A history of Italian literature

1 *'i^'t. '^ *^

\

*.,^

§mml\ Hmumitg plrmg

BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME ^
FROM THE

SAGE ENDOWMENT FUND

THE GIFT OF

189X

The original of this book is in
the Cornell University Library.

There are no known copyright restrictions in
the United States on the use of the text.

http://www.archive.org/cletails/cu31924027427933

A HISTORY

OF

ITALIAN LITERATURE

BY

FLORENCE TRAIL

"STrDIES IN CBITICISM. ' MY JOURNAL IN FOKEIGN LAKDS.'
" UNDER THE SECOND BBNAISSANCE. "

VOLUME I.

"Of men the solace, and of gods the everlasting joy.

POLIZIANO.

*-^^..@M^^

c-<-«

VINCENZO CIOCIA

STAMFBBIA ITAI.IANA

85 Centre Street, New York.
1903.

K.^*2>'bS-4'

COPYRIGHT, 1903, BY FLORENCE TRAIL
ALL BiaHTS RESERVED.

TO
THE FEW WHO STILL LOVE LITERATURE.

INTRODUCTION.

The plan of this Histoty groups the writers
into four classes. To those of the £rst impor-
tance I have devoted a biographical sketch in
the text and an analysis at the close of the
chapter. Those of the second class are repre-
sented by a biographical sketch and a translation
in the text. The third class have only the
sketch; and the fourth are mentioned in pas-
sing, or in foot-notes. The chronological group-
ing is unusual, bat it is believed to be natural,
as the overlapping of each period is the tran-
script of the fact. The simple form into which
I have thrown my data and re£ections adapts
the work for a text-book in Colleges and Schools
of every grade, and also commends it as a book
of ready reference to the general public.

As this is, probably, the most voluminous
Literature in existence, my principle of selection
must be stated. I have endeavored to omit all
that does not carry forward the intellectual
thought, or tend to the uni£cation, of the "na-

X INTRODUCTION.

tion." The toil invohedin judicious selection
may be understood when I say, that out of the
37 poets who preceded Dante, I selected 7; out
of the 100 Latin poets of the Age of Leo X, I
chose 1; out of 660 sonneteers, 6; out of 5000
Comedies, 9; out of the 70 poets between 1850
and 1885, 3; etcetera. Scarcely more than 200
writers are characterized in these pages. But
in every case I hare sought to select the re-
presentatives of every school and period.

As no similar review of this brilliant and
fascinating literature has been yet attempted
by an American, 1 have reason to believe my
History will meet a want long felt and recogniz-
ed. My own enjoyment of the task has made it
a charming recreation. Scholars long ago de-
cided that culture was spelled with the Art and
the History of Italy. But it is in her writers
that Italy still boasts her unbroken descent
&.Qm,.Greece and Rome, and other manifesta-
tions of her genius cannot Be und^l stX)uJ'm4ibm^„^^
out a knowledge of Italian Literature.

FREDERICK, MD.

November 16th, 1901.

CONTENTS OF VOL. I.

'3 *<.*

The
Lyric Poets

The
Schoolmen

Italy's
Greatest
Genius

Both Poets

and Men

of Learning

Beligious
Beformer

THE MEDIEVALISTS.

Piero delle Vigne 1249.
Ciullo D'Alcamo 1231.
Guido Guinicelli 1276.
Guittone d'Arezzo 1250-1284.
Btunetto Latini 1300.
Guido Cavalcanti 1250-1301.
Lapo Giani 1260-1328.
St. Anselm 1033-1109.
St. Peter Lombard 1100-1160.
St. Bonaventura 1221-1274.
St. Thomas Aquinas 1227-1274

Dante Alighieri 1265-1321.

Cino da Pistoja 1270-1336.
Francesco Petraroa 1304-1374.
Giovanni Boccaccio 1313-1375.

St. Catherine of Siena 1347-1380.

Page 30— ^

ANALYSES

OF

Most celebrated Writings of this Period.
I.

DANTE THE HEEO OF THOUGHT.
Pabt I. — The Infbeno.
Part II. — The Puegatokio.
Pabt III. — The Pakadiso.

Page 81

XII

CONTENTS OF VOL. I.

II.

PETEARCA'S SERVICES TO LITERATURE.

THE REVIVERS OF LEARNING.

Page 91

Mrst J

Teachers \

Mrst /

Revivers \^

The [

Greek <

Exiles I

T/ie Great, ^ j
Bevivers .'^

The

Learned

Women

Tlie Last
Bevivers

Giovanni da Ravenna 1420.
Manuel Chrysoloras 1396.

Poggio Bracciolini 1380-1459.

Francesco Filelfo 1398-1481.

Cardinal Bessarion 1438.

Giorgios Gemistos Plethon 1355-1450.

Theodores Gaza 1478.

Marsilio Ficino 1433-1499.

Giovanni Pico della Mirandola

1463-1494.
Angelo Poliziano 1454-1494.
Bitisia Gozzadini.
Costanza di Varano.
Antonia Pulci.
Lucrezia Tornabuoni.
Cristina da Pizzano.
Novella d'Andrea.
Alessandra Scala.
Casandra Fidele 1458-1558.
Leon Battista Alberti 1404-1472.
Cristoforo Landino 1424-1504.
Aldo Manutio 1450-1520.

Beligioiis J

Beformer

The

Restorers

of

Italian

Girolamo Savonarola 1452-1498.

Page 111

WRITERS OF THE RENAISSANCE
Part I. — The Dawn.

Lorenzo de' Medici 1448-1492.

Luigi Pulci 1431-1490.

Matteo Maria Boiardo 1434-1494.

Leonardo da Vinci 1519.

Baldassare Castiglione 1472-1529.

Jacopo Sanazzaro 1458-1530.

Pietro Bembo 1470-1547. Page 142

CONTENTS OF VOL. I.

XIII

The
Humorists

Lyric
Poets

Epic Poet

Historians

Novelist

Biographer

Auto-
biographer

Paet II. — The Golden Age.

f Francesco Berni 1490-1535.
1^ Pietro Aretino 1492-1556.

Bernardo Tasso 1493-1569.
Veronica Gambara 1485-1550.
Barbara Torello.
Gaspara Stampa 1523-1554.
Vittoria Colonna 1490-1547.
Michael Angelo 1474-1564.

— Ludovico Ariosto 1474-1533.
Nicoolb Macchiavelli 1469-1527.
Jacopo Nardi 1476-1556.
Francesco Guicciardini 1482-1540.
Filippo Nerli 1485-1536.
Bernardo Segni 1504-1558.
Benedetto Varchi 1502-1565.

— Matteo Bandello 1480-1561.

— Giorgio Vasari 1512-1574.

I Benvenuto Cellini 1500-1571.

Page 218

ANALYSES

OF

Most celebrated Writings.

THE EELIGIOUS POET OF THE BENAIS8ANCE.

Page 226

II.
A STUDY OF AEIOSTO.

III.

Page 235

MACCHIAVELLI AND HIS "PRINCE".

Page 244

XIV CONTENTS OF VOL. I.

Pabt III. — The Afterglow.
HeroiclPoet — Torquato Tasso 1544-1594.
Battista Guarini 1539-1612.

Pastoral
Poet

The
Scientists

Giordano Bruno 1548-1600.
Galileo Galilei 1564-1642.
Lucillio Vanini 1584-1619.
Fra Paolo Sarpi 1552-1623.
Tommaso Campanella 1568-1639.

Page 269

ANALYSES

OF

Most celebrated Writings of this period.
I.

THE CLAIMS OF TASSO.

II.

Page 283

GUAKINI'S DBAMATIC PASTOEAL.

END OF VOL. I.

1200-1400

CHAPTER I.

The Mediaevalists.

The dark clouds of the eleventh century had
rolled away. The Latin language had risen to
life again in union with the native dialects of
Provence, Portugal, Castile, and Normandy,
and each of these was efflorescing in a new and
brilliant literature. Italy alone, of all the south-
ern nations, seemed to play the sluggard, while
party strife and superstitious zeal consumed her
genius.

Suddenly, at the close of the 12th century,
all eyes were turned towards Sicily; for, inspired
by the enthusiasm of the troubadours, and en-
couraged by the example of the brilliant Fre-
derick II, Emperor of Germany and King of the
two Sicilies, men were discovering in that fair
land that they, too, could write in their own
language; and the beautiful era of the Trecento
(as the Italians call the 14-th century) was to
be ushered in not only with the fervor of the
Flagellants, the exquisite creations of Christian
Art and the genesis of the Drama, but with a
school of gifted, polished poets.

Both the language and the literature of

16 HISTORY OF

Italy were formed in a day. In the 13th century
the Emperor Frederick II and his son 'Enzo,
King of Sardinia, wrote love ditties in imitation
of the Provencals in a language that still lives;
and Piero delle Vigne, the able chancellor and
secretary of Frederick, still proves himself a
master -lyrist in a charming sonnet, which in
English reads:

" Since love cannot be seen by human eye,

And sense cannot discern its marked extremes.

How can he its sweet folly well descry

Who of its bare existence never dreams !

But when love makes its own most wondrous sigh

Take up its lordly rule, as well beseems.

Far greater value will it now imply

Than if to human view it gave its gleams.

Attraction of a nature such as this

Is as the iron which draws and is not seen,

But so, draws all the more imperiously.

And this invites me to believe that bliss

Of love exists, will be and e' er has been

Believed in by the people seriously."

Ciullo D'Alcamo represents the plebeian side
of literature in a poem entitled "The Dispute"—
between two lovers, which w^as w^ritten about
1231. While this is without value in itself, the
author is to be remembered as one who deliber-
ately applied to literary purposes that language
w^hich is "like scarlet among colors, as brilliant
as a fgte-day, as resonant as instruments of
victory."

Gvido Guinicelli of Bologna (died in 1276)
is an illustrious name in these early antaals.

ITALIAN LITERATURE 17

Dante not only praises him unreservedly in tlie
26th Canto of the Purgatorio, calling him

" My father, and the father of all who ever used

Sweet and graceful rhymes of love,

Whose sweet sayings /

Will adorn the language as long/s it lasts."

but openly purloins one of Guinicelli's own
lines when he makes Francesca da Rimini say
(Inferno, Canto V),

" Love soon springs up in gentle hearts."

Longfellow^ in his "Poets and Poetry of Eu-
rope" has translated the whole of this exquisite
song of Guinicelli's, which is entitled, "The Na-
ture of Love."

