human eye had seen before, mountains with lovely waters streaming down. Firs and pines and trees of various form, and beautiful flowers, adorned the heights. Ascending the river which poured itself into the bay, I was astonished at the cool shade, the crystal-clear water, the number of singing birds. It seemed as if I never could quit a spot so delightful—as if a thousand tongues would fail to describe it—as if the spell-bound hand would refuse to write."
Here were materials for Chateaubriands and Lamartines, yet, excepting the great national epic of Portugal,[1] the influences of the new discoveries on literature as distinct from science were not very remarkable. It has been observed that Camoens, like Lucretius, gives us a picture of the water-spout; and no doubt his "cloud of woven vapour whirling round and round and sending down a thin tube to the sea" is at least as graphic as the Roman's "column reaching down from heaven to ocean." But, though Camoens tauntingly bids the learned "try to explain the wonderful things hidden from the world," the spirit of Lucretius was abroad. Before the poet's life closed (1579) Bacon was eighteen years of age; and that "experience," which against "so-called science" he had praised as "the sailor's only guide," was on its way
- ↑ "The Æneid," says Hallam (Lit., vol. ii. p. 205), "reflects the glory of Rome as from a mirror; the Lusiad is directly and exclusively what its name ('The Portuguese,' Os Lusiadas) denotes, the praise of the Lusitanian people. Their past history chimes in, by means of episodes, with the great event of Gama's voyage to India." Having made an exception in favour of the Lusiad, we must remind the reader that ocean and Indian scenery by no means banish conventional personification of Nature under classical figures. Venus and the Nereids save the fleet; Bacchus delivers a speech to the assembled gods of the sea; and Neptune in true Vergilian fashion bids Æolus let loose the winds on the Portuguese fleet. But contrast the absence of scenery in Ariosto and Tasso, and we shall admit with M. Laprade that the Lusiad "est le plus ancien monument de notre poésie chrétienne où la nature tienne une grande place et joue un rôle indépendant" (Le Sent. de la Nat. Chez les Mod., p. 78).
