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the sure harbinger of greatness; but it formed, from the very beginning of the Mahometan sway, the lurking element of its destruction. Satisfied with the possession of that high and more than Stoical disdain of others, the disciples of the Prophet have remained stationary as he found them; nay, some which were once among the noblest of nations, have sunk gradually into the condition of dull and sluggish Barbarians.

The temptation to which, according to the Gospel, our Saviour was exposed by the fallen angel, was too much for Mahomet. He was willing to purchase the kingdoms of the earth at the expense of his integrity. Had he withstood this temptation, and had the noble-minded Arabs become Christians with the same zeal which attended their reception of Mahometanism, the most beautiful lands of the earth would then long ago, in all probability, have been also the most refined and the most happy-Asia and Europe, instead of regarding each other with the fury of combatants, or the coldness of strangers, instead of filling the world with blood and rancour, had long ago been united in the bonds of brotherhood. The proud spirit of the False Prophet, and the union of spiritual and temporal power in his empire, paved the way for the most cruel of all despotisms; one under which every vestige not only of exterual freedom, but even of the last resource of men-the liberty of the mind -has been utterly eradicated and erased.

An acquaintance with the nature and consequences of a faith so different from their own, was calculated to produce, upon the thinking men of Europe, a much more striking effect than a few inaccurate translations from Aristotle. That infidelity and contempt of religion of which the emperor Frederick II. has been accused, may easily be accounted for by the circumstances of the times. With those scraps of chemical, medical, and astronomical science, which the Europeans received from the Arabs, they received also much that was fitted to encourage them in all the superstitions of astrology, alchemy, and magic. The arcana, the hidden doctrines of the nights Templars, furnish another proof that a great fermentation had begun to operate in the European

mind. The effects of all this were first, and most distinctly, made manifest in the department of philosophy. Early in the 12th century, scarcely a hundred years after the first Crusades, the first of modern attempts to destroy the system of Christianity, and all the constitutions of Church and State to which it has given rise, was made by Arnold of Brescia. The fate of this man has been such as that which has fallen to the share of all ill-timed and unfortunate revolutionizers. Yet purity of intention should not be denied to him; nor should it be forgotten that, of all the enemies of the Church, few have grounded their hostility on views of philosophy so deep, and at the same time so noble, as his. He was succeeded by a host of others, who, without so openly declaring their purpose, occupied themselves in disseminating dangerous and destructive doctrines in regard to matters of religion. The first who opposed himself to the stream of infidelity, with the vigour of a Christian philosopher, was a German. Albertus Magnus was one of those preeminent spirits which the world so rarely produces-one of those who imbody the power, the learning, and the wisdom of ages. He was the Aristotle of his time.-We should err very widely in refusing to philosophy a place in the history of the world. Even among the Greeks and Romans, where philosophy and common life were so much at variance, its influence was great. Nay, it is in that very feud and opposition between speculative intellect, on the one hand, and the state and the popular belief on the other, that we must seek for the true ground of the destruction of all the Ancient States. In modern history, from the time of the middle ages downwards, philosophy-extended so widely as to become almost the synonym of common opinion-has even more manifested her power. Separated although she be, from the world, the world must always regard her either as its best friend, or as its worst enemy.

Like every other great revolution, that introduced by the Crusades had the effect of destroying many of the old bands of society. It opened the the way for freedom; but, wherever occasion was offered, it opened the way for anarchy also. The tremendous conflict between the Church and the Empire which devastated Italy and

Germany during the thirteenth century, particularly towards the close, arose naturally from the relation which these powers held to each other; but though it was not caused, its operations were much facilitated and accelerated by means of the Crusades. The long absence of the last of the great and powerful emperors, Frederick II., from Germany, laid the foundation for confusion and anarchy in that country. This anarchy was at its summit of violence, when, after the house of Hohenstaufen, for a hundred years the most powerful in Europe, had expired on the scaffold of its last representative-amidst a succession of doubtful, powerless, and absurd elections, Germany and Europe could scarcely be aware whether they had or had not an emperor. It was now that the verse of an older poet, on occasion of the death of an emperor, could be employed almost without hyperbole.

"Tristis et Europa, Decapitata gemit."

If we may compare the great powers of the earth with the great luminaries of nature, we may say, that at this time the heaven was for ever dark, and that neither emperor nor pope, neither the sun nor the moon, emitted any of these rays which used to guide, and cheer, and animate, the world. The only power which remained entire, was that of chivalry. A simple knight drew to himself the eyes of the world. Great in fortune and in valour, great in the possession of every noble and every warlike virtue,-but blessed with an understanding at once strong and comprehensive, Rudolph of Habsburg derived his truest greatness from his rectitude.

