The security which was given to private property by Magna Charta, -the establishment of fixed courts of judicature,--and the increase of towns, were the first results of that happy combination of valour and free wisdom which formed the earliest elements of the English character. That the great charter was the reward rather of foreseeing policy than of any sudden impulse,—that it sprung from the rooted principle of liberty, and not from the mere temporary suggestions of expediency, is strongly evidenced by the care with which each succeeding generation struggled to confirm its enactments. No less than thirtyfive times, it is stated, was this charter ratified at the instance of the nation; and when it is considered that, in the pursuit of such solidly important objects, the community never acts without a guide, that it is not kept together without the compacting power of many superior minds,—it will be easily seen how numerous a class of eminent men must have been formed in the active and popular walks of life, while our literature was quietly nourished by souls of a sedater and more tranquil nature. The leaders of the parliament in the reigns of Edward I. and his two immediate successors, had a perilous and untried labour to perform. In the actions and characters of these men, as far as they can be at all known, the thoughful reader can scarcely fail of taking a lively interest. They had to convince the sovereign that there was strength in the people when that strength was yet unexhibited; to establish maxims, which it required much light to render intelligible, but to support which they had only the simple expedient of attempting resistance. The first Edward's reign was one of memorable events for the monarchy: that of the second, and of the third, for the nation. Notwithstanding the reputation attending the successes of the last-mentioned monarch, the power of the people acquired new strength under his sceptre. We now hear of a king's being obliged not only to sacrifice his prime minister to the will of his people's representatives, but even to banish his mistress. This increase of authority in the people was not a naked or isolated good. While it tended to produce the most advantageous results, it was itself the result of many prosperous circumstances. The nation was in the healthy growing time of youth; its energies were continually multiplying; it seemed every year to see more clearly some branch of its interest or duty. A greater value was hence given both to industry and talent; jurisprudence had no longer a mere theory by which to try its maxims, but an actual state of things; and it may be learnt even from the very regulations which were passed to protect or promote trade-injudicious as the most of them were that it was now plainly seen how greatly the strength of the country depended upon the labour of the commonalty. Until the reign of Edward III., the civil and canon law appear to have preponderated in all the courts; but in this reign the practice of the common law courts was much improved by the introduction of a strict system of pleading. "Under the reign of Edward III.,” says Sir Matthew Hale, "the law was improved to its greatest height. The judges and pleaders were very learned. The pleadings are more polish "The charter was ratified four times by Richard III., twice by Edward I., fifteen times by Edward III., seven times by Richard II., six times by Henry IV., and once by Henry V."-Lingard. ed than those in the time of Edward II., yet they have neither uncertainty, prolixity, nor obscurity. So that, at the latter part of this king's reign, the law seemed to be near its meridian." A terrible proof was given of the advance of popular independence, as opposed to the undefined exercise of royal prerogatives, in the reign of Richard II. It was terrible, because the struggle had the character about it of violence and injustice; and because it was chiefly forced on by the machinations of ambitious and discontented nobles, whose evil passions incited them to attempts which the gradual enlightenment of the nation at large would have rendered unnecessary, even in the cause of freedom. It is observed by Hume, that "the circumstances of this event, compared with those which attended the revolution in 1688, show the difference between a great and civilized nation, deliberately vindicating its established privileges, and a turbulent and barbarous aristocracy plunging headlong from the extremes of one faction into those of another." When, however, the different condition of the country at the two periods is considered, the wonder will be, not at the different manner in which the two revolutions were brought about, but at their similarly tranquil results. The The reign of Henry IV. was remarkable for its stern and even calmness. He acted in many respects like an absolute monarch, but secretly he yielded much to the popular cause. His conduct in reducing the power of the nobles was a master-piece of policy in respect to the throne, but it was a far greater benefit to the people than to himself. "His title being exclusively founded upon a revolution, he was compelled to adopt popular principles, and to magnify the parliamentary authority from which his own was derived. His most arbitrary measures were proposed under colour of a necessity, which prevented them from growing into precedents subversive of the constitution. princes of his house, by patronising principles favourable to their own title, promoted the subsequent progress of liberty; although their measures of government, considered in their motives and in their immediate effects, are entitled to no more commendation than those of most other monarchs of their age. 913 Henry was not a popular monarch either in his disposition or his actions; and the good