymous author, or authors, of the Cid frequently composed a hundred lines with but one assonance, without however rejecting the consonant rhymes which presented themselves spontaneously; he often admitted lines without either assonance or consonance; sometimes, on the other hand, he seems suddenly to grow weary of one assonance, and changes it for another. In the poems of Don Gonzales de Berceo, who flourished about the year 1220, we find lines rhyming by fours with one regular consonance; and, with some slight exception, this rule was for a long time followed by the Castilian poets. The custom of alternating or crossing the rhyme did not, we think with Sartorius, begin among them until the time of Juan de Mena, who lived in the fourteenth century. Instances of monorhyme are frequent among the Provençal poets of the twelfth century, and some believe, though falsely, that they were the first inventors of alternate rhyme. From the twelfth century the Italians wrote canzoni with the alternation, or as the French say, the crossing of the rhyme; the dialogue between Amante and Madonna, by the poet Ciullo d'Alcamo, is composed in this style; there is also a sonnet by Ludovico della Vernaccia, in regular and alternate rhyme, which is referred to about the date 1200, and may be read in the collection of the poets of the first century, printed in 1816 at Firenze. This is also evident from the employment of them in the modern languages which spring from the Latin; for the rest it is worth the while to read the learned fortieth dissertation of Muratori in his Antichita del Medio Evo. In this he demonstrates upon incontrovertible authority and example, that the Italians received the use of rhyme from the Arabians, and perhaps from the people of the north who ruled over Italy; that anteriorly to its existence in the vulgar Roman language, assonant, consonant, and alternate rhyme were used in the barbarous Latin. Of this he brings forth an example taken from a book of anthems of the seventh or eighth century, belonging to a monastery in Ireland, and now to the Ambrosian library; it is as follows: Vera regalis aura, Variis gemmis ornata, Gregisque Christi caula, Patre summo servata. Virgo valde fecunda, Hæc et mater intacta, Læta ac tremebunda Verbo Dei subacta. In his beautiful translations from Spanish into Italian, professor Biava has given some happy examples of assonant rhyme; but we shall speak of him in a future article upon the most illustrious modern Italian poets, among whom Biava occupies a distinguished rank. The metre then in which the Romancero is written is a Castilian octosyllabic, which, from the character of the language, is more sustained and lofty than the Italian; and the regular return of the same assonance throughout the entire canto imparts considerable sweetness to this kind of verse, which is very musical and well adapted to singing. We may add that the Spanish Language is more prolix than the Italian, though in its poetry there is greater simplicity of expression. The comparison of the Castilian poetry with the Italian, exhibits the graver character of the former, which without a very artificial arrangement of the words, is sustained and sonorous, but less expressive and energetic than the Italian. These things are pointed out by Salvini, with our admirable translator, because they account for the kind of metre he chose; and for this reason we recommend them to the notice of all who attempt the translation of these poems from the Spanish. For this reason also we admire Monti, because even in his Italian, he adheres to the antique, and preserves several forms of the fourteenth century, which powerfully contribute to give to his work a very appropriate coloring of antiquity. Monti has placed at the beginning of his very accurate work, these words of Salvini: "Like the Sculptor Demetrius, I have been more careful for the truth than the elegance of my portraits."Whoever possesses any knowledge of the original poetry of the Cid, and of the Castilian Language, must appreciate the method pursued by Monti; and we would suggest to all, into whatever language they wish to translate the Cid, the necessity of a careful selection of words, expressions adapted to preserve the ancient character of the original, a degree of calmness, freedom, and ease, which to some of the more pedantic even of the present day, may seem too facile and vulgar, but which nevertheless are very difficult to obtain; and when obtained give great efficacy to the style. In the Romancero del Cid, those parts which we deem most beautiful, and which are our favourites, are: Diego Lainez trying the courage of his sons,-the. challenge of the Cid--the Cid showing to his father the head of Count Luzzano-the Cid presenting himself to king Ferdinand I-the lamentations of Chimena-Chimena demanding her husband of the Cid-the combat of the four knights-Dolfos killing king Sancio-the dispute of the Cid with Bermudo-the clemency of the Cid, and the presents he makes-the Cid giving commands for the removal of his corpse-and the will of the Cid. We advise such of our readers as are desirous of prosecuting these studies to read the life of the Cid by Johann Müller, the first German historian; and another written with much learning by the celebrated Don Manuel Josef Quintana, of Madrid, who from the beauty of his poetry has been called the Tyrtæus of Spain. In future numbers of our Magazine, we shall probably give a sketch of some other Spanish authors, such as the Marquis de Santillana; Gil Polo; Gargilasso della Vega; Don Alfonso de Ercilla; Manuele de Vilegas; Mendoza; and some others. But perhaps we shall be asked why we draw attention to poetry so simple and ancient as this. We hope, however, that the time is passed for such interrogations, since both criticism and philosophy, as Berchet has abundantly proved, derive much benefit from their application to these studies. It is now sixty years since Johann Herder made a noble effort to establish a taste for simple and inerudite poetry; and although he did not select the best specimens, he reasoned with such effect, that in a very short time after, this kind of primitive popular poetry issued in great abundance from the press, sometimes in the original text, sometimes in translation. Then men of letters, poets, all abandoning the pride of their ancestors, delighted to cull these sweet and simple flowers, not only from neighbouring nations, but also from those more distant, and which in some respects we term barbarous. In the search for these flowers in their mental travel, they were constantly guided by the feeling, that wherever there is a principle of civilisation, wherever among men there is any community of tradition, custom, affections, there is poetry; and that poetry, though unlearned, and without a studiously refined elegance of forms, finds means of utterance from the human heart, and of exciting with great power the minds of nations not yet fallen from the multiplied enjoyments of an established civilisation. Hence the number greatly augmented of collections of original popular poetry of various nations, and in all languages, translations multiplied