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poet, whose very existence has been detected only by keen research, may indeed have evinced but a slender portion of that spirit which has buoyed up the writings of distinguished contemporaries during the course of centuries; yet still his verses shall, in the lapse of time, acquire an interest which they did not possess in the eyes of his own generation."

This remark (which, though not new in itself, has derived great additional value from the beautiful illustrations which Mr Scott has brought together in the preface alluded to) has by no means been verified or supported by the conduct of modern bibliographers towards the thirteen folio volumes of the Duchess of Newcastle. Pope, in the "Dunciad," by giving a conspicuous place in the library of his hero to her productions, "Where stamp'd with arms, Newcastle shone complete,"

was among the first to set the example of turning her Grace into ridicule. But this was excusable on his part, for neither Pope, nor any one else in those days, was a bibliographer, in the modern acceptation of the term. Even "Caxtons and "Wynkyn de Wordes," were perhaps then sold for snuff-paper. Nor could her Grace's productions, at that time, have their present attractions of rarity as a recommendation, though there were several of them that her biographer, George Ballard, about the same period, had never seen.

manner, for the sake of exciting a Lord Orford afterwards, in his usual smile on the vacant countenances of some of his own noble readers, epitomized the lives of the Duke and Duchess in such manner as to render them utterly ridiculous. The only modern authors after Ballard, that have said a few words in favour of her Grace (at least we do not at this moment recollect any others), are Sir Egerton Brydges, Mr Parke (in his new edition of Lord Orford), and Mr D'Israeli.

It is odd enough, however, that, with the exception of Sir E. Brydges, all her commentators seem to have paid much more attention to her Grace's prose than to her poetical writings; whereas her volumes, entitled, "Nature's pictures, drawn by Phancies pencil to the life," printed 1656,

and "Poems and Phancies," 1662,* are not only among the most rare, but in all probability the most curious of her published compositions; and it may therefore be wondered at, that a reprint of some of these volumes has not yet appeared. Of her earliest work, the World's Olio," we are not told by Mr Parke or Lord Orford any thing whatever but the name, not even whether it is in verse or in prose. In Longman and Company's Catalogue for 1817, occurs a fine copy of the "Poems and Phancies," with a collection of rare prints of the authoress and her husband. This would probably have supplied a good article for the "Censura" or Bibliographer;" but it is to be feared that such volumes do not excite so much interest now, as in the "year of the Roxburghe auction."

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It should be observed, however, that in addition to a reprint of" Selected Poems" by the Duchess (twenty-five copies only), from the press of Lee Priory, the same editor (Sir E. Brydges) has also reprinted "Autobiography of Margaret Cavendish," probably the most interesting of all her Grace's prose compositions, but of which we believe no copies have ever reached our Northern capital.

Of the thirteen obscure folios of our authoress, a few are of comparatively frequent occurrence.

These are,

"For my part," she observes, "I love to sit at home and write, or walk in my chamber and contemplate. But I hold it necessary sometimes to come abroad, because I find that several objects do bring new materials for my thoughts and fancies to build upon. Yet I must say this in behalf of my thoughts, that I never found them idle; for if the senses bring no work in, they will work of themselves, like the silkworms that spin out of their own bowels." In another place she observes,

"I am lazy and inactive to any other employments, and had rather sit still and do nothing, than have my thoughts obstructed or disturbed, from their usual contemplations, with noise or company, or any other action or employment but writing; for writing is as pencilling thoughts; and I take as much delight as painters who draw men and other creatures."-Plays, 1662, p. 681.

It is well known to literary men, that such a fondness for scribbling is an acquired rather than a natural taste. It is an accomplishment, however, that in some cases proves of infinite importance, and which Rousseau found it almost impossible to obtain. After all, he has affirmed that his thoughts and his pen never could be brought to flow well together. Had Rousseau possessed the Duchess's rapidity of fingers, and the latter his aversion to a writing desk, the philosopher might have learned his reputation more easily, and the lady would have escaped that ridicule which has hitherto attended her.

The Duke of Newcastle seems to have been one of those who applauded his noble consort's prose works more than her poetry, and thus perhaps misled her from the paths for which her genius was most adapted.

