We are no advocates for the universal teaching of Greek to English boys. At least a moiety of those who are painfully dragged up this ancient Parnassus would be better employed in learning French and German. Not every boy can or needs to go to Corinth. But for the few who are capable of education, compact and complete in all its departments, Greek we hold to be an indispensable discipline. Our space forbids us to enter upon the aesthetic grounds for this assertion. One motive for the study of it is, therefore, all that we can afford to pressnamely, that no other study, not even that of mathematics themselves, demands more accuracy, more attention or more constant reference to severe laws of thought. And, inasmuch as these properties of the mind are the roof and crown, the goal and the prize, of more than Pythagorean periods of probation, they are also among the most rare of acquisitions. Without them no one has ever scaled the steep ascent of Greek learning, and consequently, they who, like Bentley and Porson, stand on its very summit are the rightful owners and heirs of whatsoever fame is accorded to them.

We must ask our readers to take for granted what we have not space to prove by example, that Porson attained, in a measure beyond his contemporaries, the vision and faculty 'divine' of comprehending the very soul and substance of the Greek language. Bentley possessed in an equal degree the power of deciphering manuscripts and detecting the errors of copyists and editors. But the far wider round and compass of his reading caused him to pay less particular attention to the laws of Greek metre, and this, accordingly, came nearly a virgin province into Porson's hands. How complete a discovery was his Metrical Canons,' contained in his Preface and Supplement to the four plays edited by him, may be seen by any one who will take the trouble to compare Hermann's first edition of the 'Elementa Doctrinæ Metricæ,' with the later one of that work; or the text of any edition of Euripides' earlier than Porson's first Hecuba.' To compare great things with less, the light thrown upon the order and operations of the solar system by Copernicus and Newton, was not more intense than the light thrown upon the three principal measures of the Greek dramatic poets by Porson. Next in order, though not in merit, is the precision with which he detects the wrong and supplies the right reading, the word that alone responds to the need of the passage in order to convert doubt into certainty, what was obscure into what is clear, what was weak into what is strong.

·

The powers which he acquired he has transmitted. We have frequently cause to regret that England is surpassed by Germany

in its contributions to the study of ancient history and literature; that our divines and civil lawyers have been, comparatively with such writers as Schleiermacher, Ewald, and Savigny, inert and unproductive in their respective fields. But when we compare the compositions that under the title of Porson Prize Exercises annually vouch for the Greek scholarship of Cambridge, or the Latin compositions of English scholars, with similar exhibitions of German ones, the interval between them is nearly as wide as the space between a school-boy's exercise and a first-rate Prælectio Academica. German Latin is often as barbarous as the Greek of the Triballian god in the comedy of the Birds; while German Greek is, if possible, often more Triballian than even German Latin. In the hands of Porson and his school we feel the presence of a vital power informing the language; in those of two thirds of German commentators we feel as Virgil might be imagined to feel on reading Cowley's 'Davideis,' or Cicero on hearing a chapter or two from the Vulgate. Porson's epigram on Hermann, indeed, has not quite lost its savour, so far as regards the modern-antique compositions of German Academes.'

Porson's works bear unfortunately no proportion to his genius and learning. Though capable of intense application, though gifted with a prodigious memory, and though constantly urged to explain and correct one or more of the cardinal poets or philosophers of Greece, his habits were averse to regular study, and he lavished in spouting' to unworthy and unappreciating hearers, often the watchman of the night or the waiter at the tavern, treasures that were meant for mankind.

We conclude with the fine saying of Addison, applied by De Quincey to another mind equally gifted and equally prodigal of its gifts, that Babylon in ruins is not so affecting a spectacle, ' or so solemn, as a human mind overthrown by lunacy. How 'much more awful, then,' he adds, when a mind so regal is 'overthrown or threatened with overthrow, not by a visitation ' of Providence, but by the treachery of its own will, and by 'the conspiracy, as it were, of himself against himself!'

ART. VI. Die Gräfin von Albany. Von ALFRED VON REUMONT. Two Volumes. Berlin: 1860.

SOME

OME forty years since, the sister of an Irish peeress astonished a party of English at Florence, by announcing that she had been to see the house in which Ariosto lived with the Countess of Albany, widow of Charles the First. She meant the house in which Alfieri lived with the Countess after the death of her husband, Charles Edward, popularly known as the Pretender.* It is to be feared that the name of the Countess of Albany, although it may not again mislead to this extent, will recall few clear or definite impressions to the mass of the reading public. Yet that name is imperishably blended with the royalty of race and the prouder royalty of genius, with the expiring glories of an illustrious house, and with the rising glories of an author, who, thanks to Ristori, has at length obtained, in European estimation, the place which the most discriminating of his countrymen were prepared from the first to claim for him.

