writer.

whom has become deranged in consequence the principal authors should be analytically of her husband's death. Should the story examined. Prince Volkonsky has contribe well conducted to the end it can hardly buted an article on the Divina Commedia; fail to prove one of the most successful works but whether Voltaire be correct or not in of the kind to which Russia has yet given saying Dante is now never read, we are birth. At all events, the scene and charac- made to read so much about him and his ters being altogether national, it is so far poem,-upon which every dabbler in Italian preferable to Zotov's romance. has something to say, that we could very The Sovremennik or Contemporary, it- well have spared what is not at all recomself, is not so much a periodical as a work mended by novelty of any kind. The same brought out periodically; it having nothing may in some measure be said of Byron; whatever of the character of a journal,except- nevertheless, as many of our readers may ing a list of new books at the end of each be curious to learn what view is taken of volume, four of which appear in the course their countrymen's talents and character by of a year. In fact, it is merely a collection a critic so far north, we extract the followof magazine articles in prose and verse, by ing picture of him from a tale, which, were various contributors, among whom are se- we to trust to the initials affixed to it, we veral of the most popular literary names of might conclude to be by Ivan Bulgarin, the day; and it also contains various, till now, though the story itself has too much of unpublished pieces by the late Alexander German mysticism and mysteriousness in it Pushkin, for the benefit of whose family the to allow us to imagine it proceeds from that work was brought out. Among these is the fragment of an unfinished historical novel, entitled the Arap, or Moor, of Peter the Great. The plot hinges upon the desire of Peter to secure a bride for his sable fa. vourite in the daughter of one of his nobles, greatly to the scandal of some members of her family, and to the extreme dissatisfaction of the young lady, she having already provided herself with a lover more to her liking, though not her father's. Another of his pieces is a critique on Chateaubriand's Milton, or rather observations on Milton and on Chateaubriand, in which he shows himself very well acquainted with both the writings and the character of our great English bard; and in the course of which he takes occasion to animadvert very strongly on Victor Hugo and Alfred de Vigny, for the little respect manifested for Milton in the part they have severally assigned him in "Cromwell" and "Cinq Mars." We observe, this is not the first time Victor Hu. go has been taken to task by a Russian, since his Notre Dame is treated very cavalierly by Baron Brambeus, alias Senkovsky, in his satrical tale intituled Satan's Levee, in which production there are many traits reminding us of Swift's sarcasm and general freedom of speech.

may

Our regret at finding so few articles of critical disquisition in the Sovremennik is rather increased than lessened by the perusal of the one above referred to, and PrinceViazemsky's literary biography of the dramatist Von Visin. The latter is the more acceptable, because this is a department of literature hitherto almost untouched in Russia; and the biography introduced furnishes an excellent model for an entire series wherein the characters and writings of all

"Shakspeare," said the baron, “comprised in himself a type of all nations and all ages. In him we have the essence of romance and of poetry; of playful song, and of profound Philosophy. Since his death, his fame has thousands of commentators have fastened upextended itself immeasureably; accordingly, on his writings, and, after tearing them to pieces with their claws, have employed themselves in attempting to analyse them chemically, or in examining them microscopically. Yet up to this moment, they have obtained nothing from all their experiments; their reand why? Because Shakspeare is nature,— torts have not been able to extract his essence; because his genius took its root in the human heart, while with its topmost boughs it reached the sky."

"Yet, what has all this to do with Byron? It does not follow, because Shakspeare was great that Byron was not so likewise. Shakspeare was not fully appreciated by his contemporaries; neither, at first was theo fi er performance very severely." for the Edinburgh Review lashed his rst

66

And very justly. In fact, his Hours of Idleness betray such feebleness and mediocrity, that on reading them, it is difficult for us to be persuaded they were penned by a writer of talent-and after all, Byron certainly was a man of talent—just that and

no more."