Gaittone d'Arezzo, 1250-1284, is thought
by the critics to have exercised considerable in-
fluence upon the development of the literature,
making it both more subjective and more na-
tional. Dante speaks of him twice (in Cantos
24 and 26 of the Purgatorio), but slightingly,
tho' this may have been from some personal
prejudice connected w^ith his memory. Cantu
does not hesitate to reverse this sentence, and
gives in support of his opinion this Sonnet to
the Virgin, w^hich I translate as literally as pos-
sible :

" Lady of Heav'n, mother all glorious

Of the good Jesus, whose most sacred fate,

To liberate us from the infernal gate,

18 HISTORY OF

Bore Adam's sin away, — victorious ;

Look to what outrage harsh and furious

I am now led by love's most cruel dart,

And, O most Pitiful ! take thou my part,

And draw me from the proud and curious.

Pour in me such a stream of love divine.

To draw my soul to the abode on high.

That thoughts of earthly love may from me fly.

Such remedy to madness we'll assign.

And with such streams these fiercest flames defy.

As goad with goad we know can only vie."

Branetto Latini of Florence was one of the
most celebrated authors of the 13th century,
and is the forerunner of Dante, not only in learn-
ing and as his preceptor, but in the mechanical
construction of his poem. This was entitled
"II Tesoretto," i. e. "The Little Treasure," and,
as an allegory, full of learning and w^ithamoral
end in view, it may have suggested some feat-
ures of the Divine Comedy. Brunetto's "Tresor,"
which was written in French, seems to be an
attempt at philosophizing, rather than a philos-
ophical work of any merit.

Gaido Caralcanti, 1250-1301, among the
poets of Dante's circle is "the first in order, the
first in power," and the one whom Dante him-
self styles his "first friend." Of a very ancient,
rich and noble family, of great personal beauty
and high intellectual attainments, his fate was,
yet, strangely unhappy. He seems to have been
pursued by envy and persecution, and taking a
prominent political part in the affairs of Flor-

ITALIAN LITERATURE 19

ence, it became Dante's duty, as chief of the
Priori in 1300, to banish him from the city. He
returned from the exile with a fever, of which he
died. Even his works have perished with him,
being destroyed in a great fire instigated by his
enemies in 1304. He was greatly admired by
his literary contemporaries, who speak of hirn
as "a philosopher," "deeply versed in many
things, "devoted to studj^ "of a great spirit,"
and Dante in the Purgatorio, Canto XI, places
him above Guido Guinicelli. Though his learned
treatises were destroyed, many of his poems
have been handed down to us, and though most
of these are on the well-worn theme of love, they
exhibit an individuality, a subtlety of thought
and a command of language which go far to
sustain the reputation of his genius. The stu-
dent will find the entire collection of these beau-
tifully translated in Dante Gabriel Rossetti's
"Early Italian Poets." "A Song of Fortune,"
"A Dispute with Death;" "In Exile atSarzana;"
"To Pope Boniface VIII;" "A Rapture concern-
ing my Lady" are some of the titles.

Lapo Giani, another poet of Tuscan lineage,
shows us that "the genius of Italian Literature
is rocked on the restless waves of the Florentine
democracy." Nothing seems to be known of
his life or personality except that he was the
friend of Dante and Guido Cavalcanti. And in

20 HISTORY OF

his verses he resists Provengal influences and
exhibits a spontaneity which entitled him to be
placed in this celebrated circle. His madrigal
on "What Love shall provide for me," and a
ballad entitled "A Message for my Lady" are
translated by Rossetti.

While these early poets often prove them-
selves masters of an elegant and polished style
and of sweet and pleasing sentiments, in no
sense can they be said to prepare thew^ay for the
great Dante. The new-born language might
have remained a pretty plaything, if it had not
been for the intellectual giant who w^as to pour
into it his very life-blood and bend it to express
his deepest cogitations. It is well for us to
know something of Dante's predecessors in lit-
erature that we may realize his independence.
Like all men of great genius, he was not evolved
by the spirit of the age.

But, on the other hand, we cannot shut our
eyes to the fact that to his predecessors in learn-
ing Dante pays continual homage; and it is not
possible to pass over the great Schoolmen, some
of the greatest of whom were Italians. Of these
only we shall inquire here, for though they never
dreamed of writing in anything but Latin, and
lived and died in foreign countries, we cannot
afford to forget that Italy produced them.

St, Anselm, 1033-1109, was born at Aosta

ITALIAN LITERATURE 21

in Piedmont and descended from a noble fam-
ily. History tells us how, as Abbot of the Mon-
astery of Bee in Normandy, he made it the first
seat of learning in Europe; how England de-
lights to claim him as one of the greatest Arch-
bishops of Canterbury she has ever known; how
in his threatened excommunication of King
Henry I, he placed the Papacy under lasting
obligations to him; and, finally, that as a Scho-
lastic he was the originator of the science of
Ontology, and as the author of the treatise Cur
Deus Homo still influences the faith of Christ-
endom.

Peter Lombard, 1100-1160, was born at
Novara, then reckoned in Lombardy. Rising
from step to step as an ecclesiastic, he was made
Bishop of Paris, but he will always be best
known as the Master of the Sentences. This
was a compilation of aphorisms which became
a universal text-book in the European Uni-
versities, and was one of the bulwarks of Schol-
asticism.

St. Bonaventura, 1221-1274, has always
been the ecclesiastical name given to John of Fi-
danza, wo was born at Bagnarea in the Papal
States. He lectured at the University of Paris
upon the Sentences, was made General of the
Franciscan order, and received the title of
"Doctor Seraphicus," writing many sermons

22 HISTORY OF

and meditations and taking an original stand
as an ardent believer in the mysticism of Plato.

St. Thomas Aquinas, 1227-1274, is one of
the few great men whose whole lives excite our
warmest admiration. Of noble blood, he was
born at the hereditary castle in the territories of
Naples. He has been called "the spirit of Schol-
asticism incarnate," and as the author of the
Summa Tbeologias, i. e. the Summary of all
known Science, was the arbiter of European
learning for three centuries. His most bril-
liant disciple was Dante, who in the Third Part
of the Divine Comedy expounds the Philosophy
of Aquinas in verse, and endows it w^ith an
enviable immortality.

Dante Alighieri, the greatest of all the Ital-
ians, was born in Florence in 1265, of an aris-
tocratic, but not a noble, family. He fell upon
the evil days of the Guelfs and Ghibellines, and
to understand his life one must understand the
History of the times. He belonged at first to
the Guelf or Papal party, and w^hen this w^as
afterwards divided into the Neri and the Bian-
chi, Dante took the part of theBianchi. In 1289
he fought at Campaldino against the Ghibel-
lines of Arezzo, and in 1290 against the Pisans,
and, in 1300 being made Chief Magistrate of
the republic, he was one of the Guelf ambas-
sadors to Pope Boniface VIII.

ITALIAN LITERATURE 23

-4

The fierce contentions of those times fostered
the spirit of patriotism, and Dante, ardent and
enthusiastic in everything that he undertook,
became a martyr to his civic convictions. He
had married Gemma dei Donati, and this
brought him into personal conflict with one of
the most powerful politicians of the day, the
bold.bad Corso di Donati. The faction to which
Corso belonged gained the upperhand , and
while Dante was absent on another embassy to
Pope Boniface in 1302, the sentences of exile and
confiscation of property were passed against
him.

He had been an ardent student from early
childhood, and while he had completed some of
his writings before this time, it was now that
he abandoned himself to the workings of his
marvelous imagination, and while he wandered
in exile, entertained by one friend after another,
he found consolation in pouring out his whole
soul in the loftiest strains of poetry, the most
bitter diatribes of history, the profound reflect-
ions of philosophy and the aspirations of religion-
Dante himself entitled this work the Comedy,| 7
because it begins sadly and ends happily, and'
because he believed the tragic style reserved for
Virgil; but his compatriots at once prefixed the
word "Divine," and the name signalizes a work
unlike any other. Hallam says Dante is the

24 HISTORY OF

most unquestionably original of all writers.
But to transcribe even a small portion of what
has been said of him by learned men of all
countries would be to make a book in itself. A
critical and analytical review of the Three Parts
of the Divine Comedy will be found on Pages
35-81. In this biographical sketch it must suf-
fice to point out the chief events of his life.

Dante's mind was too original to bind itself
down to any party: seeing that the Guelfs, in-
fluenced by France, were not true to the re-
public, his sympathies passed over to the Ghibel-
lines, and he joined them in attempting to return
honorably to Florence. But sentence after sent-
ence was passed against him, and for nineteen
years he remained an exile, that his, until death
itself released him.

His w^ife, and his children (of whom there
were two sons and three daughters) did not fol-
low him into exile. But this was hardly to be
expected in that stormy and unsettled age,v\rhen
powerful relatives were at hand to protect them
in the city, and there is no reason to suppose
from this or any other circumstance that his
domestic life was anything but peaceful and
happy.

In his wanderings Dante went to Paris, Hol-
land, and even as far as Oxford; and, returning
to Italy found shelter in Universities, in Mon-

ITALIAN LITERATURE 25

asteries and in the lordly houses of the Malespi-
ni and the Scaligeri, and finally with Guido da
Polenta in Ravenna, where he died in 1321.

The Vita Nuova, or New Life, probably fin-
ished in 1307, is the history of his love for Bea-
trice, the daughter of Folco Portinari and the
wife of Simone de' Bardi, whom he never knew
personally. Her exquisite purity and early
death touched the imagination of the poet and
he has also immortalized her in the " Divina
Commedia."

II Convito, or The Banquet, written between
1290 and 1300, consists of Songs and Com-
mentaries, and throws much light on the history
and learning of the times, but remains in an un-
finished state.

The Latin treatises, De Monarchia, and De
Vulgari Bloquio, are works of great learning
addressed exclusively to the scholars and think-
ers of the Middle Ages.

Besides these there are a number of unclas-
sified Sonnets, some very valuable inciters, and a
thesis De Aqua et Terra, maintained at Man-
tua a short time before the Poet's death.

But all his other writings combined are
eclipsed and cast into oblivion by the "Divine
Comedy." It is in this incomparable and im-
mortal Poem that Dante appears as the creator
of the Italian language, the originator of Ital-

26 HISTORY OF

ian Literature, the protagonist of the Drama he
depicts, the revealer of new worlds. His posi-
tion in the development of Thought and the
History of Literature cannot be understood by
one who has not read this work, and foreigners
master Italian in order to read this one book,
for it cannot be understood in a translation.
Twelve hundred Commentaries upon it have
been written in Italy alone, and probably al-
most an equal number by the scholars of other
nations, the Germans taking the lead in mod-
em times both in number and ability.