which the nation acquired in his reign was the fruit of its own energy, which had created a condition of things in which justice and freedom were no longer to be the gifts of the sovereign's magnanimity, but the staple commodity of the commonwealth. In the military triumphs of Henry V. we trace the still enlarging power of the country, and the strengthening of its bulwarks by the patriotism of the people. The other events of his reign exhibit the mighty struggle which was going on between the barbarous principles of intolerance and arbitrary power, and those to which the nation was indebted for all its bright and cheering prospects. Religious light is too frequently the last good which a people rapidly pressing forward in the pursuit of wealth or liberty aim at obtaining. Religious truth, and the duties which pertain to its free diffusion, are consequently seldom established in their minds so soon as those which relate to their property as citizens. We ought not, therefore, to be greatly surprised, 2 Hist. of the Common Law. Sir J. Mackintosh. perhaps, that while a constant effort was made on the part of the people to increase their power, and limit the prerogatives of the crown, they willingly, for the most part, assented to the most horrible exercise of authority when the title of Lollard or heretic could be applied to the victim. But fearfully did the nation pay for this dark and slothful compliance with the enemies of toleration. The reign of Henry VI., as indeed the whole period from Henry VI. to that of Richard III., was stormy and sanguinary. Insurrections and a civil war,—a fierce and ruinous struggle, which ended, not in the triumph of the people, but in the exaltation of a prince whose whole course was one of splendid vanity. "For the faithful and loving hearts,” said he, "and also the great labours that ye have borne and sustained towards me in the recovering of the said right and title which I now possess, I thank you with all my heart, and if I had any better good to reward you withal than my body, ye should have it, the which shall always be ready for your defence, never sparing nor letting for no jeopardy, praying you all of your hearty assistance and good countenance, as I shall be unto you very rightwise and loving liege lord." But courteous as were these assurances, the nation received no benefit at his hands. The reign of Edward IV., it is observed by Mr Hallam," is the first during which no statute was passed for the redress of grievances, or maintenance of the subject's liberty." Unfortunately, the influence of his example, and the blind pleasure which men take in pomp and show, loosened the nerves of the nation. "Both lords and commons, says Dr Lingard, "during his reign, instead of contending like their predecessors for the establishment of rights, and the abolition of grievances, made it their principal study to gratify the royal pleasure." The consequences of this were soon felt. As the kingdom was now situated the only firm security of legitimate authority lay in the freedom and improvement of the people. The overthrow of his family,—the usurpation of Richard III.,-and the disastrous contentions which had to be endured before tranquillity was restored,-were the almost inevitable result of such a reign as that of Edward the Fourth's. Nor can we believe that the country would so soon have righted itself, had it not been for the possession of some remaining intelligence in the community, and an intrinsic fitness in the yet infant policy to establish its liberties on a firm basis. The very first debate of the commons on the accession of Henry VII., furnishes some curious matter in illustration of the advancement which the public mind had, by that time, made in sound political feeling. There was a strong bias on the part of the lawyers to question every measure, even those which most intimately regarded the sovereign himself, till rule or precedent could be brought to justify it. On the other hand, there was enough of plain, practical wisdom, and a sufficient quick-sightedness on the side of the people to prevent their becoming the dupes of mere technical niceties and distinctions. When, therefore, it was found impossible to define the right by which Henry was to be considered the legal possessor of the crown, all classes very wisely indicated their consent in silence to forget the flaw in his title, that they might enjoy, with the better security, the peace and prosper. ity which his clevation brought them. In pursuing the history of literature, the mind is continually disposed to question the truth of the statements which philosophers and critics have made as to the causes of its prosperity or decline. Like the plants most useful to mankind, it is found to flourish under a vast variety of circumstances: and in proportion to this its apparent hardihood, is the difficulty of determining with precision the principles by which it is acted upon from without. The most absolute monarchies as well as the freest republics have had their poets and their annalists: the most frugal and the most luxurious nations have shown themselves alike favourable to its growth and, in a similar manner, taste and genius have been found wanting in the most prosperous as well as in declining states. The different principalities of Germany, and the republics of Italy, afford ample proof of this proposition on a small scale ; and the literary history of nations presents a similar result, less obvious perhaps and striking, but not the less curious and convincing. A The difficulty, however, here alluded to, is less in the earlier than in the later periods of inquiry. This is equally the case with the literature of England, France and Italy. We are enabled through the common national records of these countries to trace their