gifted, his vast mind open to every new impression, his attention always keen, and his curiosity insatiable. He was continually learning, not alone from books, but from the conversation of those around him. But something of the spirit of the Middle Ages still remained in the man. His studies were wide and many-sided, rather than profound; his mind delighted in logical subtleties; he often confounded science with superstition, luxury with artistic beauty. The society around him showed that although the new ideas had triumphed in men's minds the victory was scarcely won. But we become conscious of the triumph of the new spirit as we listen to the guests while they discuss the great questions of the day: the scientists weighing their facts, the philologists quoting the poets, while every now and then there breaks in upon the learned talk the sound of merriment, the cheerful spirit of the Renaissance having restored wit to its proper place, wit, too, divested of its former coarseness.
It was under Matthias that printers first came to Hungary. Andrew Hess, coming from Rome, printed, in 1473, and in Roman characters, the book called Budai Krónika, which contained the history of Hungary up to the time of Matthias. And so Hungary forestalled England in the art of printing.
Matthias, like all the rulers of his day, was exceedingly fond of gorgeous festivals and brilliant pageants. He was maître de plaisir as well as statesman. In the fifteenth century Venice was famed throughout the world for its luxury, yet the Venetian ambassador himself was amazed at the pomp of the Hungarian monarch's court. The papal nuncio also, who had seen much grandeur in his own circle, spoke rapturously of
