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ceased to be spoken in its southern provinces; and so early as the eighth, the lingua Romana rustica had acquired a distinct and substantive character, whose birth preceded that of the Italian by at least 350 years. In a council held at Trent,* in 813, the bishops were ordered to have certain homilies of the Fathers translated into the rustic Roman. The origin of the Provençal language may be dated, therefore, from a much earlier period than the reign of Bozon at Arles, which is the period assigned to it by M. Sismondi.

We fully concur in the philosophical view which the Genevese Professor has taken of those singular phenomena attending the Provençal language,-its sudden rise and its equally sudden extinction.

• When in the tenth century,' says M. Sismondi,' the nations of the south of Europe attempted to give a consistency to the rude dialects which had been produced by the mixture of the Latin with the northern tongues, one of the new languages appeared to prevail over the others. Sooner formed, more generally spread, and more rapidly cultivated than its rivals, it seemed to assume the place of the forsaken Latin. Thousands of poets flourished, almost contemporaneously, in this new language, who gave it a character of originality which owes nothing to the Greeks or the Romans, or to what is called classical literature. They spread their reputation from the extremity of Spain to that of Italy; and they have served as models to all the poets who afterwards succeeded them in other languages, even to those of the North, and, amongst these, to the English and the Ger

All at once, however, this ephemeral reputation vanished. The voice of the Troubadours was silent; the Provençal was abandoned, and, undergoing new changes, again became a mere dialect, till, after a brilliant existence of three centuries, its productions were ranked amongst those of the dead languages. From this period, it received no additions.

• The high reputation of the Provençal poets, and the rapid decline of their language, are two phenomena equally striking in the history of the cultivation of the human mind. That literature, which has given models to other nations, yet, amongst its crowd of agreeable poems, has not produced a single masterpiece, a single work of genius destined to immortality, is the more worthy of our attention, as it is entirely the offspring of the age, and not of individuals. It reveals to us the sentiments, the imagination, and the spirit of the modern nations, in their infancy. It exhibits what was common to all and pervaded all, and not what genius, superior to the age, enabled a single individual to accomplish. Thus the return of the beautiful days of spring is announced to us, not by some single wonder of the gardens, in the production of which the artificial exertions of man have

• Hallam's Middle Ages. Vol. III.

seconded the efforts of nature, but by the brilliant flowers of the fields, and by the prodigality of the meadows.'

The rise, progress, and decline of Provençal poetry, are discussed at great length by M. Sismondi. But the poetry of the Provençals was not coeval with their language. The capture of Toledo, in 1083, by Alonzo VI. of Castile, and the succession of Raymond Berenger to the county of Provence, fifty years later, have been respectively assigned as the periods of its birth. M. Sismondi evidently dates it from the latter of these events; but each, in its turn, must have considerably influenced it. Toledo, when it was conquered, was one of the most celebrated seats of Arabian literature. No persecution was let loose upon those who professed the Mussulman faith. The former inhabitants were encouraged to remain ; their religion was protected, and their schools and colleges were preserved with all their endowments and privileges : a beneficent and wise policy, and worthy of the imitation of more enlightened ages ! The character of the conquered people was essentially poetical. At the same time, a very large proportion of those who followed the fortunes of the Castilian king, were adventurers from the south of France. In all probability, therefore, the first poeti, cal efforts of the Provenceaux are referrible to this period. But the accession of Raymond Berenger to the throne of Pro, vence, gave a new direction to the national spirit, by the mix, ture of the Catalans with the Provençals. Their language was nearly the same, and was called by the natives, from the name of a French province, Llemosi, or Limousin. The Catalans had, indeed, long before derived considerable cultivation from their commercial intercourse with Eastern nations; and thus the court of Barcelona imbibed the spirit of chivalry and free dom, and acquired a strong relish for the luxury, refinement, and elegance of the Arabians. The migration, then, of so splendid a court to Provence, introduced into that country its tastes, pursuits, and studies, and gave birth to the poetical spirit which, to use M. Sismondi's words, shone over Provence and all the south of Europe, like a sudden electric flash through palpable darkness.

• At the same time with the Provençal poetry, chivalry had its rise. It was, in a manner, the soul of the new literature; and the character which is thus given to the latter, so different from any thing in antiquity, and so rich in poetical invention, is one of the most important matters of observation in the history of modern literature. We must not confound chivalry with the feudal system. The feudal system may

be called the real life of the period of which we are treating, possessing its advantages and inconveniences, its virtues and its vices. Chivalry, on the contrary, is the ideal world, such as it ex. isted in the imaginations of the Romance writers. Its essential cha. racter is devotion to woman and to honour. But the poetical notions which then prevailed, as to the virtues which constituted the perfection of knights and ladies, were not entirely the fictions of the brain. They existed amongst the people, though perhaps without being carried into action; and when at last they acquired greater stability by the heroic songs in which they were inculcated, they began to assert a more practical influence over the people who had given them birth, and the realities of the feudal system became identified with the fictions of chivalry.'