Upon every page, every line, of the Poem is
stamped the strong, intense individuality of the
writer; but its merit consists less in this than in
the fact that it reveals a personality that is
worth revealing. Of all great men Dante is,
perhaps, the most lovable. For while he stands
before us as one to whom nothing human is a
matter of indifference, his sins are of the most
intensely spiritual character, such as are pos-
sible only to the highest natures, his life itself
was pure and blameless, his very faults reveal
his virtues, his sorrows vouch for his sincerity,
and in his devout submission to his cruel fate he
has expiated every charge that men could bring
against him.

Cino da Pistoja, 1270-1336, bridges the in-
terval between Dante and Petrarca, and to fill

ITALIAN LITERATURE 27

this gap worthily is no slight honor. He is call-
ed the lawyer-poet, having excelled as much in
his Commentaries on the Code as in the lighter
vein of amorous poetry. Exiled from Florence
as a Ghibelline, he seems to have cast in his lot
with the Vergiolese family, who took refuge in
some isolated, inaccessible castle, and his Son-
nets immortalize the beautiful Selvaggia, whose
early death while in exile adds a pathos to the
story. In his Sonnet on the Grave of Selvaggia
Vergiolese, he speaks of her as

" Cast out upon the steep path of the mountains,
Where Death has shut her in between hard stones."

But his Sonnet on "Compensation in Death''
atones for this bitterness, and his exquisite
Canzone to Dante on the Death of Beatrice Por-
tinari can never be forgotten. In such lines as

" God hath her with Himself eternally,
Yet she inhabits every hour with thee."

" Thy spirit bears her back upon the wing,
Which often in those ways is journeying."

we see more than an intellectual elevation.

As the friend of Dante and admired by Pe-
trarca, and as a lecturer and teacher at several
of the Italian Universities, Cino is one of the
most interesting figures of this early period.

Francesco Petrarca (so well known to all
English-speaking people as Petrarch) was born

28 HISTORY OF

at Arezzo in 1304, his father having been ban-
ished from Florence at the same time that
Dante was exiled. Among the diflferent places to
which the homeless family wandered was Avi-
gnon in France, and it was there that Petrarch
at the age of twenty-three saw and loved Ma-
dame Laura de Sade. Though young, he had
lived long enough to fall into immoral habits.
The sight and acquaintance of this beautiful
woman effected one of those thorough revolu-
tions in his character which can be called noth-
ing less than a regeneration. This object of his
life-long affection was not only a married wom-
an, but continued to live in peace and happiness
with her husband, and became the mother of
eleven children. It is not known that she made
any response to Petrarch's passion; but it is
certain that no blame is to be attached to her
spotless character, which, in an age of universal
corruption, deserved the adulation offered by
the poet.

Though destined to the study of the Law in
order to retrieve the family fortunes, Petrarch
openly elected the career of scholar and poet.
He was the first person in Europe to undertake
the study of the Greek and Latin languages for
literary purposes. Studying Greek under a Ca-
labrian named Barlaam, he did not make much
progress; but in Latin he became a model writer.

ITALIAN LITERATURE 29

The warm friendship and appreciation of poten-
tates and princes was accorded him throughout
his life. Robert, king of Naples (who said he
would rather be without a diadem than without
literature), the Colonna family, Pope Clement VI,
the Carraras and others revered his genius and
delighted to do him homage. He had bought
a farm at Vaucluse near Avignon and had com-
menced to write his Latin Epic "Africa" when
he was invited by both Rome and Paris to ac-
cept public recognition as a poet at the hands
of the State. He chose Rome, and his corona-
tion in the capitol there, April 8th, 1341, was
the most brilliant tribute genius has ever re-
ceived. Petrarch's passion for antiquity led him
to sympathize with Cola di Rienzi in his attempt
to revive the Roman Republic. But though
sadly disappointed in his political aspirations,
as poet and man of letters he was effecting a
mighty revolution in European taste and edu-
cation. Traveling extensively and being sent on
important diplomatic missions, he always had
it at heart to unearth the great writings of the
ancients, and to him the world owes Cicero's
Familiar Letters and the "Institutes" ofQuin-
tilian; the finding of which, however, would not
have been enough to give the world a distinct
literary impulse had it not been for the rare
intellectual enthusiasm which accompanied it.

30 HISTORY OF

Besides the Epic poem entitled "Africa"
which is in praise of Scipio Africanus, Petrarch's
Italian poems consist of Sonnets during the life
and after the death of Laura; "Songs", and
"The Triumphs", while he left many treatises,
essays and letters in Latin prose. After seventy
years of wonderful good fortune and success, he
died at Arqua in 1374, bequeathing the w^orld
a priceless treasure in his name and influence.

Giovanni Boccaccio, the son of a merchant
of Certaldo, was born in Paris in 1313, and
shares w^ith Dante and Petrarca in the honor of
being one of the founders of modern European
Literature. To his vigorous and original pen
w^e owe Italian Prose. For while there had
been chronicles and records in the ne-w lan-
guage, there had been nothing in this form
that could be called literature.

Born under unfavorable circumstances, and
leading a life unadorned by private virtue, Boc-
caccio's only claim upon the regard of posterity
is the intellectual impetus he gave his language
and his country. A marked event in the history
of Europe was the cordial reception he gave the
great Greek scholar, Leontius Pilatus, under
whose instruction he sought to translate the
Iliad into Latin. This dream continued to be
cherished by all the Revivers of Learning, until
it was finally realized by Poliziano.

ITALIAN LITERATURE 31

Boccaccio seems to have spent his life be-
tween the court of Naples and the Republic of
Florence, known and honored every-where as a
professional man of letters, and intrusted with
diplomatic missions in virtue of his profession.
When the Florentines resolved to restore Pe-
trarch's estates Boccaccio was chosen to bear
the message to the poet, then living in Padua,
and still later, when "repentant Florence" esta-
blished a University professorship for the expla-
nation and illustration of Dante, Boccaccio was
called to this post of honor and acquitted him-
self with glory. His ardent admiration for
Dante was, indeed, a redeeming feature in his
character. Petrarch has been pronounced en-
vious and jealous of the fame of Dante, and, at
all events, left no praises or enconiums of him
in his writings; while Boccaccio left Commenta-
ries on the first seventeen cantos' of the "Infer-
no", a "Life of Dante" and a beautiful Sonnet
in his praise.

An indefatigable student, a devout lover of
classical learning, zealous for the interests of
Italy and the new tongue, Boccaccio was a most
prolific writer both in verse and prose, in Latin
and in Italian. "The Genealogy of the Gods ",
the "Theseid", an epic poem in the ottava rima,
which he was the first to apply to this form;
"The Amorous Vision", "Filocopo", "Filostra-

32 HISTORY OF

to" etc. are the works which made him famous
in his own day. And, of course, we of Anglo-
Saxon lineage know how boldly old Chaucer
stole from Boccaccio's store-house, and what a
spell the prestige of his name and his themes
wields throughout all English Literature. Boc-
cacio's themes can be traced through Chaucer
and Dryden down to Tennyson; so that he
stands as inspirer and model of representives in
English verse.

The "Theseid" relates the story of Palamon
and Arcite; Chaucer and Dryden simply repro-
duce it, while Tennyson reflects it in the "Last
Tournament." Boccaccio wrote "De Claris Mu-
lieribus," Chaucer wrote "The Legend of Good
Women," Tennyson wrote the "Dream of Fair
Women."

But the only Italian work which later agts
ever mention, and the one in which the capaci-
ties of Italian prose are set forth for all time is
the Decamerone or the "Tales of the Ten Days".
Founded upon the historical event of the Plague
in 1348, of which a fine account is given as a
preface, the "Tales" claim to be told by ten
friends, w^ho take refuge in a villa near Florence
and seek to divert themselves in this way. In
style vivacious and brilliant, it is most deplora-
ble that the subject matter of these "Tales" has
made it necessary for the literary w^orld to rele-

ITALIAN LITERATURE 33

gate them to an ignominious obscurity. Boc-
caccio is now known simply as the author of a
book which cannot be read; too immoral to be
fairly criticised ; too offensive for vituperation.
The only endurable "Tales" are those of "Lisa's
love for King Alphonso", and "The Marquis of
Saluzzo and "Griselda". George Eliot has fur-
nished us with a pretty poem from the former,
w^hile E. Blair Leighton has given us an exqui-
site painting of Lisa soothed by Minuccio's mu-
sic, and Leslie has endeavored to immortalize
that exasperating person known as "Patient
Griselda",

It is refreshing to find that Boccaccio did
not consider the "Decameron" worthy of him,
and his best biographers assure us that he re-
pented of w^riting it and reformed his life at the
suggestion of one of the monks he had so vili-
fied. To pass from the themes of Dante and Pe-
trarch to those of Boccaccio is a painful expe-
rience, and the lack of sequence in Italian Lite-
rature which manifests itself here is only too
sad a presage of its subsequent development.
Boccaccio's death occured while living in retire-
ment at Certaldo in 1375, when he was 62.

In turning from Boccaccio to Saint Cather-
ine oi Siena (134-7-1388) we see the manysided-
ness, the completeness, of the Italian genius.
This marvelous woman, whose real name was-

34 HISTORY OF

Caterina Benincasa, was not unworthy of the
devout admiration and devotion she has receiv-
ed. Springing from an humble family, the
force of her own genius and her exalted piety
raised her above crowned heads. Her letters to
clergy, condottieri, popes and kings were so pow-
erful, that she was recognized as an ambassa-
dress and mediator in the political crises of that
stormy period. The Florentines chose her as
their ambassadress to Pope Gregory XI , by
whom they had been excommunicated. Thor-
oughly successful in this mission, she was the
only person in all Europe who could persuade
Gregory XI to leave Avignon and return to
Rome! Urban VI appointed her ambassadress to
Joanna I of Naples. The Italians possess 383
Letters from the pen of this remarkable woman,
and from the specimens that I have read it is
easy to see that she possessed wonderful endow^-
ments both of mind and heart. All Art Stu-
dents are, of course, familiar with the glorious
paintings which represent St. Catherine of
Siena. That of Fra Bartolomeo in the Louvre
is peculiarly beautiful.

Dante, the "Hero of Thought"
Part I. — The Inferno.

If Dante "felt exalted in his own being"
when, on the "green -enameled plain" surround-
ing Dis, he was permitted to hold intercourse
with the great poets of antiquity, how much
more must we feel our exaltation when we find
ourselves in the august presence of the great
Dante! Preeminently the poet of exalted thought
and feeling, in journeying with him w^e are
compelled to realize the dignity of our own
being; and however humble our sphere of
thought may have been hitherto, we are hence-
forth lifted up to the contemplation of life's
sublimest mysteries.

Dante's hold upon the centuries is to be ac-
counted for by the consummate skill with which
he depicts man as a free, that is, a moral agent;
and through all the gloom of the hell intow^hich
he plunges us, w^e see the scintillations of that
Divine spark which makes man truly great,
without which his sufferings have little or no
significance, and with which his agony is infinite.

