country. In Italy the pomp of the ceremony was half of the charm of the acquisition. In England the laurel was only a poetical wreath: but sometimes attended with a hogshead of malmsey or port and some pieces of substantial gold.

The first poet laureate, that the books I have examined on the subject mention, is John Kay, in the reign of Edward IV. The universities of England had, probably, their laureates before this period. There is not a vestige left of the poetry of laureate Kay. Some of his prose translations are extant.

This poetical distinction from the earliest days in England has not, in itself, given immortality to any one; for a greater portion of those crowned, have been of the second or third rate poets, who happened to be in court favor. The sycophant who prostituted his muse to the courtier was recommended to the king, and his majesty not always being the best judge of poetry, was either deceived in the talents of his poet, or loved the pliancy of his poet's muse. When Shadwell was made poet laureate, in preference to Dryden, and Pye has received the crown as above his contemporary brothers of song, who will ever say that the laurel is proof of superiority in sense or rhyme?

In the reign of Henry VIII, something was done for English literature, rather by indirection than by direct influence. Barclay had written without taste or judgment, but was nevertheless distinguished, and in vogue when Henry received his education. Barclay was a moralist, and so far was well: of nature he knew no more than a very cit docs of the country. Skelton, his rival, received the Oxford laurel. Erasmus praised him; he pronounces him the "Brittannicarum litera

rum lumen et decus;" but a foreigner's opinion of native literature is not worth much, except he speaks the same language with great accuracy, even if he be as great a man as Erasmus himself. Skelton was vehement, and vehemence is sometimes an indication of genius, but not a proof of it. Lord Surry followed him, and was an ornament to the reign of Henry VIII. Surry had more polish than all his predecessors. Many works of his were graceful and natural. He translated a portion of Virgil into blank verse. Surry may be considered the father of blank verse, in English; which kind of verse reached the fulness of its glories in Milton; but which has held its high rank in all the vicissitudes of poetical measure. It is susceptible of magnificence, ease, sweetness; and of nearly all the euphony of rhyme. It is suited rather to the didactic and the tragic, than to the sprightly, and the comic muse; but there can be no perfect canons of criticism for exuberant genius, teaming with inspiration. Writers in prose should be taken notice of as well as those in verse, in our notice of the progress of our mother tongue, and our native train of thought. The first among the number was the renowned traveller, Sir John Mandeville. He was born at St. Albans, 1300. He was well educated, and possessed an ardent curiosity to see other countries; such a curiosity as in more modern times possessed the breasts of our extraordinary Ledyard, and the English Mungo Park. He set out on his travels in 1332, and was a wanderer for thirty-four years. He was hardly known on his return; the grace of manly beauty had changed to the gray hairs of age. He had swept over a great portion of Asia Minor, Asia and Africa, and

brought back most wonderful tales, more of which are believed at this day, than were then. Whatever he says he saw may be generally believed. It is that part of his history that recounts the legends he had learnt, which is among the marvellous.

These accounts falling into the possession of the ecclesiastics of that day, made them desirous of visiting the Holy Land. The continent was not behind England in travellers. The Mirabellia Mundi, were studied by all who could read, and communicated to those who could not; and it may be said that the public mind was inflamed for oriental wonders. These travels excited the reading community of those days, and thousands read who had not enthusiasm and courage enough to become travellers. Mandeville was acquainted with many languages; and he sent his book into the world in three different tongues.

In the thirteenth century, Ralph Higden had compiled in Latin, a chronicle of events, which was translated by Trevisa. It is made up of history, fiction, and traditions, such as he found, but probably he did not add any thing to them. There are some fine sketches of natural character in this work, particularly of the Irish and Welsh. This author translated portions of the Bible, at the instance of a patron of learning-Lord Berkely. It does not appear that this translation or any portion of it is now extant.

Not long after Trevisa, followed Wickliffe-the pioneer in English history, of bold and liberal doctrines. He was learned, and distinguished in college halls; having been a professor of divinity at Oxford. He felt the influence of a master spirit, and came out upon various orders of friars with the indignant feeling of a

hater of abuses, and scourged them with the strong hand of a reformer. For his temerity he lost his office, by the authority of the Archbishop of Canterbury; he appealed from him to the Pope; and finding the Pope no friend, he came out in full force against His Holiness. He was 66 a root and branch man." The Popes pursued his memory with such malice, that thirty years after his death, Martin V issued a bull to dig up his bones and throw them on a dung-hill. What impotent malice! Wickliffe was a voluminous writer; his English is among the best of his age. He may be truly considered the founder of the Protestant religion, for he gave the people the word of God in their vernacular, and they were anxious to read it. Wickliffe was sound in all the doctrines of the Protestant faith.

The work containing those portions of the Old and New Testament translated by Wickliffe, has come down to us, and is now a curiosity; and not less so from its being the fountain of the Biblical knowledge of many of our ancestors, who were not acquainted with the original language of the Scriptures. He died sixteen years before Chaucer, a younger man at his death than the poet.

Mandeville, Wickliffe, and Gower, were styled "the three evangelists of our tongue," but still these were considered as inferior to Chaucer; and to continue the language of the quotation—“ though all elder in birth than Chaucer, yet they did not begin so early to work upon the ore of their native language." These writers had genius, and language becomes plastic in the hands of these great masters of thought and expression.

Bishop Peacock was a learned writer of this age,

and his works added more to the English language than they did to theology, or his own happiness. He was a tolerant sensible man, and of course persecuted in that age.

Divinity alone did not monopolize the reformers of style, language and taste of that age; the law puts in claims also. Sir John Fortescue, an eminent lawyer, was a distinguished writer of that age. He was honored by the king, but was a portion of his life an exile. He was a learned lawyer and a fine scholar, and is the first English writer I know of, who has given a distinction between a limited, and what is called an absolute monarchy. Sir John is the pride of lawyers.

We come now to a period in which it may be said that the fountains of the great deep of knowledge were broken up, and the floods of light and intelligence fell upon the children of men. This period is that of the invention, or rather of the use of printing. The individual who brought printing into England, and issued from his press any thing English, was William Caxton. He was learned and zealous in the cause of learning. He was taught the sublime art of printing in Holland, and brought it to his native land in the year 1474. The first book printed in England was "The Game of Chess." In four years afterwards a press was established at Oxford, and not long after, at St. Albans. Caxton printed many books; some of his editions have come down to us, besides Wickliffe's Bible. He was a sincere lover of literature. Caxton did much for the language of his native country, while many others were busy in ancient literature. He printed the Chronicles of England. These chronicles were legendary tales-full of romance, and generally