of the troubadour and the melody of the Moorish ballad, the rich elements of that Castilian literature which began to be moulded into form in the court of Isabella's infancy. The old Celtic Biscayan, the Gothic mountaineer of Cantabria, the chivalrous and stately Castilian, the independent Aragonese, the turbulent Catalonian, the accomplished Arab of Granada, and the domesticated Jew of Cordova, who had grown up in his adopted country, to be both a learned Rabbi and a wealthy usurer, were all to be subjected to one common rule, and compressed into national union. With these discordant elements of population, Spain had been long split into numerous petty states, which, by the progress of conquest and marriage, had been reduced to the four kingdoms of Navarre, Aragon, Castile, and Granada, existing at the birth of Ferdinand and Isabella. Their marriage united the great crowns of Castile and Aragon; their united arms accomplished the final downfall of the Moorish dynasty in Granada; and their policy and arms together secured the little frontier kingdom of Navarre; and thus, in the compass of a single reign, built up and completed the internal structure of modern Spain; while their domestic reforms and steady administration of the laws reduced the turbulent to subjection, and brought order out of chaos. In the mean time Sicily and the Balearic Isles had descended on Ferdinand with the crown of Aragon (Dr. Robertson to the contrary notwithstanding*); but in his reign were added Naples and the whole of Lower Italy; while the discoveries of Columbus extended the Spanish empire into regions before unknown; and the arms of Ximenes acquired for it a new sovereignty in the north of Africa. The character and policy of the sovereigns who accomplished these wonders in so brief a period, we see at once must be worthy of study; but it was a part of that character, as it always is of greatness, to find fitting agents for mighty ends, who add new interest to the scene. To say nothing of a host of eminent inferiors, we shall have said enough when we remind the reader of three of the greatest men who ever lived in any age or country, with qualities of greatness widely differing, and marked characters.

"Ferdinand owed the crown of Aragon to the unexpected death of his elder brother, and acquired the kingdom of Naples and Sicily by violating the faith of treaties, and disregarding the ties of blood.' Robertson, Hist. of Charles V., Vol. II. p. 2.

which have no other mutual parallel than their common grandeur, "The Admiral," Columbus,-"The Great Captain," Gonsalvo, the wonderful Ximenes. Their lives belong to the reign of Ferdinand and Isabella.

We hold it therefore to be just matter of congratulation to the whole literary world, that this interesting and instructive chapter of modern history has at length been written, and so thoroughly that it will not require, as most Spanish history does, to be re-written. We are gratified that such a work has originated in this country; and pleased too to observe by a foreign advertisement, that it is in course of publication, under suitable auspices, at London, as well as here. Indeed it has probably already appeared there; and although we cannot anticipate for a large historical work by an unknown American, that kind of rapid and ephemeral popularity which greets the newest novel from a familiar hand, we shall be disappointed if the literary portion of the British public do not give the stranger a fair welcome, and admit him gradually to the place he is entitled to hold among the historians of our common language. At the commencement of the reign of their own young, beautiful, and accomplished queen, called to preside over the destinies of so great a nation, at a moment demanding so much of wisdom, justice, moderation, and independence in its government, it would seem as if more than common interest might be felt in the authentic exhibition of these kingly qualities, in a female sovereign of such precious example and glorious memory, as Isabella of Castile, whose only fault was a virtue, perverted by the bigotry of the times. Nor can we republicans contemplate her true-hearted respect for the just rights of the people, so rare in that age, without some augmentation of that filial regard which we entertain for her as the mother of America, an appellation to which this eminent woman is justly entitled; and if we cannot feel the same love for the cold-hearted and selfish Ferdinand, we may at least admire the depth of his policy, and the vigor of bis administration, doing him the poor justice not to adopt those grossly exaggerated views of his hypocrisy and deception, which have so commonly deformed the pages of other writers. The politicians and statesmen of both countries will find in the history of this reign much food for reflection on the nature of governments, whether royal or republican. The scholar will find a rich treat of literary mingled with po

litical history. The general reader cannot fail to be interested and surprised at the number of striking incidents and bloodstirring adventures crowded into the compass of a few years. And the gentler sex may find in the life of Isabella, not only something to excite their domestic sympathy, but much excellent example also, even for those who are not born to grace a throne. They will be particularly struck with that harmonious action by which the royal couple accomplished their united purposes; that happy mingling of interest, affection, and authority, which cherished mutual respect, and claimed mutual support, without compromising the dignity or independence of either; and that graceful division of the cares of sovereignty which assigned the foreign relations and military movements to Ferdinand, while his queen regulated the internal affairs of the great national household, not neglecting, meanwhile, the humbler domestic duties which fall within the ordinary sphere of a wife and a mother.