36 HISTORY OF

The First Canto of the "Inferno" initiates
us into the mysteries of the Allegory which is
to run thro' the great Poem like a thread of
gold in the woof of a splendid piece of tapestry.
In the middle of his life, — at the age of 35 — in
A. D. 1300 the Poet finds himself lost in a dark
and terrible forest, that is, in the moral and po-
litical disorder of Italy, at that time darkened
and confused by the strifes of Guelfs and Ghibel-
lines. He attempts to ascend a mountain, gilded
at its summit by the rising sun, that is, to find
the principles of moral and political order, on
which shine the rays of rectitude and justice.
But he is opposed in these efforts first by a pan-
ther, the spotted skin and quick movements of
which represent envious Florence; then by a
lion, signifying proud France, and, more espe-
cially, Charles de Valois, brother of Philippe le
Bel, invited by the Guelf or Papal party to in-
vade Italy and crush the Ghibellines; and lastly
by a she - wolf, the Roman curia, whose supreme
characteristic is avarice. In utter despair, Dan-
te, or man with his natural reason alone, must
abandon this undertaking, does not knowledge,
or wisdom, in the person of Virgil, come to his
rescue. The Latin Poet, who is also the symbol
of political science, as having been born under
the universal monarchy established by Julius
Caesar, assures Dante that he must choose an-

ITALIAN LITERATURE 37

other path up the mountain, for the beast will
not permit anyone to pass this point, and such
will continue to be the state of affairs until the
wolf is killed by a greyhound, that is, a Ghibel
line commander, probably the Emperor himself,
who will bring peace and safety to distracted
Italy.

In the second Canto we find that Virgil, or
the knowledge of human things, cannot guide
our hero to the end of his journey. Once, pos-
sibly twice, in early youth he had seen Beatrice
Portinari, and, in spite of his own marriage and
most commonplace domestic history, she had
ever remained his ideal of ethereal loveliness. He
says, himself, that his great admiration for her
made him a poet and compelled him to give
himself up to study. Now it is Beatrice who is
to symbolize the knowledge of Divine things,
without which man cannot understand his own
being or destiny. And in accordance with the
perfect symmetry of his conceptions, the Poet
shows us that as three evil powers had prevent-
ed his search for truth, so three heavenly pow-
ers come to his aid. The Gentle Lady, symbol
of Divine Mercy, and Lucia, or Illuminating
Grace, are to aid Theological Science (Beatrice)
in this stupendous undertaking.

Thus Dante's political questionings are met
by moral and religious answers. Absorbed as

38 HISTORY OF

he is in the aifairs of his age, he perceives that he
is only a representative of the human race in the
long and laborious pilgrimage marked out for
it. The problems of his once loved Florence are
only the problems of his own being and those
of human destiny. All turn upon the fact that
man has the choice of good or evil. But he can-
not satisfy himself of the full significance of this
until he has meditated upon every personality
which has once arrested his attention. In the
marvelous imagination of the Poet the pains of
punishment, the griefs of expiation, the rewards
of virtue are transfigured into the Divine
Comedy.

As the two Poets enter the Inferno (Canto
III) Dante reads the terrifying inscription on
its portal :

" Thro' me you enter the city of woe,
Within my pale eternal grief to prove,
Thro' me among the lost you are to go.
Justice my lofty Maker erst did move.
And Power Divine my fashioner became,
Supremest Wisdom and Primeval Love.

And things created found me still the same

I was before, eternally I last :

Who enters here hopeless himself must name."

Before they reach the river Acheron, over
which Charon conveys the wicked to the Infer-
no proper, they come in contact with the Neu-
tral. Human spirits who were worthy neither
of infamy nor praise here mingle with the An-

ITALIAN LITERATURE 39

gels who were neither faithful nor rebellious.
Their condition is one of such hopeless wretched-
ness that "they envy every other fate". "The
w^orld does not retain any memory of them".
Here Dante recognizes Pietro Morone, one of
his contemporaries, w^ho was elected Pope un-
der the name of Celestine V, but having been
induced to renounce the Papacy, he gave place
to Boniface VIII, so detested by Dante and the
Ghibellines, and for this pusillanimity the Poet
here condemns him openly. At the sight of the
agony of those whom Charon gathers in his
boat Dante swoons, while " the tearful earth "
trembles and the heavens send forth flashes of
red light.

Having arrived in Limbo, i, e, on the con-
fines of the Inferno, there are found the Virtuous
Heathen and the Unbaptized. It was in this
region, according to the Poet, that Jesus Christ
descended and liberated Adam, Abel, Noah, Mo-
ses, "the obedient patriarch Abraham", king
David, Israel with his father and his sons, and
with Rachel, "for whom he did so much". But
he finds here Hector, ^neas, Caesar, "with the
eyes of a griffin", the Brutus who killed Tar-
C[.uiivand the Roman matrons, Lucrezia, Julia,
Martia and Cornelia. And apart from all others
he sees the royal -hearted Saladin, the separa-
tioiusignifying his preeminence as a Mahometan.

40 HISTORY OF

The "master of those who know', (as Aristotle
is characterized), Socrates, Plato, Democritus,
"who made the world depend on chance", Dio-
genes, Anaxagoras, Thales, Empedocles, Hera-
clitus, Cicero, Livy and "moral Seneca", the
great Arabians, Avicenna and Averroes, dwell
in the quiet air of this first circle.

On the threshhold of the second circle Mi-
nos sits to judge the souls and assign their par-
ticular punishment, and within are found the
Adulterers, whom Dante expressly designates
the least of the criminals to be described. Among
this company we find Semiramis, Dido, Cleopa-
tra, Helen, Achilles, Paris, Tristram, Paolo Ma-
latesta, and Francesca da Rimini, — the daugh-
ter of Dante's own devoted friend, Guido da
Polenta. All of these are continually tossed
about and tormented by a terrible whirlwind,
and Dante is particularly anxious to speak to

" Those two who go together,

And seem to be so light to the wind"

He entreats them, and

" As doves moved by desire

With strong and open wings to the sweet nest

Fly, borne by their breathing will",

Francesca and Paolo draw^ near to him. Their
story is too well known for comment. Many
artists have represented them, but none more
wondrously than Gustave Dor4, who has paint-
ed them in the very act of being "swept by the

ITALIAN LITERATURE 41

wind", Tennyson has paraphrased Dante's ex-
quisite

" Nessun magglor dolore
Che rioordarsl del tempo felice
Nella miseria."

in the well know^n lines :

" Comfort! comfort scorned of devils!
This is truth the Poet sings,
That a sorrow's crown of sorrow
Is remembering happier things."

The third circle shows us the Gluttons; for
not only does the supernatural vividness of
Dante's vision compel us to believe in the real-
ity of his journey, but we make it with him.
Here Dante recognizes Ciaco, to us an obscure
citizen of Florence, but to Dante a contemporary
w^ith whom he is eager to converse about the
envious city; and in the few words exchanged
vsre see how^ grievously the great exile's heart
bleeds for his ungrateful birthplace.

He goes on, murmuring,

" Ah justice of God! who (if not thou) heaps up
Such new travails and pains as I saw?
And why does our guilt thus destroy us? "

The Prodigal and the Avaricious occupy the

fourth circle, and Dante expects to recognize

some among the popes and cardinals over whom

avarice had dominion. But Virgil tells him he

cherishes a vain thought in this, for

" The Ignoble life which made them vile
To every understanding makes them dark."

42 HISTORY OF

They have lost their identity and are mere im-
personations of these vices, insomuch that when
their bodies rise at the last day, it will be with
closed fists and shaven locks.

Dante wishes to know what Fortune is, and
in a wonderfully beautiful passage Virgil de-
scribes her as a far-off, celestial Intelligence,
utterly impenetrable to human reason.

— " Her permutations have no truce,
Necessity compels her to be quick."

Phlegias rows the two Poets across the
marshy Styx, and under the walls of Dis they
meet those whom Anger overcame. Filippo Ar-
genti, a contemporary Florentine, is recognized
by Dante, despite the filth in which he wallows.
Angrily he asks:

" Who art thou, then, that com'st before the time?

And I reply : If now I come, yet do I not remain.

But who art thou, who art become so vile?

He says : Thou seest I am one who weeps.

And I to him : With weeping and with struggling,

Accursed spirit, do thou still remain.

Since thou art known, all filthy as thou art."

Virgil thrusts Filippo off, then kisses and em-
braces Dante and says

" O nobly-scornful soul!
Blessed was she in whom thou wast eHclosedL"

At last, before the walls of Dis, rebellious
Angels hurl curses at the invaders, and the
eternal fire, the iron wallSj, the angry scorn

ITALIAN LITERATURE 43

unnerve our Poet and in anguish he cries out,

" O my dear Leader,
Leave me not so undone.
If going further is denied us,
Let us retrace our steps together quickly. "

But defended by Virgil from the three Furies

and Medusa on the towers of Dis, and led thro'

the gate by a Celestial Messenger, Dante makes

his way among the Heresiarchs and the Un-

beUeving, who "issue lamentable moans" from

sepulchres of flame. Asking Virgil (Canto X) if

it is possible to see any of those in the sepulchres,

a voice exclaims:

" Tuscan, who through the city of Are

Goest alive, speaking so bravely.

Let it please thee to tarry a while.

Thy language bewrayeth thee here

As one who was born of that noble land

To which, perhaps, I once gave grief and pain."

It was the voice of the great Farinata degli
Uberti, who, single-handed and with Roman
firmness, had withstood the proposition to de-
stroy Florence. Dante says "he raised his head
and breast out of his tomb, as tho' he held all
Hell in grand contempt," and does justice to the
magnanimous citizen in relating his whole
history, while, as an unbeliever, he condemns
him to these torments.

Then rose to sight a shade

" Uncovered only to the chin :

Around he looked to see whom I had with me.

— ■'■ My son, where is he? why not with thee?

44 HISTORY OF

And I to him : Not of myself I come.
He who waits there here leads me,
Perhaps your Guido had him in disdain."

Suddenly rising, he cries out "How sayest thou?

Had? Does he then no more live?
Nor on his eyes the sweet light shine?"

Guido Cavalcanti, the first of Dante's friends
and himself a lyric poet of celebrity, was the son
for whom his father here inquires. But Dante
delays his answer, and the w^retched father falls
back in his tomb to rise no more.