progress in intellectual refinement with satisfaction and accuracy, and, in many respects, assign a cause for their improvement up to the period when society assumed a new aspect, and the minds of men became subject to indirect influences sufficient in strength and number to outweigh or modify the more natural and obvious causes of advancement. In Italy, the cradle of modern literature, learning and the muses followed closely on the track of reviving order and liberty. The excitement which belongs to periods in which new commonwealths begin to feel conscious of their strength is almost in all cases favourable to the creation of a literature. Speculation is then awake,-thought has ample room for exertion,—truth has few enemies,—and hope is bold and vigorous. strong, practical sense of poetry is thence generated. The people at large blend with their activity a desire of intelligence which renders them attentive to every one who can present a new idea or lead them to new experiments. Genius can, therefore, never lie dormant in such times. Every thing is in favour of its developement-there is nothing, when it comes forth, to daunt or lower it. The situation of the Italian republics in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries was precisely that which fosters the human mind into confidence, and gives the highest possible value to knowledge. Before the end of the twelfth century, the states of Lombardy abounded in men whose profound acquaintance with civil law indicated an advancement in intellectual pursuits as extensive as it was rapid.' By the middle of the thirteenth century, poetry and the fine arts began to exhibit their powers; and the close of that period beheld the triumphs of a Cimabue, a Giotto, and a Dante.2 Shortly after appeared Petrarch and Boccaccio, two men not more admirable as writers, than as scholars and patrons of learning. Taking advantage of the increasing intelligence of their countrymen, they employed their energy and various talents in strengthening the inclination for study which was every where apparent. They were joined in this laudable endeavour by others who venerated them for their genius: the Tiraboschi Storia della letter. Ital. t. v. lib. II. c. iv. 1 classics began to be studied with care and enthusiasm: the arrival of learned Greeks from Constantinople was the signal for commencing the study of Homer and Plato: manuscripts were collected, professorships instituted, and in a few years, Italy could boast of a race of poets and scholars whose names would for ever remain venerable in the history of literature. France, in the mean time, was making considerable progress in similar studies; but the circumstances of the country were different, and it was chiefly to the university of Paris, and the concourse of distinguished men to that celebrated seat of learning, that she owed her importance in the literary world. Theology, with all the auxiliary studies of scholastic logic and metaphysics, formed the chief pursuit of the university; but these branches of learning were cultivated with a diligence which rendered the intellect of the patient scholar as acute as it was active, and when a disposition is felt to ridicule the subtleties of logic, it should be remembered, that in the age when it was most in fashion to employ that science, the acuteness which it gave was, in some measure at least, a safe-guard against the wild and vague reveries of superstition. While France and Italy were thus rapidly advancing to a period of great intellectual refinement, England also reaped some advantage from the opening of those sources of instruction to which they were indebted for their improvement. Nor was its political condition altogether unfavourable to the progress of knowledge. William the Conqueror had introduced a race of men into the country who were accustomed to regard themselves as sovereigns of the lands which were given them as the wages of their valour. The laws which oppressed the conquered inhabitants abridged not the freedom of these Norman soldiers; and when the Saxon spirit revived and mingled itself with that which inspired the Norman knights and barons with their love of independence, a desire for, and a knowledge of liberty were produced, which had an important influence on the moral and intellectual as well as political state of the community. The grand contest of the barons with King John affords a plain indication of the firm and continued growth of this feeling; and when to this were added the advantages soon after derived from increasing wealth, from intercourse with foreign countries, from the establishment of distinguished scholars in many of the important posts of government, England was placed in a state well-calculated for the nourishment of the first seeds of literature. It was long, however, before the materials of learning were brought into this country, or obtained any general circulation. As late as the year 1299, we find a bishop of Winchester borrowing a bible of the cathedral-convent of St Swithin, and giving a bond, couched in the most formal terms, for its return. Warton observes, in speaking of the same period, that when a book was bequeathed to any one by will, it was seldom without several restrictions and stipulations: that if a person presented a book to a religious house, he offered it with great solemnity on the altar, and considered that the gift merited eternal salvation: that the most terrible anathemas were pronounced against those who should be guilty of taking a book presented to a religious house, and, as an instance of this, it is stated, that the prior and convent of Rochester declared, that they would every year pronounce the irrevocable sentence of damnation on him who should purloin or conceal a Latin translation of Aristotle's |