"How!-a mere man of talnt-a talented poet and no more! Is it thus you describe him whose genius has excited the admiration of all Europe! Excuse me, baron, but I really did not take you to possess so much prejudice or so much pride, as 'in contradiction to the opinion of the whole world"— know has no weight with me; neither can I "As for the opinion of the world, that you be said to show myself the slave of prejudice in venturing to oppose it, consequently, you are not very logical in your expressions

when you charge me with being prejudiced infested the world with its monster brood. in opposing the prejudices of the people. But Notwithstanding that he had a limping foot, to return to Byron, how can you pretend to Byron had no little of the fop in his composi say that he was undervalued by his contem- tion, and had cleverness and vogue enough poraries, when there never was a writer to be able to set new fashions in poetry and whose literary fame stood so high during his in shirt-collars, giving a highly poetical turn lifetime?" to the latter. In the year 1812, Childe Ha"Yet was he not persecuted by his coun- rold made its appearance, and forthwith trymen, because he ventured to unmask their caused a kind of misanthropical scepticism hypocritical pretensions to morality? Even to be considered good ton: every one, accornow the traditions have not entirely died dingly, affected it, and pretended to hold the away which represented him to be a young whole human race in contemptuous scorn. man devoid of principle, the champion of Such, at least, was then the prevailing mood immorality in his poems, and a nobleman of in England. From that instant Byron began insufferable bad ton(!) Thus was he judged to pour out, one after the other, effusions conand spoken of in London society, to which ceived in the same strain, breathing fierce for whatever poetic feeling it may now pos- despair and icy misanthropy in every line; sess, has to thank Byron himself. Before and so far I give him credit for knowing he appeared it had produced no distinguished how to avail himself of the foible of public talent; for I do not here include eminent po- taste. * * * * * Trust me, the time is litical characters, who constitute a class by approaching when Byron will take his themselves. Do you therefore, I ask, side place in the category of the past; and with those public adversaries who endeavour- when, although his talent will always ed to cry down the poet of Childe Harold?" command respect, it will cease to have "All this sounds very fine; yet I do not any influence whatever upon literaperceivewherefore the London public,or rather ture."

the public of Great Britain, ought to be slan

dered, because Lord Byron was a young This speaker in the dialogue then goes man devoid of religious or moral principle; on to criticise Manfred, which he contends or, what is still worse, desired to pass for is merely a puny imitation of Göthe's Faust, such. Englishmen readily concede him very and otherwise animadverts very freely upon high poetical merit-great power of versifi

cation, mastery of language, brilliance of ex- the English poet, both as a writer and a pression, with occasionally a really profound man giving us a quantity of paltry and thought, generally borrowed, however, from mistaken criticism like much of the foregoShakspeare who seems to have held the torching, suited only to the poorest capacity. to your favourite poet; yet this does not Of the Russian novel-writers we need blind them to the extravagances of his con

duct, extravagances he could very well merely observe that at present they are purhave afforded to dispense with, and which suing an erroneous course, adhering as if certainly did not add any real lustre to it were a particular merit, to all the convenhis literary character. On the whole, it is tional and worn-out forms; falling in conseless as a poet than as a man that I judge quence into the flimsy and vapid, no less in Byron. Perhaps I am deficient in that the serious than in the frivolous; and studiwarmth of feeling that would enable me to ously avoiding, as it would seem, all that do justice to him in the former capacity; bears upon the stronger and more permabut I must say that his Corsairs, whose flag nent interests of society, and comes home to the sceptre all who meet obey,' strike me as being not a little ridiculous and theatrical its feelings and understanding. If this spe withal, because your real corsair trembles in cies of literature is incapable of higher aim good earnest as soon as he catches sight of than furnishing a gossiping kind of reading the flag of an English frigate, and instantly to the idle and indolent; if, like Scheherzade, makes all sail he can, in order to escape its office is to lull us into an agreeable drow. from the countrymen of the poet who has siness between sleeping and waking, then described him to be a prodigy of valour and indeed it matters little of what its gossip con. daring hardihood. In my opinion, the war. fare of pirates partakes very little of the Sists, so long as it is not positively perniheroic or poetical, since they invariably recious. But such productions, far from serve their attacks for the weakest foe, and advancing the literature of a country must have no higher ambition that to pillage tra- themselves lose all literary caste, and find ders and merchant ships, carefully avoiding their level infinitely lower among the mass men of war. Doubtless Childe Harold made of trifles that engage the trifling, and on in its day a very strong sensation, on account which alone they fix their lethargic attenof its being quite a novelty-the first Childe tion; mistaking moonshine for reality through Harold the world had seen; yet since then

we have had so many of the race, both in utter ignorance, wilful or involuntary, of what real life and poetry, that I hardly know constitutes the interests and pursuits not of whether we ought to feel grateful towards mere idlers but of the active and actual the prototype, or anathematize it for having world.