Plunging from one abyss to another, we find
all the remaining circles filled with the Violent,
that is, those who by force or fraud have com-
mitted crimes against God, nature and man.
Goaded by the arrows of the centaurs in a river
of boiling blood, the Tyrants, Homicides and
Robbers find their place; and here are Alexander,
and "cruel Dionysius, who made Sicily have dol-
orous years;" and that brow which has such
raven hair is Ezzolino's, and that other, which
is white, Obizzo d'Este; Attila, "who was a flail
on the earth," and the provincial robbers, the
Rinieri, bringing up the rear. But of all the
condemned none have a more pitiable fate than
the Suicides in the next round. Changed into
gnarled and savage plants, the Harpies feed on
them, and never again can they resume the bod-
ies that they once cast from them. Pier delle
Yigne, a poet, and chancellor and favorite of

ITALIAN LITERATURE 45

Frederick II, Emperor, and King of Sicily, Lano,
a Sienese, and Jacopo da Sant' Andrea, a Pa-
duan, are recognized and questioned.

With the greatest care avoiding the burning
sand of the next circle, where dilated flakes of
fire are perpetually falling on those who w^ere
violent against God, the Poets speak to Ca-
paneus, one of the seven kings of Thebes, who is
chiefly punished "in that his pride lives still un-
quenched," and w^hen they comeupon the margin
of the plain, Dante is accosted by Brunetto La-
tini, his learned and celebrated teacher. It is
painful to find him among those who did violence
to nature, but little is said of his sin or its pun-
ishment, for the two lovers of learning rush at
each other to revive their common reminiscences,
and in their fascinating conversation we have
not only inestimable revelations of Dante's per-
sonality, but some of the most beautiful lines
that were ever penned. After Dante tells him
how he had lost his way, Brunetto saj'^s:

" If thou follow thy star
Thou canst not fail of a glorious port,
If rightly I divined in life on earth,
And if I had not died before the time —
Since Heaven granted thee so much —
I should have given thee comfort in the work."

He tells Dante it is no wonder that the malign
people of ancient Fiesole should do him evil for
his good, for there could never be any harmony

46 HISTORY OF

between their baseness and his sweet and lofty
soul. Then Dante revives the recollection of
Brunetto's instruction, — that he taught him
how man may achieve immortality; and, finally,
the very climax of all that Dante feels and is
finds expression in the noble lines:

" I wish that I might make it clear to you,

I stand prepared for any fate

While I have no rebuke from conscience. "

Striking and touching, too, are the con-
versations which foUow^ when Dante meets his
fellow^-patriots, Guidoguerra, Aldobrandi and
Rusticucci, (Canto XYI) who still love the un-
happy city and adjure the poet to "speak of
them among mankind."

But hardly have they issued from this circle
when the terrific monster, Fraud, "who passes
mountains, breaks down v^ralls and spears, and
vrith his filth taints all the w^orld," comes
"swimming up thro' gross and murky air." The
Procurers and the Adulators are among the first
of his devotees, then the Simoniacs and the Di-
viners, and we can now only note the facts that
Pope Nicholas III is the most prominent person
among the Simoniacs, and that the punishment
of the Diviners — to have their necks twisted
around, so that "they who once too far before
them wished to see, now backward look" —
wrings such grief from Dante that Virgil harshly

ITALIAN LITERATURB 47

rebukes him. Strengthened by the stern reflec-
tions of his mentor, all the irony, all the bit-
terness of the ulcerated heart breaks forth upon
the Barterers and Peculators, selling public of-
fices for private gain. It -would seem, indeed, as
tho' the demons here had full sway. They laugh
and grin and curse and wrestle as they fly here
and there to pitchfork the wretched criminals
who attempt to escape from the lake of boil-
ing tar.

The "College of the mourning Hypocrites"
comes next, and here the once "joyous Friars"
w^ear hooded cloaks of gold and bonnets gleam-
ing bright with orange hue, w^hich are dazzling
to view^, but leaden all within, so that being
compelled to pace up and down, toil, weariness
and faintness makes mighty grief course down
their cheeks. And lying on the ground, extended
on a transverse cross, in banishment eternal, we
suddenly here come upon him who counseled the
Pharisees that "it were fitting for one man to
suflfer for the people." The suddennes, the abject
degradation (for all who pass this w^ay walk
over him), the absence of his name, Virgil's hor-
ror and amazement, all go to make up a picture,
which, if awful, is, nevertheless, sublime.

Utterly exhausted in his efforts to grapple
the steep crags of these regions, Dante sits down
to get his breath.

48 HISTORY OF

" Now suits it that thou shake off sloth,
The Master says : lying on feathery couch,
Or under coverlet never brings fame ;
Without which he who here consumes his life.
Such vestige of himself on earth must leave
As smoke in air, or foam upon the wave."

And nerved by all the noble hopes he cher-
ishes for his great work, our hero bravely rises
and bends him to the task. It is that of behold-
ing the Thieves changed into serpents and anon
changed back again to men, the transmutation
going on perpetually, so that they are neither
one nor double. One shrinks from this revolting
recital, and can hardly doubt that Dante shrank
from giving it. Vanni Fucci, from Tuscany, here
"rends" Dante's heart by foretelling the defeat
of the Bianchi. Truly, as Dante says in bitterest
irony, the fame of Florence reigns in Hell. His
magnificent hatred of all that is false finds vent
in clothing the Fraudulent Counselors "in con-
fining fire," so that each one simply seems to be
a Flame. Ulysses and Diomed are joined to-
gether, "hasting to vengeance as erewhile to
wrath." Virgil, who in the world had "poured
forth lofty strains" about them, takes it upon
himself to question them, and some memorable
lines are to be found in the replies of Ulysses
(Canto XXYI), characterizing himself, as he
does, as one in whom nothing could overcome
the zeal he had "to explore the world and search

ITALIAN LITERATURE 49

the ways of life, man's evil and his virtue:" and,
again, describing how he urged on his com-
panions with:

" Call to mind from whence we sprang ;
Ye were not formed to live the life of brutes,
But virtue to pursue and knowledge high."

But however engrossing the analysis of
storied page or ancient prestige may be to him,
the great Florentine is ever finding his way back
to his own age and his own people, and again
we have in Guido da Montefeltro's painful tale
(Canto XXVII) a vivid picture of the wretched
misrule which was afflicting Church and State
and filling our Poet's heart with inexpressible
bitterness.

Among the Sowers of Civil and Religious
Discord, after Mahomet and AH have been dis-
closed, we have predictions about Fra Dolcino,
a fanatic of this time and of Pier da Medicina,
who stirred up strife between Guido da Polenta
and Malatestino da Rimini; and from Curio, the
Roman who gave Caesar such fatal advice, we
come back to Mosca degli Uberti, who first
sowed the seed of civil war among the Tuscans,
and to Bertrand de Born, the celebrated Pro-
vengal poet, whose renown was then a thing of
yesterday, who is made to carry his head, sepr
arated from his body, in his hand in anguish
of spirit, because he separated the young Prince

50 HISTORY OF

John from his father Henry of Guienne. Dante
is filled -with such iorror by the sight of Ber-
trand that he fails to accost one of his own rel-
atives, Geri del Bello, who had been killed in a
duel.

Full of sadness and loathing, he enters the
lazar house of the Falsifiers in Act, in Person,
and in Word. The Alchemists are all drawn
from the ranks of contemporaries and acquain-
tances, and among the Forgers vilifications
and recriminations are going on between Ada-
mo of Brescia and the Greek Sinon. Never does
Virgil give expression to such anger as is arous-
ed by Dante's interest in these vituperations,
and additional scorn is heaped upon them by
our hero's penitence and full recital of his sin,
since Knowledge tells him that "the mere desire
to hear such wrangling is a proof of baseness."

And now, about to penetrate "where guilt
is at its depth", Nimrod, "thro' whose ill counsel
in the world no more one tongue prevails", and
the Giants and Titans, Ephialtes, Briareus and
Antaeus, who "made trial of their strength a-
gainst Almighty Jove" must be encountered.
Here the help of one of these very monsters is
invoked by the appeal to that love of fame in
the upper world, which is dwelt upon so fre-
quently that we may almost say it is never
entirely out of sight. Dante can confer fame.

ITALIAN LITERATURE 51

That is the star he follows with unfailing for-
titude; for the consciousness of intellectual
superiority supports him in banishment, in
homeless wanderings, in face of the hatred
which condemned him to be burned alive if he
returned to Florence.

What w^onder, then, with a soul so given
over to spiritual and intellectual things, he
leaves behind him all grosser, vulgarer sins of
body and mind and fathoms the deepest depths
of guilt with the plummet of Ingratitude? Betray-
ers of their relatives, Betrayers of their Coun-
try, Betrayers of their benefactors fill the low-
est circle of his hell. So much more wretched
are they than any of the others that again and
again he declares himself unequal to the task of
describing them. In four spheres of one great
circle these criminals stand in ice, up to the
waist, shoulders, head, and final immersion.
There is no more heartrending description than
of those whose eyes were so full of frozen tears
that they had to bend their bodies back in or-
der to see Dante. Excepting Ganelon, the betray-
er of Orlando, and Mordrec, son of king Arthur,
all the Betrayers of relatives and friends are
contemporary Italians. Alessandro degli Alber-
ti, Sassuolo Mascheroni, Bocca degli Abati and
Giovanni Soldanieri are even Florentines, and
nowhere else does Dante so steel his heart to pity.

52 HISTORY OF

But if he has been almost cruel to these suf-
ferers, it is only to give way more completely
upon the next provocation. For he relates eve-
ry detail of the awful death by starvation of
Ugolino della Gherardesca and his sons, ad-
mitting that Ugolino had indeed betrayed his
country, but openly upbraiding Pisa for "placing
him on such a cross". And again his righteous
wrath breaks out against his wicked country-
men, and he declares he sees the spirits of Albe-
rigo de' Manfredi and Branca d'Oria in hell,
while their bodies seetn to be alive on earth, as
they actually were when he gave his book to the
world.

But the lowest point is now reached, and
after the magnificent portraiture of Lucifer, tor-
menting Judas Iscariot, Brutus and Cassius,
Betrayers of their benefactors, we find the two
Poets wending their way thro' a long cavern
back to earth. We could not forgive Dante for
placing the noble Brutus in this lowest circle,
were it not that his political theories and the
requirements of his allegory compelled him thus
to express his Ghibelline predilections and his
unalterable faith in imperial government, and
hence his condemnation of the regicide.

Thus does Dante demonstrate the fearful
consequences of sin; and it is a question whether
anyone could endure the dark and terrible por-

ITALIAN LITERATURE 53

trayal were it not that the artist is ever with
his picture. In and out, above and beyond the
dreadful personalties depicted, his own serene
and lofty soul, like a single star in a black sky,
shines and sparkles in unrivaled grandeur. And
while it is impossible that he could have insti-
tuted the comparison, it is, nevertheless, a very
evident fact that we have a world of criminals
on the one hand offset by the one pure soul on
the other. If he has wreaked everlasting ven-
geance on the three Guelf powers that deprived
him of his earthly happiness, he has consecrated
this vengeance to the noblest ends conceivable.
For he has thrown down all barriers of time
and place and sense, and by fasting, labor, toil
and weariness set forth the inestimable value of
the human soul.