1. The Life of the Duke, 1667. 2. Philosophical Opinions, 1663. 3. Sociable Letters, 1664. 4. Miscellaneous Plays, 1662. Of these four, beyond a doubt, the plays are the most valuable; and, by a little sacrifice of time and attention, might be made to afford some curious selected extracts. The "Philosophy"" has no other merit, but that, like all her other books, it arose from the unassisted operations of her own brain; having the attribute of dulness and inconclusiveness in common with many other metaphysical works, without their learning or authority.

Our neglected heroine, however destitute of taste and judgment, certainly cannot be denied the praise of industry and application, and was by no means deficient in the creative faculty of imagination.

Of the "Poems" we judge by short specimens merely, having only five of her Grace's folios on our table at present.

"This lady's philosophy," he observes, is excellent, and will be thought so hereafter. As to the book of her philosophical opinions, if you will lay bye a little passion against writers, you will like it, and the best of any thing she hath writ; therefore read it once or twice, not with malice to find a

little fault, but with judgment to like what is good."-Vide Parke's Roy. and Noble Authors, III. 188.

Indeed, one half at least of the noble authoress's faults and follies may perhaps be ascribed to the injudicious criticisms of her husband, who, notwithstanding all that has been said in his favour by some historians, certainly was no conjurer. But the most favourable point of view in which her Grace's literary labours have hitherto

been placed, is that which has been taken by Sir Egerton Brydges.

"She was," he observes, the faithful and endearing companion of all that virtuous nobleman's (the Duke's) subsequent trouble and exiles; which she contributed to soothe by joining in his literary pursuits, and to gild by the numerous productions of her own fertile fancy. It is clear, from her prefaces, that the major part of her multiplied works was composed during this gloomy period of sorrow, privation, and danger."

This is a remark which had apparently escaped Ballard, who seems to think that her Grace composed most of her works after the restoration of King Charles, and the return of the loyal exiles to England. The contrary, however, is proved by the commencement of her postscript to the " "Plays," 1662, page 181.

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ty, even in accoutrements of dress," says the Duchess. And accordingly, when she became a poetess and philosopher, she resolved to proceed with an utter disregard of every one who had preceded her on the same ground. To learn other languages, or even her own grammatically-to brood over the pages of Shakspeare and Spenser, of Bacon and Hooker-were the very last duties that, in her literary capacity, she deemed it requisite to fulfil. She seems almost to have closed her eyes on the beauties of the visible universe; and it scarcely appears even that she studied her Bible; and yet continued indefatigably to contemplate and to write!

"If we had but that command over ourselves," she has said (speaking of the female sex, and doubtless judging of them all by her own experience) if we had but that command over ourselves to keep silence, we might perhaps be thought wits, though we were fools; but to keep silence it is impossi ble for us to do. So long as we have speech we shall talk, although to no purpose; for nothing but death can force us to silence, for we often talk in our sleep."

And in another place

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"I imagine all those who have redd my former books will say that I have writ enough, unless they were better. But, say what you will, it pleaseth me; and since my delights are harmless, I will satisfy my humour.

For, had my braine as many fancies in't
To fill the world, I'd put them all in print.
No matter whether they be well expresst;
My will is done-that pleases woman best."

In the strange collection of prefatory addresses to the miscellaneous plays already referred to, are many remarkable evidences of this turn of mind.

But, above all, we are disposed to think that the voluminous works of our authoress will now be looked upon with most satisfaction (or patience) by that reader who regards them (in the words of Mr Coleridge) as a psyco logical curiosity." Her Grace has of herself somewhere made this remarkable declaration, "I ALWAYS TOOK DELIGHT IN SINGULARITY!" On this principle, therefore, we find in all her productions reiterated assurances (which indeed some might consider superfluous) that she was utterly and voluntarily destitute of book-learning; and that her Whig principles, in matters of literature at least, were so violent, that she absolutely renounced and contemned all rules, laws, and authorities, whatever. We repeat, therefore, that works, composed on such foundation, should be looked upon as a psycological curiosity; for let any authoress, however highly endowed by nature, set out and proceed with a passion for singularity-a renunciation of common sense and all established rules-a detestation and voluntary ignorance of books,-let an authoress, we say, be thus guided and actuated, and, moreover, resolve at the same time to write perpetually, and to print all that she writes, it surely may at "As for my being the true and only least be expected that her compositions authoress of them (her various publications), will be metaphysically curious and your Lordship knows best; and my attendnovel at least; while that there should ing servants are witnesses that I have had be a plentiful harvest of absurdity and none but my own thoughts, fancies, and extravagance, must be owing as much speculations, to assist me; and as soon as I to this peculiar system as to natural set them down, I send them to those that imbecilities of character in the said are to transcribe them and fit them for the authoress. press; whereof there have been several, and "I always took delight in singulari- among them such as could only write a VOL. IV.