In allusion to the monument in Santa Croce and the many spots in Florence associated with their history, M. de Reumont exclaims: Thus in the capital of Tuscany are united the 'names and memories of a descendant of the most unfortunate 'kingly line of modern times, of a German princess, and an 'Italian poet.' It will not be this accomplished writer's fault if their union ever again fails to attract attention. The object of his book is to make the German princess not only the connecting link between the exiled prince and the poet, but the central figure of a group, or rather of several successive groups, of learned and accomplished persons more or less known to fame. These in turn serve as an apology for introducing sketches of Italian society at different epochs, interspersed with remarks on manners and criticisms on art. M. de Reumont was many years Prussian Minister at Florence; he is the author of a valuable work, in six volumes, entitled Contri- . 'butions to Italian History;' he is full to overflowing of anti

*This story is rather diffusely told in The Idler in Italy' (vol. ii. p. 146.), by the Countess of Blessington, who, in the very act of triumphing over her countrywoman, falls into the not less palpable mistake of calling the Countess the widow of James Stuart, the Chevalier St. George.

VOL. CXIV. NO. CCXXXI.

L

quarian, artistic, and architectural lore; and he pours out his stores, whenever he can find or simulate an opportunity, without mercy or restraint. This is the most exhaustive and also the most conscientiously written book we ever remember to have read. Indeed, its excessive conscientiousness is its fault. There is no denying that, if we wish to convey a complete image and perfectly just estimate of a man and woman, everything that contributes directly or indirectly to the formation of their characters falls strictly within the province of the biographer. But a line of demarcation must be drawn somewhere. In the speech assigned to David Hartley in Anticipation,' he is made to argue that the right of Great Britain to tax a colony depends upon the constitution of colonies in general; that colonies cannot be considered without reference to mother countries, nor mother countries without reference to the partition and population of the world. By an analogous train of reasoning, M. de Reumont insists on tracing the influence perceptibly or imperceptibly exercised on Charles Edward by his paternal and maternal connections in the ascending line to the third or fourth degree, as well as by his father, mother, brother, and mistress, singly or conjointly; and the result is that we are not introduced to the lady whose name exclusively occupies the title-page, till we arrive at the third chapter and 133rd page of the book.

*

Foreign readers, however, who are less conversant with the errors and misfortunes of the Stuarts, may not be sorry to learn more of the last of them; and it must be admitted that the illustrative traits and incidents brought together by the author are extremely well chosen and well adapted to his purpose. But we could not find room for many of them without excluding newer matter; and we pass at once to the marriage of the Chevalier St. George in 1718 with Marie Clementine Sobieski, the granddaughter of the heroic King of Poland. Amongst the valuables which formed part of her dowry, were the rubies of the Polish crown, now in the treasury of St. Peter's; the golden shield, presented by the Emperor Leopold

*The most interesting and curious of the anecdotes relating to the Stuarts in Italy are taken from 'The Decline of the Last Stuarts. 'Extracts from the Despatches of British Envoys to the Secretary ' of State. Printed for the Roxburghe Club by Lord Mahon. 'London: 1843.' M. de Reumont's work is appropriately dedicated to Anna Cæcilia, Countess of Bernstorff, the German woman who in the society of England represents her native country with grace, tact, and kindliness; who, in a similar position in Italy, has left a 'willingly cherished remembrance.'

to the deliverer of Vienna; and the cover, of gold brocade adorned with verses of the Koran in turquoise, in which the standard of the Prophet was kept during the siege.

The theory that men of mark are commonly more indebted to their mothers than their fathers, has been illustrated by long lists of instances; and it is a fair subject of speculation whether the transient dashes of heroism exhibited by Charles are to be set down to the credit of the Sobieski blood, or were any way owing to maternal training or encouragement. Pollnitz, indeed, says that Marie Clementine was a princess who deserved to be a queen. Without possessing the lustre of a great beauty, she unites endless attractions in her person. She is obliging, compassionate, beneficent; her piety is deep seated, and she leads in truth the life of a saint.' This was more than could be said for her husband, whose undisguised attentions to the Duchess of Inverness at length produced an open rupture, which was made up with difficulty through the intervention of Alberoni, after causing great scandal.

Charles Edward was born at Rome on the 31st December, 1720. Seven cardinals were present at his birth, and the Pope, Clement XI., caused a Te Deum to be sung. As he grew up, he gave decided signs of future eminence. From early childhood he was imbued with the loftiest and most aspiring notions, and his training was adapted to his assumed prospects. Very little is popularly known of him either before or after his exploits and adventures in 1745; and M. de Reumont has been at considerable pains to bring together the leading indications of his character at each of the comparatively unknown or obscure periods. His personal advantages in youth were undeniable. He was fair, like his mother, and unlike his father, who was dark. He was fond of active exercise, and devoted to field sports. He was a good rider and a good shot. But his body was not improved and strengthened at the expense of his mind, for he spoke Latin, Italian, French, and English, and was well versed in ancient and modern history. He was the observed of all observers at more than one splendid entertainment given at Rome in honour of his family; and when he entered a ball-room, the same fluttering anxiety to secure a royal partner was visible amongst the Roman beauties as was betrayed by the American maidens during the Prince of Wales' progress through the (then) United States. But he was in no danger of degenerating into a mere carpet-knight. When he was only fourteen years old he served in the short and dashing campaign which ended (1735) in placing a Spanish Bourbon on the throne of Naples. He was on board one of the Spanish vessels