'Twere best to carry him into some wood, If but the means or way I understood."

The giant said, "Then carry him I will,

Since that to carry me he was so slack,To render, as the gods do, good for ill;

But lend a hand to place him on my back." Orlando answered, "If my counsel still

May weigh, Morgante, do not undertake

To lift or carry this dead courser, who

As you have done to him will do to you.

"Take care he don't revenge himself, though dead,
As Nessus did of old beyond all cure;

I don't know if the fact you've heard or read,
But he will make you burst, you may be sure."
"But help him on my back," Morgante said,

"And you shall see what weight I can endure.
In place, my gentle Roland, of this palfrey,
With all the bells, I'd carry yonder belfry."
The abbot said, "The steeple may do well,
But for the bells, you've broken them, I wot."
Morgante answered, "Let them pay in hell

The penalty, who lie dead in yon grot."
And hoisting up the horse from where he fell,

He said, "Now look if I the gout have got,
Orlando, in the legs- or if I have force;"
And then he made two gambols with the horse.

Morgante was like any mountain framed;

So if he did this, 'tis no prodigy: But secretly himself Orlando blamed,

Because he was one of his family;

And fearing that he might be hurt or maimed,
Once more he bade him lay his burthen by:
"Put down, nor bear him further the desert in.»
Morgante said, "I'll carry him for certain.”

He did; and stowed him in some nook away,
And to the abbey then returned with speed.
Orlando said, "Why longer do we stay,

Morgante? here is naught to do indeed."

11903

Translation of Lord Byron.

ALEXANDER SERGYÉEVITCH PUSHKIN

(1799-1837)

BY ISABEL F. HAPGOOD

OREIGNERS who begin their acquaintance with the modern
Russian novelists, the generation of the "sixties," and with

no preliminary knowledge of Russian literature in the last century, will find it difficult to appreciate in due measure the services which Pushkin rendered to both language and literature. Pushkin may be said to have completed the task begun by Lomonosoff: of molding into an exquisite instrument, fitted for every service of poetry and prose, the hitherto unwieldy, uncouth forms of the language. That glory in a measure, therefore, he shares with Lomonosoff. In the realm for which Russian modern literature holds the palm,- simplicity, realism, absolute fidelity to life,-Pushkin was the forerunner of the great men whose names are synonyms for those qualities. In this domain he should share the fame of the acknowledged father of the school, Gogol. He was the first Russian writer to wage battle against the mock classicism of France which then ruled Europe, and against the translations and servile copies of foreign literature to which almost every writer who preceded him had been wholly devoted. He placed Russian literature firmly on Russian soil; utilizing her rich national traditions, sentiments, and life, in a manner which is as full of life and truth as it is of the highest art.

His powers were due possibly to the mixture of blood, added to a richly endowed nature. His early education most assuredly was not adapted to produce anything new, national, or profound. His father was the scion of a noble family, whose ancestors had occupied positions of importance under the father of Peter the Great, in the seventeenth century. His mother was the granddaughter of Abram Hannibal, the famous godchild and favorite of Peter the Great, of whom Pushkin wrote in 'Peter the Great's Arab.' Hannibal was

in reality a negro. He was captured on the shores of Africa, and sent to Constantinople as a slave. The Russian Ambassador bought him and sent him to Peter the Great, who had him baptized. Later on, when Hannibal's brother came to St. Petersburg to ransom him, Peter refused to part with his friend. Peter sent him, at the age of eighteen, to France for his education; and on his return to Russia,