"As for the niceties of rules, forms, and terms, I renounce, and protest that if I did understand and know them strictly, as I do not, I would not follow them: and if any dislike my writings for the want of these

rules, forms, and terms, let him not read them; for I had rather that my writings should be unread, than be read by such pedantical scholastic persons."

And in the dedication to the life of her husband occurs the following passage:

2 R

good hand, but understood neither orthography nor had any learning; I being then in banishment with your Lordship, and not able to maintain learned secretaries, which hath been a great disadvantage to my poor works, and the cause that they have been printed so false and full of errors: for, besides that I wanted also skill and scholarship in true writing, I did many times not peruse the copies that were transcribed, lest they should disturb my following concep tions; by which neglect, as I said, many errors are slipped into my works, which yet I hope learned and impartial readers will soon rectify, and look more upon the sense than the words."

But to return to the volume of plays, from which we believe that no extracts have till now been reprinted. It would appear that the numerous prefatory notices have been written chiefly for the sake of declaring her contempt for all the rules and practices of preceding or contemporary dramatists. More especially, her Grace has objected to the commonly received opinion, that every character introduced should, less or more, assist in bringing about the final denouement of the plot. This, no doubt, required some degree of submissive precaution and contrivance, and therefore it is an excellence utterly renounced by the Duchess.

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"I do not," she exclaims, "perceive any reason why that the several persons presented should be all of an acquaintance, or that there is a necessity to have them all of one fraternity, or to have a relation to each other, or linked in alliance as one family; when as playes are to present the general follies, vices, vanities, humours, dispositions, passions, affections, fashions, customs, manners, and practices, of the whole world of mankind, as in several persons; also particular follies, vanities, vices, humours, passions, affections, fashions, fortunes, customs, and the like, in particular persons; also the sympathy and antipathy of dispositions, humours, passions, customs, and fashions, of several persons; also the particular virtues and graces in several persons, and several virtues and graces in particular persons; and all these varieties to be drawn at the latter end into one piece, as into one company, which, in my opinion, shews neither usual, probable, nor natural." Whatever were the strange fancies that our heroine conceived or adopted, my Lord Duke seems always ready to welcome and encourage them all. Accordingly, we have a complimentary copy of verses, by this nobleman, prefixed to the plays, and beginning, "Terence' and Plautus' wit we now do

scorn,

Their comic socks worn out, in pieces torn;

Only their rags of wit remain as toyes
For pedants to admire, to teach schoolboyes;”
And concluding,

Unwilling, willingly still to obey;
"So we are all your subjects in each play,
Nor have a thought but what you make or
draw

Us by the power of your wit's great law; Thus Emperess in soveraign pow'r yours sits, Over the wise, and tames poetic wits.

W. N."

Then follows a long poetical introduction, of her Grace's own composition, of which the concluding lines are strongly characteristic. "All the materials in my head did grow, All is my own, and nothing do I owe; But all that I desire, when as I dye, My memory in my own works may lye: And when as others build them marble tombs (To inurn their dust) and fretted vaulted I care not where my dust or bones remain, So my works live, the labour of my braine I covet not a stately cut carv'd tomb, But that my works in Fame's house may have room:

rooms,

Thus I my poor built cottage am content, When that i dye may be my monument."

We are then made acquainted (by degrees, in the course of a large folio, containing no less than nineteen plays) with a numberless multitude of worshipful personages, some of whom, if it were only (as Falstaff says) for the sake of a "commodity of good names,” may deserve an introduction to our readers.

The Lord Singularity and Lady Perfection
Sir Humphry Bolde Lady Bashful
Sir Timothy Compliment Mrs Acquaintance
Sir Roger Exception Mrs Reformer
Lady Ignorance
Lady Innocence

Sir Serious Dumbe
Lord De L'Amour
Sir Effeminate Lovely
Roger Trusty
Captain Whiffell
Doctor Comfort
Captain Ruffell

Lady Amorous

Doll Subtility Nan Lightheel Joan Cry-out Doll Pacify

such personages would act and speak It was of course to be expected that according to their several characters and attributes; and accordingly we find, that although the Duchess proved irreproachably chaste and correct in her own deportment, yet the Muses have led her into society whose manners and conversation certainly, in modern times, appear not a little alarming and repulsive. Yet, after all, her Grace must be allowed, in this respect, to keep at an infinite distance from our old friend Aphra Behn; who absolutely dwells upon and luxuriates in such passages of her very lively and ingenious plays, as, if read in a mo

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