ART. V.-Doña Isabel de Solis, Reyna de Granada; Novela Historica. (Da. Isa. bel de Solis, Queen of Granada; an Historical Novel.) By Don Francisco Martinez de la Rosa. Madrid, 1837.

1828, he published in Paris a collection of his lyrical and other poems, among which the "Siege of Saragossa" and a few light compositions were very much admired. He also wrote, while in Spain, some dramas for the theatre; namely, Lo que puede un EmTHE author of this novel has often been be- pleo (The Effects of a Place ;) and La Hija fore the public; some of his works have en Casa y la Madre en las Mascaras. (The already been reviewed by the literary peri- Mother at the Masquerade and the Daugh odicals of this metropolis, and his name as a ter at Home.) Tragedy he likewise atstatesman and a politician has of late acqui- tempted though without much success, and red no small celebrity: we may therefore wrote La Viuda de Padilla, (The Widow take a passing glance of his life, so far as of Padilla,) to an edition of which he prefixed concerns his writings. Martinez de la Rosa a very learned introduction upon the wars began his literary career by the publication, of the Comunidades, written with great viin 1808, of some witty pamphlets upon the gour and spirit; Moraima, Edipo, also traeffects which the invasion of the Spanish gedies; The Conspiracy of Venice, a drama, territory by the troops of Buonaparte was lately acted in the theatres of Madrid, and calculated to produce on a nation eminently which, we believe, has never been printed; proud, and holding fast and tenaciously to and another drama, written in French, and its ancient institutions. After this first suc. performed with some success at the Porte cess, he obtained farther reputation by the St. Martin in Paris, bearing the title of Abenpublication of an essay upon the Spanish Omeya. Since his return to his country he Insurrection of 1808, which appeared in a has published an historical work with the title journal of that period called El Español. of Bosquejo Historico (Historical Sketch,) But at the same time that he cultivated lite- containing a narrative of some of the events rature, Martinez de la Rosa played a most which preceded the conquest of Granada conspicuous part in the Cortes of 1813, by Ferdinand and Isabella; and the first where he was considered as one of the most volume (only) of a political work, called El eloquent Spanish orators. This, as well as Espiritu del Siglo: The Spirit of the Age. the active share which he took in the admin- In fact, he has left no branch of literature istration of the Peninsula during the untouched; but, as he himself acquaints us captivity of King Ferdinand VII., brought in the preface to the novel now lying before upon him the ill-will and anger of that mon-us, seems to have undertaken the arduous arch, who, upon his return to his paternal task of trying all. The perusal of Scott's dominions in 1814, caused the author to be admirable novels, and those of his imitators cast together with Arguelles and several in France, Germany, and Italy, led M. de other eminent patriots, into one of the dun-la Rosa to write the present, the principal geons on the coast of Africa. It has been scene of which is in the city of Granada, said that the persecution to which he was on his birth-place, and whose history and tradi this occasion exposed, and his long imprison- tion she has investigated with peculiar interest ment, impaired his health and preyed upon and attention. We have stated so much his spirits it has even been hinted by cri- with regard to this writer, and now proceed tics, who, while reviewing his works, were, to the review of his work; although our we fear, under the influence of party, that by judgment may be, we fear, in some measure his long confinement he has lost a great deal restrained by the circumstance, not uncom⚫ of that liveliness which was discernible in mon in Spain, of only the first volume havall the writings of his youthful years; and ing been published; without the author deemthat, even after he had been restored to liber-ing it necessary to inform us whether the rety and to power, a certain dejection was mainder is written or will ever be printed. always perceivable, both in his speeches and At the time when the novel begins (1475), compositions. But this assertion is entirely the fortress of Martos, which belonged to the unfounded; for in his numerous subsequent Knights of Calatrava, was occupied by a productions he has given ample proofs of a Spanish officer of distinguished rank and fecundity and liveliness of imagination une-noble birth. The Comendador, Don San. qualled by any of the modern Spanish authors. In 1820 he published his Arte Poetica, which by the voluminous notes he added to it may be called a critical work upon Spanish literature, rather than a mere treatise on versification, as its title would seem to imply. During his exile from 1823 to

