During the first half of the sixteenth century, the study of ancient literature was uniformly progressive in Germany, France, and England; during the succeeding fifty years much greater excellence was attained. Thanks to the patronage of Francis I., the University of Paris at this time stood in the front rank of philological pursuits. In England the cause of learning was greatly promoted at the accession of Elizabeth to the throne, when the universities began to revive. Not only was good Latin often heard on the banks of the Isis and the Cam, but the sovereign herself and her erudite professors could address each other in classic Greek. From ancient poets, historians, and orators, the new race of scholars derived the principles not only of equal justice, but of equal privileges, and learned to reverence free republics, to abhor tyranny, and sympathize with a Brutus or Timoleon. The Adages of Erasmus created almost mutinous indignation against great national wrongs, and a later period witnessed still better results for the popular good. The effect which was produced by the mixture of the two great races of men, the southern and the northern, is seen in the epical writings of the respective nations. The poem of the Cid was to Spain what the Divina Comedia was to Italy. In the fifteenth century Portuguese literature arose, and, after a brief but beautiful career, expired in the swan-like cry of the Lusiad. Torquato Tasso, the great Italian cotemporary, published his Jerusalem Delivered the year after the death of Camoens.