to even excess, for often they were attempted without an adequate knowledge of the language of the original, and therefore without preserving its primitive colouring and harmony. Indeed some translated from translations, not caring to give more than a sketch, an outline of the works translated. Now, however, things are improved, and collections of Chronicles, of ancient poetry of all nations appear in the original text, from which translations are made, and comments appended; and thus in the republic of letters a reciprocated communion of mind is established, and nations combine to assist and promote the fraternisation of universal society. For us therefore it only remains, in connection with the mention of these inestimable publications, that we should endeavour to inspire translators and editors with the spirit of courage and perseverance in the pursuit of their noble labours, and adjure all nations to continue to sow in multiplied abundance this precious seed, which springing up may bring forth the glorious fruit of universal fraternisation. But if we take only an æsthetic view of literature; if we neglect to become acquainted with the chef d'œuvres of every nation and school, we stolidly deprive ourselves of great intellectual improvement and delight. He who would in his works emulate the immensity of nature, should represent the beautiful under an infinite variety of aspects, each according with the diversified impressions made upon him by the circumstances of place and time, and his own individual position. But in all its variety, the beautiful is ever in conformity with certain eternal principles, and therefore immutable and one. Considerations of this kind, we believe, are calculated to convey useful counsel and an important lesson to a class of individuals, who, wholly enslaved to certain forms of beauty, would banish all modern literature, and are unable to depart from a set of fixed rules, cherished only by themselves, and being in reality nothing more than distorted impressions from Greek or Latin models, which they remember only as a dream of their early scholastic studies. Were they capable of thoroughly comprehending certain affections and certain ideas, ancient enough truly, but which neverthless appear to us still new and modern, they would assuredly find in them abundant force and richness. They would behold the human mind excited in a great variety of ways, and with an ever-increasing intensity. But perhaps imperfection of form to a certain degree proceeds from this very source: the richer and more numerous the material, the greater the difficulty of giving them a simple and distinct form. The beauty of a composition, says Guizot, consists in its simplicity and symbolic unity. It is, however, extremely difficult to combine this simplicity, this distinctness, with the astonishing variety of ideas and affections inwoven in European civilisation; but the difficulty will cease when we have learned to appreciate and carry out the efforts of such men as Dante, Shakspeare, Calderon, Lopez de Vega, Milton, Klopstock, Schiller and Goethe. The examination of the question of preference between ancient and modern in this respect, will show the great advantage to be derived from a study of the modern literature, not of Europe alone, but of the whole world. For ourselves, we repeat unceasingly, we shall always entertain an earnest desire for the multiplication of these polyglott publications, regarding them as monuments of the civilisation and history of former times, as well as instruments of fraternising social progress for the future. Therefore when we see such a book as the Romancero del Cid, and contemplate it æsthetically, we feel our veneration attracted, as by a picture of Cimabue or Albert Durer: but when we consider it with reference to its utility as an example tending to keep alive the publication of popular traditional poetry, which may exert so powerful and ameliorating an influence upon the destinies of nations, then with an earnest prayer for the well-being of the noble people of Spain we feel disposed, at the mention of the very title of the Romancero, to bow our head in reverence, as the cicerone (eriado) of Toledo did at the mention of the names of Maria Padilla and the Cid. LOVE AND CHARITY. No. 4.-Selected from the Records of the Eccentric Club. NICK SOBER, Hon. Sec. WE communicated to the public, in our last paper, the opinions of the club on the subject of Animal Magnetism, and it has since afforded us much amusement to observe the different impressions which it has made upon our friends. Indignation, merriment and sorrow have been alternately expressed, and such contradictory sentences have been passed upon our conduct, that we rejoice in not having followed the example of the man in the fable, but, instead of endeavouring to please others, have studied only to please ourselves. To those philosophers who suppose that we have not treated the subject with sufficient reverence, we beg most humbly to apologise; and we promise that we will, for the future, apply our minds most vigorously to the consideration of this abstruse subject, trusting that our understandings will be duly enlightened, and our respect proportionately increased: to those who regard the weakness of credulity with compassion, we proffer this advice, that they should first pity their own; and to those who laugh, we declare that we are, for the sake of sociality, very willing to laugh with them. Our friend Balance, has, however, fallen in for the greatest share of censure; and, in proof of this, we have much pleasure in relating an anecdote which he, this evening, communicated to the club. It appears that Ned, about a fortnight since, attended a party at Lady Buckram's, where, it is well known, men of science and literature are accustomed to assemble. He had no sooner made his bow, than the Honourable Miss M, a spinster of the old school, being remarkable for a figure as prim as Pomona carved in box, in a Dutch flower garden, and conversation as dark as the clouds, began to lecture him, in very learned style, on the folly of narrating so ridiculous a story as appeared in the late Monthly; and affirmed, moreover, that she was, personally, a living instance of the effects of Animal Magnetism ;---a fact which Ned had no disposition to controvert. The lady had scarcely talked herself out of breath when Dr. Muffle interposed, and, by force of smiting his left breast, tenderly pressing the hands of several maiden ladies, and performing a few other analogous magnetic actions, he made the company believe that Animal Magnetism was the sovereign secret of life and feeling, and that our unlucky friend was an incredulous coxcomb. Ned, however, was not readily discomfited, and he declared, with a good show of reason, that if the able Doctor could magnetise him, he would believe in the science to the fullest extent. The Doctor was not prepared for such a proposal, and, with a little embarrassment, said, "that there were two things absolutely necessary for the evolution of Animal Magnetism, neither of which were present in this experiment ;---the first was that the operator must be |