Dante, the "Hero of Thought."
Part II. — The Purgatorio.

The stern moralist in the gloomy gulf of
Hell now gives place to the mild and gentle poet
on the Mount of Expiation. Very beautiful is
the "sweet color of oriental sapphire" into
which the poet issues from the "atmosphere of
death". Dante's charm as a poet consists less
in lengthy and sustained passages than in sud-
den lines, phrases, and even words, of such
unexpected loveliness that we are continually
taken by surprise, and this charm is at its
height in the noble Purgatorio.

In this second portion of the great Poem
the narrative becomes much more subjective
and autobiographical. We see our hero unfold-
ing a great roll of illustrations, and the canvas
is a mighty one; but it is not so crowded with
personages as is that of the Inferno, nor are
these personages painted with such vividness
and distinctness, for the reason that the Poet

56 HISTORY OF

himself is less affected by them. He had not
been guilty ot the crimes of the Inferno, and
they filled him only with loathing and terror;
but he has committed (as who has not?) the
sins of the Purgatorio, and, as Virgil tells Cato
of Utica, who guards the entrance to these
realms, "he goes seeking liberty". This revela-
tion of psychological insight is very striking and
very beautiful. The true liberty, that is from
within, is allegorically represented by Cato,
"who refused life for its sake", and only under
such custodianship can "brows be washed from
all their foulness".

Wandering along the base of this strange
Mountain, surrounded on all sides by water,
the Poets suddenly behold

" A light coming so quickly over the sea
That no flying thing could equal its course".

And Dante says :

" As I from this a little had withdrawn my eyes,

To ask my Leader to explain the sight,

When seen again brighter and larger still 'twas grown.

As yet my Master made not any sign,

While the first whiteness to be wings appeared.

But when he knew the pilot of the bark,

He cried : Down, down upon thy knees at once ;

Behold God's Angel, fold the hands,

Now Shalt thou see true ministers indeed".

The heavenly pilot leaves more than a hun-
dred spirits on the shore, and eagerly seeking

ITALIAN LITERATURB 57

the true path up the mountain, they crowd
around the Poets to ascertain it. Almost im-
mediately one of them recognizes Dante and
says,

" As I have loved thee
In the mortal body, so do I love thee loosed".

It proves to be Casella, a Florentine musician,
who, it seems, had often soothed the wearied
spirit of the great scholar, and Dante forestalls
Milton in his love of Music, describing how Ca-
sella might have detained indefinitely the w^hole
band of penitents with his thrilling song, had
not the rigid Cato driven them forward.

But all who have delayed repenting until
the last hours of life must wander long in this
Antepurgatorio; and here Dante meets Manfred,
king of Naples and Sicily, whose brilliant desti-
ny evoked a hatred which followed him beyond
the tomb; Belacqua, an excellent maker of harps
and other musical instruments, but a most idle
person; the Italians Giacopo del Cassero, mur-
dered by Asto da Este; Buonconte da Montfeltro,
son of that Guido who had bewailed his fate in
the Inferno (Canto XXVII), Buonconte, him-
self, having fallen in the memorable battle of
Campaldino, 1289, in which Dante, himself,
took part; and Pia dei Tolomei, foully mur-
dered in 1295 by her husband.

58 HISTORY OF

Virgil and Dante have much conversation
as they move on from one to another of these
spirits. Virgil is remorseful over the delay caus-
ed by the music, and Dante says,

" 0 pure and lofty conscience,
How sharp a little failing stings thee! "

But -when his Master "desists from haste",

" Which mars all decency of act ",

he explains the limits of intellectual perception,
and it is very evident that Dante is a devout
follower of the Stagyrite.

Passing by some contemporaries of inferior
interest, by far the most important person in
this region, is the troubadour Sordello, whose
fame has been revived by Browning after the
lapse of six hundred years. Like Virgil he is a
Mantuan, and the tender greeting of the com-
patriots brings all Italy's lost glory before Dan-
te. His lamentation here seems to exceed all
that has gone before, ending, of course, in bitter
irony over his own city, which he yet addresses
as "/n_7 Florence".

Sordello becomes the guide of the Poets and
points out to them from a distance many of the
sovereigns of that age:— the Emperor Rudolph,
1291, "who might have staunched the wounds
which have killed Italy"; Ottacar king of Bohe-

ITALIAN LITERATURE 59

mia, 1278, "who in his swaddling clothes was
of more worth than". Winceslaus, (1305) his
son, a bearded man feeding on luxury and sloth;
then "one with nose so small" (Philip III of
France, 1285) "who close in counsel seems with
him of gentle look" (Henry III of Navarre),
both of whom seem to be introduced in order
to animadvert upon the hated Philip IV, "mal
di Francia",and how much more of Italy! Peter
III, the great king of Aragon, 1285, praised
both as a sovereign and a poet, gives occasion
for a generalization of great beauty, as his sons
to -whom he bequeathed the thrones of Aragon
and Sicily, did not inherit his virtues, and Dante
says:

" Earely indeed does human excellence
Again rise in its offspring : and this wills
He who bestows it, that of Him it may be sought".

Henry III of England, "the king of simple
life", and the degenerate Charles of Anjou also
receive a brief mention, but Sordello hurries our
hero on to hold converse with some of "these
great shadows", and to his delight Dante finds
that Nino of Pisa (whe was betrayed by Ugo-
lino della Gherardesca) is not among the lost,
while Corrado Malaspina calls forth his warm-
est admiration for that noble House which
sheltered him in time of direst need.

60 HISTORY OF

And now in the hour when

" The spouse of old Tithonous
Grows white upon the eastern bound,
Her brow resplendent with bright gems",

and

" The sad lays commence
With which the swallow ushers in the morn, —
Perhaps in memory of her former woes ",

after long wandering and journeying to find
the right entrance, Dante is carried into Pur-
gatory proper by Lucia, or Illuminating Grace,
swooping down upon him like a golden eagle.

"Ah. how far unlike to these the straits
Of the Inferno ! since by songs in this place.
And down there by groans one enters ".

An Angel stands at each pass which leads
from terrace to terrace circling round this
mountain or truncated cone of Purgatory; and
the descriptions of these glorious beings are so
magnificent, so worthy of the subject, that one
cannot but believe they furnished the models
for the great Painters, from Fra Angelico to
Raphael.

The first Angel strikes Dante's forehead sev-
en times with the letter P, denoting the Peccati.
or seven capital sins from which he is to be purg-
ed in his journey, and the Angelic Guardian of
each pass will testify to their removal. The
first four sins are pointed out to him by Virgil

ITALIAN LITERATURE 61

(Human Wisdom) as Pride, Envy, Anger and
Indifference.

Not content with descriptions of character
and conversations to illustrate these, Dante's
boundless stores of learning and inexhaustible
wealth of imagination enable him to bring forth
new treasures, and he sees the sides of the
mountain covered with marvelous sculptures,
bringing before one an entire scene; and, again,
hears supernatural voices proclaiming signal
examples of the opposite virtue, or the most
awful warnings set forth by the vice. The inta-
glio of the Annunciation is exquisite, and here,
again, one thinks of the Italian Painters who
came after him rather than of Polycletus to
whom he refers. In depicting David dancing
before the Ark, he says,

" And more, and less, than king he was in this ".

The Penitents on this first terrace (of Pride)
are so doubled up and deformed by the huge
w^eights they are made to carry that they can
only be likened to caryatides when

" To sustain ceiling or roof
For corbel oftentimes is seen
A figure joining knees to breast,
Thus making the ujitrue give birth
To a true feeling in the pain within ".

Oderigi of Gubbio, a celebrated miniature
painter, explains the nature of Pride to Dante

62 HISTORY OF

and refers to Franco of Bologna, Cimabue and
Giotto. Dante confesses that the burden of pride
weighs heavily upon him and willingly applies
the lesson to himself; but on the second terrace
(of Envy), where the eyelids of the penitents are
sewed together with threads of iron wire, he
boasts of his freedom. Of course it goes without
saying that the Tuscan cities bear the full brunt
of execration here, but Dante is reproved by ter-
rifying voices recalling the examples of Cain and
Aglauros, and Yirgil perhaps rebukes him for
his earthly love for Florence, when he says :

" And yet little avails you threat or charm.

Heaven calls and wheels around your gaze,

Showing eternal beauties to your soul,

And yet your eye to earth will ever turn ;

For which He who knows all must still chastise".

Three Cantos are devoted to the terrace of
Anger, and so personal is Dante's every line in
these, that we entirely lose sight of the spirits
and find our gaze fixed on the one great figure,
who has transmitted himself to posterity as the
incarnation of Wrath. He does not hesitate to
avow that the Angel only cancels from his fore-
head that form of Anger which is sinful, proud-
ly exulting in his righteous zeal. The wrathful
are punished by watidering blindly in dense and
suffocating smoke, and the Slothful or Indiffer-
ent by never being permitted to rest. Then Dan-
te (representing the natural but uncultivated

ITALIAN LITERATURE 63

reason) discovers for himself the circles of Cov-
etousness, Intemperance and Incontinence. In
the first he hears :

" Sweet Mary, poor indeed thou wast,
As one may plainly see by that poor inn
In which thou didst put down thy holy burden ".

and

" O good Fabricius,
Thou didst choose virtue with poverty rather
Than to possess great wealth with vice ".

He hears also of "the generous gift

Which Nicolao made to the young girls,
To lead their youthful steps to honor ".

" O soul, who dost speak so nobly,

Tell me who thou art, I said, and why alone

Thou these most worthy praises dost renew.

The favor will not be without reward

If I return to flU oiit the journey

Of that life which flies unto its end.

And he : I will inform thee, not for the comfort

That I hope from that, but for the fact

That such grace shines in thee before death.

I was the root of that vile plant

Which blights the Christian World "-

This is Hugh Capet, and there is nothing finer
in its way than the fierce invective which
follows, arraigning the whole royal House of
France. One can well believe the tradition that
Francis I forbade the reading of Dante in his
dominions. The Poet's sincerity is tested to the
utmost in his vigorous (and even pathetic) de-
nunciation of Philip IV's treatment of Pope

64 HISTORY OF

Boniface YIII. Hating Boniface in his own
person as much as he hated Philip, as vicar of
Christ he revers him, and likens his shameful
capture and imprisonment by Philip to the
treatment Christ received from Pilate.