But we are getting prosy. This sounds sermonical. And lo! we have already rambled over almost a dozen pages, about the age and the country, and the people, and the writers who have not described them, without having given the least notion of the book, which we set about introducing to the notice of our readers. Dr. Dunham will begin to complain in his turn of a literary hodgepodge. And yet surely we cannot be expected to despatch in a minute what has occupied the author, it seems, as long as the siege of Troy. Indeed the most cursory inspection manifests that his is a work of uncommon diligence and labor, without which no history worth reading can be written, whatever may be the talent of the writer. Every page is crowded with references to works in foreign languages, many extremely rare, and some wholly unpublished, the bare perusal of which is a long labor, which we hope to be spared, having ample evidence on his pages, that they have been by him not only read and consulted, but diligently studied and compared. And here we are struck with a fact, disclosed in the Preface, which places the book among the curiosities of literature. We will state it as it is given by the author.

"I hope I shall be acquitted of egotism, although I add a few words respecting the peculiar embarrassments I have encountered, in composing these volumes. Soon after my arrangements

were made, early in 1826, for obtaining the necessary materials from Madrid, I was deprived of the use of my eyes for all purposes of reading and writing, and had no prospect of again recovering it. This was a serious obstacle to the prosecution of a work, requiring the perusal of a large mass of authorities, in various languages, the contents of which were to be carefully collated, and transferred to my own pages, verified by minute reference. Thus shut out from one sense, I was driven to rely exclusively on another, and to make the ear do the work of the eye. With the assistance of a reader, uninitiated, it may be added, in any modern language but his own, I worked my way through several venerable Castilian quartos, until I was satisfied of the practicability of the undertaking. I next procured the services of one more competent to aid me in pursuing my historical inquiries. The process was slow and irksome enough, doubtless, to both parties, at least till my ear was accommodated to foreign sounds, and an antiquated, oftentimes barbarous phraseology, when my progress became more sensible, and I was cheered with the prospect of success. It certainly would have been a far more serious misfortune, to be led thus blindfold through the pleasant paths of literature; but my track stretched, for the most part, across dreary wastes, where no beauty lurked, to arrest the traveller's eye and charm his senses. After persevering in this course for some years, my eyes, by the blessing of Providence, recovered sufficient strength to allow me to use them, with tolerable freedom, in the prosecution of my labors, and in the revision of all previously written. I hope I shall not be misunderstood, as stating these circumstances to deprecate the severity of criticism, since I am inclined to think the greater circumspection I have been compelled to use has left me, on the whole, less exposed to inaccuracies, than I should have been in the ordinary mode of composition. But, as I reflect on the many sober hours I have passed in wading through black letter tomes, and through manuscripts whose doubtful orthography and defiance of all punctuation were so many stumblingblocks to my amanuensis, it calls up a scene of whimsical distresses, not usually encountered, on which the good-natured reader may, perhaps, allow I have some right, now that I have got the better of them, to dwell with satisfaction." pp. xi. — xiii.

He quotes, too, in a note from Johnson's "Life of Milton," a passage which we may easily imagine was sufficiently appalling. "To compile a history from various authors, when they can only be consulted by other eyes, is not easy, nor possible, but with more skilful and attentive help than can

"This re

be commonly obtained." And to this he adds ; mark of the great critic, which first engaged my attention in the midst of my embarrassments, although discouraging at first, in the end stimulated the desire to overcome them."

We are not aware that literary history affords a similar example of a work of this nature, undertaken and accomplished, in spite of a natural infirmity, at the outset, which would seem almost fatal to success. We can imagine how the gifted poet, sightless in mature age, after a youth and early manhood spent, as Milton's was, in the acquisition of prodigious learning, should be able, in his darkness, to compose and pour out that eloquent and immortal flood of light, which almost dazzles and confounds with its sublimity the intellect of other men. But how the historian, or the lexicographer, should have the hardihood, and the perseverance, with other eyes, to grope his way from book to book, and through almost undecipherable manuscripts, collating and comparing again and again, for the purpose of weighing authorities and verifying minute facts by exact references, and should thus compose a work depending for its value mainly on its accuracy, is difficult to conceive. Yet Milton, we know, besides his great epic, projected and did much towards the production of a history of his own country, and a Latin Dictionary. He continued these labors "almost to his dying day; but the papers were so discomposed and deficient, that they could not be fitted for the press. His example, therefore, afforded only discouragement, and justifies at least the remarks of his biographer. To have persevered, as our author did, for years, under such circumstances, and with such success, can only be accounted for by applying to him another remark of Milton's biographer, "His mind was too eager to be diverted, and too strong to be subdued." The character which could overcome such obstacles is a large guarantee for the fidelity of his performance. And although he disclaims all indulgence for the fact, we should hold him richly entitled to liberal allowance for errors of minutiæ, if indeed we could find the least occasion to accord it. Fortunately, he has been enabled, it seems, of late, to revise with less dependence upon others; and we trust he may now be permitted, for many years, to pursue literary labors so honorable to himself, and so profitable to the public.

In estimating a new history of old times by a foreign hand, VOL. XLVI.-No. 98.

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