cho Jimenez de Solis, for such was his name, had seen in his younger days much of active warfare; and his eminent services had gained the notice of his sovereign, who to reward his merit bestowed on him the government of that important fortress. During the long and desultory struggle which preceded

the conquest of Granada, the town of Martos | ine are very minutely enumerated, and that and its territory had often been converted the author has forgotten none of the accominto a field of battle for the two contending plishments, personal and mental, which make powers. Its situation at the entrance of the woman an object of love and admiration. kingdom of Jaen, and on the frontiers of the We shall therefore spare our readers the Moorish dominion, made it the scene of fre- description, and proceed to sketch the other quent skirmishes, and many a gallant feat of characters of the tale. arms had been performed under its walls. The Comendador seeks among his Another circumstance, unrecorded by the friends a suitable husband for his daughter, Spanish author, contributed to the celebrity of and having fixed upon Pedro de Venegas, a the fortress of Martos and of the rock on descendant of the illustrious family of Luque, which it is situated. During the reign of communicates his intention to Isabel, and Ferdinand IV., an exceedingly weak mo- appoints the day for the ceremony. Don narch whose whole life was spent in con- Pedro Venegas, followed by a numerous tinual warfare with his revolted barons, an band of his own retainers, and accompanied expedition was undertaken against the by Don Alonso de Cordova, his uncle, and Moors. The king with his army on his way by the Señor de Zuheros, arrives soon afterto the Mussulman frontiers stopped at Mar- wards at Martos; the three cavaliers with tos; when Peter and John de Carvajal, two their attendants are lodged within the castle. brothers, of the nobility of the place, were accused of having in a former skirmish with arrived, and a silent calm succeeded to the "The night fixed for the espousals at length the king's troops put to death one of his par- noise and bustle of the day, not unlike the tisans. Ferdinand, anxious only to revenge tranquillity of the ocean after a storm. The the injury done to his authority, and without followers of the different guests, and the metaking the trouble of inquiring into the cir- nials of the castle, overcome with sleep and cumstance or submitting the case to be tried wine, lay dispersed about the courts and by a court of justice, ordered the brothers to corridors. A few only of the principal houseappear before him; and, in spite of their hold servants, and the ladies and knights solemn protestations of innocence, sent them the door of the chapel in anxious expectawho were to witness the ceremony, stood at to be precipitated from a high rock on which tion of the signal. A low murmur anounced the town is built, commanding the plain, and at last the arrival of the bride and brideoverlooking a deep ravine. If any faith can groom with their friends, and immediately be placed in the ancient chronicles, the two afterwards a dozen pages, with a torch of brothers were guiltless of the crime imputed wax in one hand, and the cup in the other to them; and on the point of meeting death, were seen approaching the chapel with due seeing no hope of justice or mercy at Fer- lowed by Isabel and Don Pedro, who deeply solemnity and composure. They were foldinand's hands, they are said to have cited absorbed in their own thoughts, walked in, sihim to appear with them before the judg-lence, scarcely daring to raise their eyes from ment-seat of God within thirty days. To the ground. Not so the Comendador, who, this fatal summons Ferdinand's premature with Don Alonso de Cordova and the and sudden decease, which is said to have Senor de Zuheros, walked with head erect taken place within the fixed limit, is seriously and cheerful countenauce; the cortege beattributed by Mariana and other sober histo-ing closed by Isabel's hand-maidens, wrapt rians; and posterity has designated him by who had, by dint of entreaty, obtained this up in mantels, and by a few favoured esquires the name of Fernando el Emplazado (Fer- signal distinction. dinand the Summoned); the rock from whence the Carvajals were precipitated being also known in the romances by the name of La Peña, or the rock, of Martos.