And now the trembling of the whole moun-
tain fills the Poets with unwonted awe and
wonder, while on every side the shout of "Glory
to God in the highest "creates a vehement desire
to know the meaning of it. "

But a few steps further bring them up to
one who gladly explains it. Statins, a Latin
poet, and author of the "Thebaid", tells them
whenever a soul is purged from the desire, or
inclination, to sin, the mountain rocks, and all
the other spirits rejoice and praise God for that
soul's freedom. Only by this change of will or
disposition can the penitent spirit pass beyond
the terrace or circle assigned it and begin its
ascent to Paradise. Statins, himself, is the per-
son for whom the mountain trembles now^. Dan-
te's admiration for him seems to be based upon
the tradition that he became a Christian just
before his death (in the reign of Domitian), and
now as an epic poet, a believer, a purified spirit,
he becomes the allegorical representative of Hu-
man Knowledge Aided by Divine Grace and
accompanies Dante thro' all the remaining circles
of Purgatory.

ITALIAN LITERATURE 65

On the terrace of the Gluttons, or the In-
temperate they hear a voice declaring :

" Mary thought more
How honorable the wedding feast should be

Than of herself:

The Eoman women for their drink
Were satisfied with water, and Daniel
Despised food and acquired wisdom.
The first ages were beautiful as gold ;
Acorns were savory thro' hunger,
And nectar every brook thro' thirst,
Honey and locusts were the viands
Which fed the Baptist in the desert,
And glorious he became, as shown
By the Evangelist who wrote of him ".

In the flames which purify the Incontinent
Dante meets Guido Guinicelli, his forerunner in
his own language, and Arnald Daniel, the great-
est of the Provengal poets, both of whom are
greatly beloved and admired by him. Dante is
compelled to pass through these flames, himself,
and no sooner is the ordeal ended than Virgil, so
long his faithful guide, bids him farewell, leaving
him "crow^ned and mitred over himself".

The Allegory here becomes very marked
and forcible. In this Postpurgatorio, or terres-
trial Paradise, Dante relies no longer upon
Human Wisdom. Entering the "divine forest "
where Adam and Eve once dwelt in innocence
and peace, he meets the beautiful Mathilda
(personifying Afiection for the Church) wander-
ing along the bank of a stream, singing and

66 HISTORY OF

gathering flowers. It is her office to point out to
him the approach of the triumphal chariot,
whose splendor soon fills the forest. The chariot
driven by a gryphon, or composite creature,
shadows forth the Church guided by Jesus
Christ; and while our hero gazes on it he sees
the long -loved Beatrice descend from Heaven
to occupy it. His "spirit had dwelt too long in
her presence" for the sight to terrify him, and
he says he only "felt the great power of the
ancient love", the "heavenly influence which
e'en in childhood thrilled him". Hence though
all the punishments of sin have passed before
him, and all the sorrows of repentance been
experienced by him, he has never been so com-
pletely overcome as by the sharp and stinging
censures which come from the lips of the celestial
w^oman who personifies Divine Wisdom. Cruelly
sarcastic does she seem when she says,

"How is it thou hast deigned to approach the mountain.
Didst thou not know man's happiness is here '"> ^

And it seems hard that as his " eager eyes bend
on her

To appease them of their ten years' thirst ",

she must continue to upbraid him until "such
remorseful goads shoot thro' him" that he falls,
senseless, to the ground.

This conception of Beatrice, that is, of a

ITALIAN LITERATURE 67

lovely woman known and loved on earth, sug-
gesting by her very loveliness thoughts of a
higher, holier state of being, is so lofty, so
utterly removed from earthly, wordly modes of
thought, that it alone places Dante in the first
rank of thinkers. And when we see in these fi-
nal Cantos his noble self-accusations, his inflexi-
ble determination not to spare himself a single
pang of penitence, his fervent longings for regen-
eration, we do not wonder that the Italians
sometimes call the Divine Comedy their Bible.
No one can be capable of following the Poet
here in any measure, and not give thanks, as
the inhabitants of Purgatory so often do, for
"the great grace which enabled him to make
this journey before death."

Beatrice commands Mathilda to submerge
both Dante and Statins in Lethe, which takes
away the remembrance of sins, and in Eunoe,
w^hich brings back the remembrance of virtues,
and fortified by Beatrice's presence, Dante de-
clares himself prepared to contemplate the re-
wards of Heaven.

Dante, the "Hero of Thought"
Part m. — The Paradiso.

Dante has shown us the Middle Ages in a se-
ries of brilliant adventures and atrocious crimes;
and again as foreshadowing ( in himself ) a
passionate love of the Fine Arts. Now he is to
reveal the purely intellectual influences of those
Ages, or, in other w^ords, the attainments of the
Scholastic Philosophy. To the roles of moralist
and poet he now adds that of Metaphysician;
and as he spurs himself on with incomparable
naivete to this most arduous portion of his
work, proudly conscious that he steers his bark
"where no one ever passed", we take it up with
a peculiar interest, as that which the great
Thinker, himself, seals.

In accordance v\rith the cosmic system of the
Scholastics Dante in his idea of Heaven embra-
ces ten spheres, or the heavens of the Moon,
Mercury, Venus, the Sun, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn,
the Fixed Stars, the Primum Mobile and the
Empyrean. And with the subtlety of which he
alone is master he makes the sciences of the

70 HISTORY OF

Scholastics correspond with these spheres; the
Trivium embracing Grammar, Logic and Rhet-
oric and the Quadrivium of Arithmetic, Music,
Geometry and Astronomy correspond to the se-
ven wandering stars; and Physics and Meta-
physics, Ethics, and Theology to the three circles
of the highest heavens.

The spirits whom Dante encounters in this
journey do not abide in certain spheres assigned
to them, but they appear to the Poet in these
spheres to indicate the lesser or greater degree of
glory to which they have attained. PiccardaDo-
nati and the Empress Constance, w^ife of Henry
VI of Germany, appear in the sphere of the
Moon among those who have been (unwillingly)
compelled to break their Monastic vows. Mar-
velously beautiful is the discussion to w^hich
this meeting gives rise. Dante asks Piccarda if
these spirits do not long for a higher place, and
she replies :

" Brother, our will is now at rest.

By virtue of that love which makes us wish

For what we have and thirst not for aught else.

So that as we from step to step

Are in this kingdom, it pleases both the kingdom

And the king, who in His will enfolds us.

In His will is our peace ".

It is in this last line that Matthew Arnold
sees the most perfect specimen of poetry to be
found in all Literature.

ITALIA^I LITERATURE 71

Beatrice explains how it is that a vow can-
not be violated through the force of another
person, (so that those who were torn from con-
vents ought to have found their way back) for
absolute steadfastness of will was seen in Scse-
vola and St. Laurence. Then Dante exclaims :

" T see indeed our miad is never satisfied
Unless the truth illumes it.
In this it rests as in its den the beast,
As soon as it has found it ; this it can.
If not, our thirst would be in vain ".

— thereby refuting the agnostics among the
Schoolmen, \?^ho said that the finite mind can-
not take cognizance of Truth, since Truth is in
its nature infinite. Dante's refutation is based
upon Aristotle's dictum, "nature creates
nothing in vain".

In the planet Mercury the Emperor Jus-
tinian reveals himself, and gives us the most
magnificent synopsis of Roman History, to de-
monstrate the true glory and the true meaning
of the Imperial power in reference to the strifes
of Florence. But Justinian has alluded to the
guilt of the Jews and the satisfaction of God's
justice in the Sacrificial Death of Christ, and
Dante is all eagerness in asking Beatrice to
explain this great mystery. Here w^e find the
sublime doctrine of the Atonement as clearly set
forth as it is to - day. In many passages Dante

72 HISTORY OF

has already spoken of liberty of -will as the su-
preme gift. Now he makes Beatrice say

•'Sin alone is that
Which, doth disfranchise man ".

God alone of His courtesy
Might have forgiven him ".

But

" Since the workman's labor pleases more

As it more clearly demonstrates

The bounty of the heart whence it proceeds,

God, when He gave Himself, did more

To lift man to his first estate,

Than if He had simply forgiven him ",

Wafted unconsciously into the planet Venus,
these profound meditations give place to a talk
with the youthful sovereign, Charles Martel,
1293, king of Hungary and heir to the throne of
Naples. Dante had known him personally and
admired him greatly, and now frankly asks him
to explain how such a noble, virtuous nature as
his could be descended from the House of Anjou.
This difference in natures he makes the young
prince refer to the influence of the celestial spheres,
which the Scholastics called the " efficient
cause" or intermediate agency modifying hu-
man destiny. CunizzadaRomagna (sister of the
tyrant Ezzelino), Folques de Marseille, a trou-
badour \v^ho ended as a monk, and the harlot
Rahab are illustrious proofs in this sphere of
this modifying agency. Rahab, the Poet says,

ITALIAN LITERATURE 73

•was the very first soul liberated by Christ's
triumph, as she herself was the mediator by
whom Joshua's triumph was secured.

But it is not until w^e reach the sphere of the
Sun that we get into the very presence of the
great Schoolmen themselves. St. Thomas of
Aquinas is the speaker here (and Dante does not
forget to mention the "discreet Latin" in which
he speakes), and introduces Albertus Magnus,
Gratian, Peter Lombard, King Solomon, Dio-
nysius the Areopagite, Orosius, who at the
instigation of St. Augustine wrote the Lives of
the Emperors, Boethius, the Venerable Bede,
St. Isidore, Richard of St. Victor, author of the
Mystic Ark, and the monk Sigebert. To one who
loves the love of learning and believes in its
triumph through religion alone, this is rare
company. But this is not enough. St. Thomas
now launches forth into the most fervid eulogy
of Francis of Assisi.

" He was not very far from the dawn
When he commenced to make the earth feel
Some comfort from his great virtue ".

Very beautiful is the account of St. Francis'
espousal of Poverty, and how

" Eegally his hard intention
To Innocent he told ".

Scarcely has St. Thomas, the Dominican,
ceased speaking, when Bonaventure, the Fran-

74 HISTORY OIC

cisca^i, takes up the praise of Dominic And this
is the more remarkable to us of this age, who
repudiate the zeal of the one much more than
the splf - abasement of the other. But the Poet
confesses that the "amorous gallant, the holy
athlete of the Christian faith" was

" Benign to his own, and cruel to his enemies " ;

perhaps gently implying some condemnation of
the Albigensian crusade, though it is impossible
to think of Dante in any sympathy with heresy.
The other illustrious spirits here are the prophet
Nathan, St. John Chrysostom, St. Anselm, and
Donatus, w^ho wrote the first Grammar.

