identity with the great light of Mithras, by which the Kings of Persia swore: for be it remembered that the worship of Mithras was most extensively introduced at Rome during its later period. A sacred vessel of a similar nature certainly existed in the European mythologies, and is found again in the mystic goblet possessed by the fairies; yet there are the strongest reasons for believing that Oriental ideas have entered into the formation of the "Book of the Sangreal." Wolfram von Eschenbach has devoted his two romances of Titurel and Percival to the history of the discovery and quest of this miraculous vessel, and the theatre of the most important events is laid either in Asia or Africa. But the immediate source of Eschenbach's poem was a Provençal romance written by a certain Kiot or Guiot, who obtained his knowledge of the Graal from a MS. discovered at Toledo, written in a heathen character, of which the troubadour was compelled to make himself master; and the baptismal rite enabled him to accomplish this arduous task without the aid of necromancy. The author of this mysterious record was a heathen astronomer, Flegitanis by name, who on his mother's side traced up his genealogy to King Solomon; but having a Saracen father, he had adhered to his paternal faith, and worshipped a calf. Flegitanis was deeply versed in all the motions of the heavenly bodies, and in the hallowed volume deposited at Toledo, he had carefully inscribed the result of his nocturnal studies: mysteriously emblazoned amongst the stars, he had beheld the very name of the Sangraal, together with the important fact, that a band of spirits had left it upon earth as they winged their way to their celestial abodes.

f The Light, or revelation of the Cabalists;-Or hajaschor, self-existent light.-Or hachoser, reflected light.-(Philos. de la Tradition, p. 54.)

g It is the golden cup in which Hercules traversed the ocean, and

That flower of many honours, dwelt upon
By old prophetic light in time of yore,

the Lotus, or Water-lily.

The acquisition of this knowledge stimulated Kyot to further inquiries; and having perused the Chronicles of Brittany, France, and Ireland, without much success, he at length found the whole story recounted in the annals of Anjou. Divested of its extraordinary colouring, we may receive the whole narrative as amounting to this-that Kyot was indebted to an Arabic original for some of his details, and that the rest were collected from European records of the same fiction. A large proportion of the names are of decidedly Oriental origin-the very word "Graal" itself signifying a cup in Sanscrit. The Saracens are always spoken of with consideration-and the Arabic appellations of the seven planets are distinctly enumerated.

A most remarkable history is given by Eschenbach of the sanctuary or temple built for the preservation of the Graal in the mountains of Navarre. The materials were of the most costly and imperishable description, and the outline of the building was unexpectedly discovered upon a rock of onyx, which the day before had been cleared of the weeds and herbage that encumbered it. The access was rendered invisible to all, except the chosen few, by an impervious forest of cedar, cypress, and ebony, which surrounded it; and by the daily contemplation of the Graal, the lives of those chosen few were prolonged to more than five hundred years. That we have here an account of one of those singular Neo-Druidic establishments, occurring again at Montserrat, and in numerous places in the South of France, noticed by Reinaud, is proved by the discovery of numerous seals, ornaments, &c. inscribed with gnostic and astrological devices: and the whole history of the Sangraal has been considered by Price and others as connected with certain ideas of the Neo-Platonists, very generally diffused at this period.

H

CONCLUSION.

" ONCE MORE UNTO THE BREACH, DEAR FRIENDS, ONCE MORE."

THE days are gone by when the Origin of Romance would be sought for amongst any single people, or in any single series of facts: there was an incessant intercourse kept up between the nations of Europe during the Middle Ages, bound together as they were by one spirit of Chivalry, by one system of Feudality:-Pilgrims and Monks travelling from shrine to shrine and from monastery to monastery— Vassals constantly seeking protection under new lords-Jews and Merchants, whose life was one of incessant wandering, contributed to the general spread of the wild and marvellous; but above all, the roving disposition and habits of the minstrel effected the constant intercourse of ideas and feelings, and the same romance which resounded in the halls of King Alonzo the Wise, might be heard during the long nights of winter around the blazing hearths of the distant Iceland. Hence also that singular pictorial and descriptive power possessed as well by the trouvère as by the Scalld. There is a strange sort of half glimmering light reflected from all the early poetry and literature of the

North, like the faint Aurora of their own winter sky, which, with all its wild accompaniments-the sound of the waves dashing against the rocks, mingled with the wailing of the winds and the cries of the sea birds-the mists flying along the dark hollows of the mountains, and the deep sounding of the innumerable cataracts descending in their wild recesses-is irresistibly brought before us as we turn over the pages of the Egils-saga or the Land-nama-bòk. There is about their literature and their country the magic spell of unbroken antiquity, and in approaching the one or the other it is impossible not to feel as though some mighty power of gramarye had rolled back the mists of ages, and brought once again before us those grim old sea wolves, with their enchanted swords, and their ships built in fairy land. We follow them to the battle field and the forestto the wild sea strand, where the red light of their bale fires is streaming up over the dark rocks, and their fierce cries are re-echoed by the distant howling of the "wolf of the wold," and into the huge hall of rough pine logs, where the mead is poured forth from a hundred shells, and the Scalld is singing the praises of the "Death-giver,”the "joy of heroes," the dark brown sword. They are actually present, so strongly and vividly are they brought before us in the Saga and the Lay-and the mantle of these old bards who filled the halls of King Eric of the bloody axe, has descended worthily, and not in vain, on the Anglo-Norman trouvère, and the Menestril of Queen Alice la Belle. We know that there was a peculiar perception of nature in the Middle Ages, which is as certainly unappreciated in the present day: a perception which, to use the beautiful words of a modern writer, has made every page of Chaucer to "sparkle in the dew of morning-has bathed Spenser in the sylvan shade;" and more or less has visited all those crowned phantoms who hold their stand

!

in the misty porch of English poetry. True, that in those early days no wanderers "in search of the picturesque" inundated the country from one side to the other, yet if we may judge from the romance and the chronicle, even the unlettered knight in his rude "strength" connected feelings of the deepest interest with the wild beauty which spread in every direction around him,-and the legends which cling around their old towers and time-worn halls yet bear witness to the spirit which animated them in