his name before. This great legislator of
Parnassus has never alluded to one of our own poets, so insular then was
our literary glory! The most remarkable fact, or perhaps assertion, I
have met with, of the little knowledge which the Continent had of our
writers, is a French translation of Bishop Hall's "Characters of Virtues
and Vices." It is a duodecimo, printed at Paris, of 109 pages, 1610,
with this title _Characteres de Vertus et de Vices; tires de l'Anglois
de M. Josef Hall_. In a dedication to the Earl of Salisbury, the
translator informs his lordship that "_ce livre est la_ premiere
traduction de l'Anglois _jamais_ imprimee en aucun vulgaire"--the first
translation from the English ever printed in any modern language!
Whether the translator is a bold liar, or an ignorant blunderer, remains
to be ascertained; at all events it is a humiliating demonstration of
the small progress which our home literature had made abroad in 1610!

I come now to notice a contemporary writer, professedly writing the
history of our Poetry, of which his knowledge will open to us as we
proceed with our enlightened and amateur historian.

Father Quadrio's _Della Storia e dell' ragione d' ogni Poesia_,--is a
gigantic work, which could only have been projected and persevered in by
some hypochondriac monk, who, to get rid of the _ennui_ of life, could
discover no pleasanter way than to bury himself alive in seven monstrous
closely-printed quartos, and every day be compiling something on a
subject which he did not understand. Fortunately for Father Quadrio,
without taste to feel, and discernment to decide, nothing occurred in
this progress of literary history and criticism to abridge his volumes
and his amusements; and with diligence and erudition unparalleled, he
has here built up a receptacle for his immense, curious, and trifling
knowledge on the poetry of every nation. Quadrio is among that class of
authors whom we receive with more gratitude than pleasure, fly to
sometimes to quote, but never linger to read; and fix on our shelves,
but seldom have in our hands.

I have been much mortified, in looking over this voluminous compiler, to
discover, although he wrote so late as about 1750, how little the
history of English poetry was known to foreigners. It is assuredly our
own fault. We have too long neglected the bibliography and the literary
history of our own country. Italy, Spain, and France have enjoyed
eminent bibliographers--we have