mirable translation of Froissart.'

Some words

have inadvertently been used, which, to us, savour more of vulgarity than beseems the language of chivalry. Such are the phrases, "devilry," "Sir Knave," "Don False One," and some others. But we only mention these, to show that our general praise has not been inconsiderately bestowed.

Mr Southey has made an apology for not translating the names, which convey some meaning in the original: "I have used Beltenebros, instead of the Beautiful Darkling, or the Fair Forlorn; Florestan, instead of Forester; El Patin, instead of the Emperor Gosling; as we speak of Barbarossa, not Red-Beard; Boccanegra, not Black Muzzle ; St Peter, not Stone the Apostle." We cannot help thinking this apology as unnecessary, as the examples are whimsical. Proper names are never rendered into a familiar dialect, but with a view of making them ridiculous; although they are sometimes translated into a less known language, to give them dignity. Thus, Mr Wood is said to have been converted into Dr Lignum, and to have gained by the exchange; while it is well known that the Portuguese ambassador, Don Pedro Francisco Correo de Sylva, was chased from the court of Charles the Second, by the ridicule attached to the nickname of Pierre du Bois, into which his sounding title was rendered by the Duke of Buckingham: and, surely, to talk of the Chief Consul Good-part, would be as absurd as the epithet

He that would acquire an idea of the language of chivalry, cannot too often study the work of Bourchier Lord Berners.

would be inapplicable. As for Stone the Apostle, we have only heard of one bearing that name, who had also the fate of a prophet; for his doctrines were no otherwise honoured in his own country, than by the notice of the King's attorney-general.'

So much for the prose edition of Amadis, with the perusal of which we have been highly gratified.

We have already given it as our opinion, that the history of Amadis was, in its original state, a metrical romance. We remember, also, to have seen an Italian poem in ottava rima, called Il Amadigi, chiefly remarkable for the whimsical rule which the poet had imposed upon himself, of opening each canto with a description of the morning, and closing it with a description of the night. Mr William Stewart Rose has now favoured the public with a poetical version of the First Book of Amadis, containing the birth and earlier adventures of the hero, and closing with his gaining possession of Oriana.

In our remarks upon this poem, we are more inclined to blame, in some degree, Mr Rose's plan, than to find fault with the execution, which appears to us, upon the whole, to be nearly as perfect as

[The Rev. Richard Stone, A. M., Rector of Norton, Essex, was, May 1808, on trial in the Consistory Court, convicted of having preached and published doctrines regarding the Messiah, subversive of the authority of certain passages in two of the Evangelists, and which when called upon to revoke he refused. Sir William Scott officially reported the case to an Ecclesiastical Convocation, in which the Bishop of London forthwith pronounced sentence of degradation, depriving Mr Stone of his clerical benefice.]

the plan admitted. Mr Rose has indeed stated his pretensions so very modestly, that perhaps we are warranted in thinking, that a culpable degree of diffidence has prevented him from assuming a tone of poetry more decided and animated.

"That the extract I now present to the public," says Mr Rose, "is closely translated, I cannot venture to affirm. I have, I confess, attempted to introduce some of those trifling ornaments, which even the simplest style of poetry imperiously demands, and have, in many instances, altered the arrangement, and very much contracted the narration of the original : trust, however, that I shall not be convicted of having, in my trifling deviations, introduced any thing which is at variance with the spirit or tone of the celebrated romance.'

With the alterations and abbreviations of Mr Rose we have not the most distant intention of quarrelling; on the contrary we think, that his too close adherence to his original is the greatest defect in the book. Mr Rose was not engaged in translating a poem, but in composing one; the story of which was adopted from a prose work. We therefore do not conceive that he was obliged to limit himself to trifling ornaments, or to the very simplest style of poetry. Even in modernizing ancient poetry, and that, too, the poetry of Chaucer, containing no small portion of fire, Dryden thought himself at liberty to heighten and enlarge the descriptions of his great master. But in his versions from prose pieces,-in the tale of Theodore and Honoria, for example, he borrowed from Boccacio only the outline of the story; the language, the conduct, and the sentiment, were all his own, and all in the highest strain of poetry. In like manner, we

cannot see why Mr Rose should have thought himself obliged to follow in any respect the prose of Herberay, while he himself was writing poetry. We can easily conceive that a prose romance may be converted into a metrical romance or epic poem ; but we cannot allow, that there ought to subsist betwixt two works, the style of which is so very different, the relations of a translation and an original work. In consequence of Mr Rose's plan, it appears to us that his poem has suffered some injury. The necessity of following out minutely the prose narrative, occasions an occasional languor in the poem, for which simple, and even elegant versification, does not atone. We will, however, frankly own, that the casual circumstance of having perused Mr Southey's prose work before the poem of Mr Rose may have had some influence upon our criticism; since our curiosity being completely forestalled, we may have felt a diminished interest in the latter from a cause not imputable to want of merit.

The avowed model upon which Mr Rose has framed his Amadis is the translation of Le Grand's Fabliaux by Mr Way; and it is but justice to state that, in our opinion, he has fully attained what he proposed. An easy flow of verse, partaking more of the school of Dryden than of Pope, and checkered, occasionally, with ancient words and terms of chivalry, seems well calculated for the narration of romance and legendary tale. The following passage is a successful imitation of Chaucer :

"To tell, as meet, the costly feast's array,
My tedious tale would hold a summer's day :
I let to sing who mid the courtly throng
Did most excel in dance or sprightly song;
Who first, who last, were seated on the dais;
Who carped of love and arms in courtliest phrase,
What many minstrels harp, what bratchets lie

The feet beneath, what hawks were placed on high."

We do not pretend to say, that Mr Rose's poetry is altogether free from the common-places of the time. Such lines occur as these:

"Nearer and nearer bursts the deafening crash,
Athwart the lurid clouds red lightnings flash."

But if Mr Rose's plan prevented him from aspiring to the higher flights of poetry, he never, on the other hand, disgusts the reader by sinking into bathos. We are persuaded that the public would be interested in a modern version of some of our best metrical romances by Mr Rose. We are the more certain of this, because we have read the notes to Amadis with very great satisfaction. We pay them a very great compliment, indeed, when we say, that they resemble in lightness and elegance, though not in extent of information, those of George Ellis to Way's Fabliaux.