have visited "all the ancient and secluded regions of romance," by which, I suppose, is meant every "lumber-house of books" in the country, but have myself taken considerable pains, and (as some possessors of old romances will probably allow) have given considerable trouble to others on the subject. In professing, however, to exhibit an accurate analysis of the chief prose works of fiction, I certainly would not be understood to mean, that the work is so minutely exact, as to contain a muster-roll of all the knights who fought with Lancelot, or a return of all the giants who were slain by Amadis or Esplandian, on the coast of Ethiopia.

Although I am by no means desirous to be considered of the number of those who "speken" with irreverence

Of men that romances rede

Of Keveloke, Horn, and of Wade,

nevertheless, I cannot help remarking an unlucky peculiarity which takes place in the republic of black letters, and which may be set down as a salutary caution to those who presume to venture into that region. In most other districts of literature, the possession of a book is not supposed to confer, like an amulet, any supernatural skill on its owner; nor does a person, for example, who is so lucky as to have a copy of the Æneid, suppose himself qualified, from this sole circumstance, to write a critique on epic poetry, or a review of Roman literature. The case is different in the republic to which I have alluded. There, if a person chance to light on a few leaves, which were in former times

Redeemed from tapers and defrauded pies,

he immediately sets up as an adept, and is even by his brethren acknowledged as such, though all the information he has to bestow, is, of how many pages or lines his fragment consists. It matters not how perfectly unimportant may be this fragment of

The classics of an age that heard of none;

and those who have not learned how many lines, half lines, capital letters, and blank pages it contains, are regarded as no more "entitled to courtesy than the Hermanticor of the Heafrates."

The author of the critique in the Quarterly Review, after begging leave to shut his eyes on Paganism, (by which is meant the romances written by the Bishop of Tricca and others, during the reigns of the Christian and orthodox emperors of Constantinople,) proceeds to compare himself and his coadjutors to the "Seven Sleepers of Ephesus," (Quart. Review, p. 386.) And sorry I am to observe, that (unless the critic procured only a fragment of my work) sleeping he must have been, or he could not have made the following observation: "Mr. Dunlop has confined himself to the French romances relating to Arthur and Charlemagne; but it would have been advisable to include in a History of Fiction, an account of such of the ancient romances, as, though irreducible to either of these classes, are valuable from their intrinsic merit or literary relationship." (p. 395.) Now, so far from confining myself to romances relating to Arthur and Charlemagne, I have devoted nearly half a volume, both in the present and former edition, to Amadis and

his descendants, and to those romances of which classical or mythological characters are the heroes.

The same slumber which closed his eyes on this part of the work, has exhibited to the Reviewer a tower in the romance of Merlin, where no tower existed. He has attributed to me an inaccuracy, in stating that the enchanter was enclosed in a bush instead of a tower; but any person who reads the passage, will see that he was in reality enclosed in the bush, but that, by the force of magic, it appeared to him that he was shut up in a strong tower. "La Damoyselle fist ung cerne autour du buysson et entour Merlin, &c., et quant il s'esveilla luy fut advis qu'il estoit enclos en la plus forte tour du monde." This phrase, luy fut advis, is the one constantly used in romance, to express the delusions of enchantment. Thus, when Perceforest mistakes the magician Darnant for his wife Idorus, when the sorcerer had assumed her appearance, it is said, "Lors dresse l'espée pour luy coupper la tete, et le prent par les cheveulx, et le voulut ferir; mais il luy fut advis qu' il tenoit la plus belle damoiselle que oncques veit par les cheveulx." That Merlin was enclosed in a bush, is also the interpretation of the editors of the Bibliotheque des Romans, who, whatever may be their faults in other respects, at least understood French as well as the reviewer, and who, in their account of Merlin, say, "Messire Gauvain et autres chevaliers se mirent en marche pour le (Merlin) chercher en differentes contrées, mais ce fut inutilement, et sa voix seule fut entendue dans la foret de Broceliande, ou Messire Gauvain le trouvoit enclos, arreté et invisible, a l'ombre d'un bois d' aubepine par le moyen d' un charme," &c. But I have much better authority to produce on this subject, than either my own or that of the authors of the

Bibliotheque des Romans. In the romance of Ysaie le Triste, the fairy Glorianda, whose credibility on this point cannot be called in question, depones to the confinement of Merlin in a tree. She and other fairies, protectresses of Ysaie, having informed the hermit, by whom the child of Tristan was brought up, of the demise of his parents, the recluse, who was not aware of the quality of his guests, presumes to ask their authority for these melancholy tidings. "Il n'y a gueres," replies the eldest of their number, "que nous estions en la Grande Bretaigne, en un bois que l'on appelle la forest d' Avaritez; et environ au meilleu a le plus bel arbre que oncques vissiez, dessoubz lequel Merlin est enfermé par l' engin de la Dame du Lac: nè jamais ne bougera tant que le siecle durera. Or avons accoustume que quand nous allons jouer par la forest voluntiers nous y reposons, et parlons a icelluy Merlin; et il nous respond: Là nous divisons, aucunes fois toute la nuit entiere." (L' Histoire de Isaie le Triste, c. iii.) So much for the belief of the reviewer that Merlin inhabits an aerial garret of the highest tower in the universe!

Nor need the reviewer "admire the caprice which induced Mr. Dunlop to confine himself to little more than a meagre outline of the life of the prophet," (p. 394); for, though one of the most curious romances of the class to which it belongs, "the Book of Merlin exactly corresponds," as the reviewer well remarks, "with the metrical romance so ably analyzed by Mr. Ellis," and of course is already known to the English reader in a form more agreeable than I could pretend to exhibit it. A similar caprice has induced me to "confine myself to little more than a meagre outline" of the romance of Amadis de Gaul, though one of the most curious of the class to which it be

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longs," because it has recently been faithfully and ably translated by Mr. Southey.

The mention of Amadis de Gaul reminds me of another heavy charge-that I have not treated the romances of chivalry in a manner sufficiently serious, and have even presumed to sneer at the society I have chosen (p. 408). Now certainly I did not think it necessary to contemplate the exploits of chivalry with the gravity of Ysaie le Triste, or the productions in which they are detailed, with the sad and sorrowful solemnity of the Knight of the Woful Countenance. Had I used the privilege recommended to me by the reviewer,

Nominibus mollire licet mala; fusca vocetur

Nigrior Illyricâ cui pice sanguis erit,

I fear I should be considered as having fallen into the phrensy of him who discovered a beautiful infanta in the coarse skin of Maritornos, and "mistook her hair, which was rough as a horse's mane, for soft flowing threads of curling gold." It is indeed difficult to know how to proceed, since it appears, from the CRITIQUE, that gravity is equally fatal to romantic topics, and equally to be avoided as levity: we are there informed of the melancholy fact, that the "last legend of Wade has missed us, in consequence of the provoking gravity of Speght and Kynaston, who have left untold the wonderful birth of Wade, or Vade, the son of King Vilkinus and the Sea Quean!" (p. 397.) I share all the critic's indignation at this hystorie, which I doubt not would have been right pleasaunt and delectable to rede, having missed us; and promise, on my own part, to assume the proper solemnity, whenever a graduated and accredited scale is published for that purpose.