• Frankness and loyalty, which are essentially chivalric virtues, are in general the consequences of strength and courage; but, in order to render their practice general, it is necessary that some chastise ment or disgrace should attend their violation. But, in the midst of their castles, the lords were devoid of all fear, and public opinion had no influence over men to whom social life was unknown. The middle ages, consequently, display more examples of scandalous treachery, than any other period. Love, it is true, had assumed a new character, which preserved the same shape under the operation of the realities of the feudal system and of the romantic fictions of chivalry. It was not more tender and passionate than amongst the Greeks and the Romans, but it was more respectful, and something of mystery was mingled with its sentiment. Some remains of the same religious veneration continued to be felt for women, which the Germans evinced towards their prophetesses. They were considered rather as angelic beings than as dependants and inferiors. The task of serving and protecting them was considered honourable, as though they were the representatives of the divinity upon earth; and to this worship, an ardour of feeling and a turbulence of passion and desire were superadded, little known to the Germans, but peculiar to the people of the South, and the expression of which was borrowed from the Arabians. Amongst the chivalrous, love always preserved this pure and religious character. But, where the feudal system extended its inAuence, the most extreme disorder prevailed, and, in the literature of that time, we find more scandalous instances, than at any other period, of the corruption of manners. Neither the sirventes, nor the canzos of the Troubadours, nor the fabliaux of the Trouvères, nor the romances of chivalry, can be read without a blush. The licentious grossness of the language is equalled, in every page, by the shameful depravity of the characters, and by the immorality of the incidents. In the south of France, more particularly, peace, riches, and a court life, had introduced, amongst the nobility, an extreme laxity of manners. Gallantry seems to have been the sole object of their existence. The ladies, who only appeared in society after marriage, were proud of the celebrity which their lovers conferred on their charms. They were delighted with becoming the objects of the songs of their Troubadour ; nor were they offended, at the poems composed in their praise, in which gallantry was often mingled with

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Sismondi on the Literature of Italy. seconded the efforts of nature, but by the brilliant flowers of the fields, and by the prodigality of the meadows."

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The rise, progress, and decline of Provençal poetry, are discussed at great length by M. Sismondi. But the poetry of the sion of Raymond Berenger to the county of Provence, fifty of Toledo, in 1083, by Alonzo VI. of Castile, and the succesProvençals was not coeval with their language. The capture its birth. M. Sismondi evidently dates it from the latter of these events; but each, in its turn, must have considerably in

isted in the imaginations of the Romance writers. Its essential character is devotion to woman and to honour. But the poetical notions which then prevailed, as to the virtues which constituted the perfection of knights and ladies, were not entirely the fictions of the brain. They existed amongst the people, though perhaps without being carried into action; and when at last they acquired greater stability by the heroic songs in which they were inculcated, they began to assert a more practical influence over the people who had given them birth, and the realities of the feudal system became identified with the fictions of chivalry.'

Frankness and loyalty, which are essentially chivalric virtues, are in general the consequences of strength and courage; but, in order to render their practice general, it is necessary that some chastisement or disgrace should attend their violation. But, in the midst of their castles, the lords were devoid of all fear, and public opinion had no influence over men to whom social life was unknown. The middle ages, consequently, display more examples of scandalous treachery, than any other period. Love, it is true, had assumed a new character, which preserved the same shape under the operation of the realities of the feudal system and of the romantic fictions of chivalry. It was not more tender and passionate than amongst the Greeks and the Romans, but it was more respectful, and something of mystery was mingled with its sentiment. Some remains of the same religious veneration continued to be felt for women, which the Germans evinced towards their prophetesses. They were considered rather as angelic beings than as dependants and inferiors. The task of serving and protecting them was considered honourable, as though they were the representatives of the divinity upon earth; and to this worship, an ardour of feeling and a turbulence of passion and desire were superadded, little known to the Germans, but peculiar to the people of the South, and the expression of which was borrowed from the Arabians. Amongst the chivalrous, love always preserved this pure and religious character. But, where the feudal system extended its influence, the most extreme disorder prevailed, and, in the literature of that time, we find more scandalous instances, than at any other period, of the corruption of manners. Neither the sirventes, nor the canzos of the Troubadours, nor the fabliaux of the Trouvères, nor the romances of chivalry, can be read without a blush. The licen tious grossness of the language is equalled, in every page, by the shameful depravity of the characters, and by the immorality of the incidents. In the south of France, more particularly, peace, riches, and a court life, had introduced, amongst the nobility, an extreme laxity of manners. Gallantry seems to have been the sole object of their existence. The ladies, who only appeared in society after marriage, were proud of the celebrity which their lovers conferred on their charms. They were delighted with becoming the objects of the songs of their Troubadour; nor were they offended, at the poems composed in their praise, in which gallantry was often mingled with