"The chapel of the castle was small and dark, and had only one nave; the ceiling was of carved walnut, the altar adorned with wooden images, placed in gilt niches. But The Comendador had a daughter called the antiquity of the retreat, and its rude orIsabel, on whom he doated, and who was his naments, raised the soul above worldly contemplation and inspired sweet and melanchoonly child. When young she had been mi ly reveries. The idea that there, under the raculously preserved from death by a Moor- marble flags with which the chapel was paved ish female slave of Arlaja, who, by means many of the ancestors of the Comendador of some herbs and plants unknown to any slept in peace, their ashes mingled with the one but herself, had cured her of a consump-earth redeemed by them from the Moors tive disease, that baffled all the efforts of the and their bodies lying under the altars leeches and empirics of the time. Grateful for the cure, Isabel conceived for Arlaja an unbounded attachment and devotion destined to influence her future life. It may be supposed that the personal charms of the hero.

which they had in life defended, contributed not a little to impress the mind with religious feelings. In the centre of the chapel, a foot above ground, arose a sepulchre, on which was coarsely carved the figure of a young woman with the hands crossed over

the breast, the feet joined, and the face look-end of a day begun under such happy auing up to heaven. It was that of the mother of spices! Who will put faith in earthly joy, Isabel; and the Comendador felt a degree which so quickly flies before us!"-pp. 35 38. of consolation mixed with sorrow in the Isabel was made captive, and before the thought that his sainted wife might witness and day dawned the Moors disappeared from the bless their daughter's union from her tomb. The bride was already at the foot of the castle, carrying their prize with them. altar, pale and tremulous; the bridegroom by her side breathless and agitated; the minister of heaven was pronouncing the sacred words, and on the point of receiving the fatal yes which was to unite them until death when suddenly an appalling shriek struck every one with horror. The Comendador aud his friends at first thought it might be a scuffle among the people of the castle; but immediately after, the cry of firej! and the approach of a confused multitude; the clatter of arms, the precipitate step of fugitives, the groans of the wounded and dying, too plainly told the fatal truth.

It seems to have been the author's intention to adhere as strictly as possible to histo. rical truth; and, as if in scorn of writing a mere work of fiction, to give the volume a more serious and imposing appearance by It is only from this consideration that we means of copious notes and illustrations. can pardon Martinez de la Rosa for the very long, and at times very tedious and ill chosen details with which his work abounds; and which, far from imparting any additional interest to his novel, serve only to divert the reader's attention and show the immense and unnecessary pains taken to couple hispanic-struck; the Comendador rushed out tory with romance. Who, in fact, can place like lightning to inquire into the cause of the any confidence in accounts borrowed from alarm, but was himself met at the door of the Bleda, Pedraza, Hita, and Father Echavarchapel by the crowd of fugitives, who ria? Such, however, being the author's thronged to it for refuge. In vain did he de- especial object, it is incumbent upon us to mand to be heard; in vain he repeated ques- give an insight of the state and resources of tion after question: no answer could be ob- the two powers that contended for the pos

session of the Peninsula.idazoled

The kingdom of Granada, the last which the Moors possessed in Spain, was then on the verge of ruin; weakened by dissension and civil war, the power of the Moorish monarchs had long begun to decline. In 859 of the Hijra, (A. D. 1455,) Mohammad, force, and aided by John II. of Castile, had son of Ismael, at the head of a considerable

many wolves into a sheep-fold. The Com- troops everywhere defeated, the reign of endador, immovable as a satute sword in Mohammad Ibn Ismael, which lasted twelve hand awaited their attack; and though years, was comparatively tranquil. A treaty pierced with a hundred wounds, stood for of peace was signed, by which Ibn Ismael some time fixed as a rock, and then staggered submitted to hold his kingdom as a fief of the and fell, trailing himself towards the tomb of crown of Castile; to appear in person or by his wife, where he breathed his last. Before substitute whenever the Cortes should be the altar, the youthful Venegas was seen convoked by the king, and to pay an annual sustaining Isabel, and protecting her with his own body from the blows of the assailants. Scarcely was the young cavalier sensible of what passed around him; he had After the death of Mohammad Ibn Ismael, neither arms for defence, nor hope of succour which happened in 1466-67, his eldest son, from human power; regardless of his own Muley Ali Abu-l-Hasan (improperly called life, his heart was agonised for the fate of his by the Spanish writers, and by M. de la Robeloved! Surrender or die!' exclaimed sa, Alboacen) succeeded to the throne. The the chief of the invading party, rushing forward to separate them; Venegas at that unhappy events which attended the last years instant received a wound in the forehead, of the reign of Henry IV., the disturbances embraced once more his bride, and fell excited by his brother Alphonso and which bathed in blood at her feet. Such was the terminated unsuccessfully with the battle of