[Footnote: It has been suggested that Carlyle may have been in this instance a student of Vauvenargues, who in the early years of the much- maligned eighteenth century wrote "Les graudes pensees viennent du coeur."] Passing to Spain, Carlyle salutes Cervantes and the Cid,--calling Don Quixote the "poetry of comedy," "the age of gold in self-mockery,"--pays a more reserved tribute to Calderon, ventures on the assertion that Cortes was "as great as Alexander," and gives a sketch, so graphic that it might serve as a text for Motley's great work, of the way in which the decayed Iberian chivalry, rotten through with the Inquisition, broke itself on the Dutch dykes. After a brief outline of the rise of the German power, which had three avatars--the overwhelming of Rome, the Swiss resistance to Austria, and the Reformation--we have a rough estimate of some of the Reformers. Luther is exalted even over Knox; Erasmus is depreciated, while Calvin and Melanchthon are passed by. The chapter on the Saxons, in which the writer's love of the sea appears in picturesque reference to the old rover kings, is followed by unusually commonplace remarks on earlier English literature, interspersed with some of Carlyle's refrains. The mind is one, and consists not of bundles of faculties at all ... the same features appear in painting, singing, fighting ... when I hear of the distinction between the poet and the thinker, I really see no difference at all.... Bacon sees, Shakespeare sees through,... Milton is altogether sectarian--a Presbyterian one might say--he got his knowledge out of Knox.... Eve is a cold statue.