If Dante has proved that he knew how^ to
condemn, it is equally clear that he know^s how
to praise. Very ingenious is the means he takes
to set forth the greatness of Solomon. After rep-
resenting himself as much disturbed by the
strong expressions of St. Thomas in reference to
Solomon (who has pronounced him w^ithout an
equal), he makes the Angelic Doctor come to his
rescue step by step, pointing out how different
w^as the wisdom Solomon asked for from that
of the Schoolmen. He did not ask to solve prob-
blems in dialectics, metaphysics and astrology
— in some of which it must be confessed the

ITALIAN LITERATURE 75

Schoolmen made themselves puerile), but when
he was king, he asked wisdom

" In order that he might be Mng indeed ".

Now, says St. Thomas, in going on to show
our Poet how obtuse are his perceptions :

" Begal prudence is the unequaled sight

In which the beam of my intention pierced.

Thou Shalt see it had respect alone

To kings, who are many and the good are few.

And let this always be lead to thy feet,

To make thee move slowly as a weary man

Both to the Yes and to the No thou dost not see.

Since he is well abased among the foolish

Who without judgment sanctions or denies,

The same in one as in the other case.

Because it happens that oft-times turns

Current opinion in a false direction,

And then affection binds the intellect.

Who fishes for the truth and the art knows not

More than in vain sets out to leave the shore,

For such as he went out he does not now return,

So did Sabellius, Arius and those foolish ones", etc.

— The whole passage is masterly, and wor-
thy of the profoundest study by all who care
for the investigation of Truth, and the prin-
ciples to be adopted by its pioneers.

After being enlightened on the subject of the
resurrection -body, Dante finds himself in Mars,
where the radiant spirits of those who fought
and died for the true faith are arranged as gemS
in the form of a cross. Joshua, Judas Macca-
beus, Charlemagne, Godfrey de Bouillon, Orlan-

76 HISTORY OF

do.William I of Orange, (808) Rinaldo and Rob-
ert Guiscard are in the cross, but by far the
most interesting and important person to us is
Cacciaguida, Dante's illustrious ancestor. For
it is in this most moving conversation that we
get glimpses of Dante's view of his own history.
Cacciaguida had followed the Emperor Conrad
III in the Second Crusade, 1148, and died de-
fending the Holy Sepulchre; so that the kind of
noble birth in which Dante glories is in keeping
w^ith all his sentiments, and Cacciaguida is rep-
resented as being as proud of him as he is of
Cacciaguida. Dante has assumed that he is
writing his great Poem in the year 1300 that
he may record events in the form of predictions,
and now in 1317, all that is said of his political
life becomes doubly significant. Cacciaguida
speaks of the Donati as

" The House of which is born your weeping,
Thro' the just anger which has killed you,
And put an end to .joyful living ".

But he tells the stricken patriot that

" The guilt will follow the offended party

Injreport, as it is wont ; but the vengeance

Will bear testimony to the truth which has dispensed it"

" Thou Shalt prove how bitter tastes

The bread of others, and how hard the road

Of going up and down another's stairs ".

ITALIAN LITERATURE 77

" Thy first refuge and the first inn

Will be the courtesy of the great Lombard,

Who will have for tJiee so kind a glance

That of the doing and the asking between you,

He will be first who among others is the last".

This is Can Grande della Scala, lord of Ve-
rona, whose quaint and curious tomb is pointed
out to every tourist, and whose greatest glory
is this most exquisite praise. But in losing "the
place that is dearest" to him, Dante's thoughts
turn to his "songs", and he says :

" I have learnt that which if rehearsed

To many '11 savour of great bitterness,

And yet, if timid to the truth,

I fear to lose life among those

Who will one day call this time ancient ".

The illustrious progenitor replies :

" A bad conscience
Will feel thy saying harsh,
But, none the less, remove untruth.
Make all the vision manifest.
And vital nourishment it will become
When it is once digested ".

In the planet Jupiter the upright judges
make their appearance, but Dante is sorely per-
plexed by the presence of the Trojan Rifeus and
the Emperor Trajan here. These are the only
unbaptized persons that the rigid Churchman
finds in Heaven. He is told to do as one who
learns a thing by its name, but is not able to
understand its quiddity, as the Scholastics said,

78 HISTORY OF

if another does not make it manifest. The true
explanation follows in the striking lines :

" The kingdom of Heaven suffers violence

From ardent love and lively hope,

Which conquer the Divine Will,

Not in the way man subdues man,

But conquer it because it wishes to be conquered.

And, conquered, conquers with its love ".

Faith, Hope and Charity were "in the place
of baptism" to these heroes, and this seems to
pave the way for the appearance of St. Peter
Damiano in the planet Saturn, the sphere of the
contemplative. For the profound dogma of
Predestination must be dealt w^ith, and w^e can
hardly overestimate our debt to Dante for the
sublime prohibition with which he guards this
subject, most solemnly declaring that he has
been commanded in his holiest vision to adjure
the mortal world "not to presume to tread this
way".

After a brief talk with St. Benedict Dante
enters the Starry Sphere, and beholds the Son of
God and the Virgin Mary descend with hosts of
Angels and glorified spirits. Most exquisitely,
most ideally reverent is his treatment of this
theme. Then Beatrice asks the Apostle Peter
to probe him concerning his Faith, and after
the severe examination the Poet says :

ITALIAN LITERATURE 79

" If it ever happens that the sacred poem,

In which both heaven and earth have had a part,

So that it has made me lean for many years.

Conquers the cruelty which keeps me out

Of the loved fold, where as a lamb I slept.

An enemy to wolves who warred with it,

I will return a poet and at the f(mt

Of my baptism will take the crown ;

Since there I entered in the faith

Which makes souls dear to God,

For which Peter hath pressed my brow ".

— lines \\rhich reveal the undying hope of the
exile, the passion of the patriot, and place his
personality above his genius.

St. James examines Dante on the subject of
Hope, St. John upon Love, and after a deeply
interesting convei'sation with Adam, St. Peter
takes occasion to reprove the wicked pastors of
the Church, and Beatrice follows with a con-
demnation of the evil desires of men in general.

While in the Primum Mobile or ninth sphere,
where he views the celestial hierarchy, he is told
that the blessedness of the beatified consists in
the act of seeing, not in that of loving, — a very
important point to the Scholastics, St. Thomas
placing it in the former, and Duns Scotus in the
latter. It is entirely in harmony with all Dan-
te's teaching that the intellect must first per-
ceive relations, in order to excite emotions corres-
ponding to the perceptions.

And now Beatrice takes her place among

80 HISTORY OF

the Blessed, since Theological Science does not
give the vision of God Himself, and Dante's last
guide is St. Bernard, figure of Contemplation
and Love. The last persons pointed out, in the
Empyrean, are Eve, Rachel, Beatrice, Sarah,
Rebecca, Judith and Ruth; "the great John, who
holy always, suffered the desert, martyrdom,
and the Inferno for two years"; Francis of As-
sisi, St. Benedict and St. Augustine, Moses, An-
na, the Mother of the Virgin, and Santa Lucia,
virgin and martyr. But nearest of all to the
ineffable arcanum of the Holy Trinity is the
lowly Mary, and in accordance with the teach-
ings of the age St. Bernard prays :

" Virgin Mother, daughter of thy Son,
Humble, yet higher than all creatures,
Fixed term of the Eternal Will,
Thou art she who hast ennobled
Human nature, when its Maker
Did not scorn to make Himself its work.

Thy benignity not onlj' succors
Him who asks, but many times
Freely foreruns the asking.

Now he who from the lowest point

Has seen the living spirits one by one

Of the whole Universe,

Begs from thee so much grace

That he may lift his eyes to Happiness Divine".

The beatific vision is vouchsafed, and in the

overpowering light the faithful disciple sees that

Human Form, which as the great Mystery of

mysteries fills the soul with ecstacy.

ITALIAN LITERATURE 81

So careful is Dante's elaboration of every de-
tail of his work that it cannot be without signi-
ficance that each of the great Books ends with
the word stars, for, as Byron says, they are

" A beauty and a mystery, and create
In us such love and reverence from afar,
That fortune, fame, power, life have named
themselves a star "

The completeness of the magnificent Poem
must impress the mind of every reader. It is one
of the proofs of the human intellect; belonging
to all races, all lands, all time. Viewed from thi»
one point of "the personalities which have once
arrested Dante's attention", it is stupendous,
and sublime; but in the actual reading of it one
is tempted to exclaim : the Universe is in this-
book!

Petrarch's Services to Literature.

In his "Decline and Fall of the Roman Em-
pire" Gibbon makes himself merry at the ex-
pense of Petrarch; representing him as a mock
hero always posing for effect. Byron, of true
poetic temperament, but a man of not much
greater refinement of feeling than Gibbon, openly
confesses himself baffled by Petrarch and his
Sonnets. The austere Hallam admires the ef-
fects of Petrarch's passion in the form of lit-
erature, but condemns the passion. J. A.
Symonds was so much occupied with Petrarch's
services to Learning that he did not have time
to estimate his services to Literature. Sismondi,
Simpkins, Cantu, Madame de Stael, Michelet
have all paid beautiful tributes to Petrarch's
genius in general terms, but have not stated
just how they solved the problem.

For we are, undoubtedly, confronted by a
grave problem in the study of Petrarch. To rec-
oncile the greatest classical scholar of the age,
the man who revolutionized the taste of Europe,

ITALIAN LITERATURE 83

with a sickly sentimentalist who deluged the
world with his own humors, is the task before
us. One thing is evident at the very start: Pe-
trarch must either be taken seriously, or as a
huge jest. To fill three or four hundred pages
with sighs and lamentations over a married wo-
man who never returned this passion is not the
action of a well balanced mind. A careful study
of Petrarch's life, however, reveals, first, the
fact that he spent very little of his time at Avi-
gnon or Yaucluse, and thus necessarily saw but
little of Laura; and secondly, the fact that he
continued to write Sonnets and songs after her
death in exactly the same style adopted in her
life. The Italian critics, studying these facts,
often came to the conclusion that there was
no such person as Madonna Laura, and that
the inspirer of Petrarch's muse w^as a mere
abstraction.

Internal evidences, as well as many well
authenticated facts, prevent this conclusion. But
the biographical data furnish a clew of import-
ance. The subject of Petrarch's poems is Love,
not in the abstract nor as the key to heroic ad-
ventures and brilliant narratives, but in the
concrete, as the representative emotion of the
human heart. Experience proves that as here on
earth the eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor
the ear with hearing, neither is the heart with

84 HISTORY OF

loving. Petrarch was especially gifted -with a
profound insight into this deep unrest, this insa-
tiable longing, this boundless aspiration which
accompanies (if indeed it is not the very essence
of) love. Cantu points out the fact that the
real passion of Petrarch's life w^as glory. And
indeed the remarkable success of his life, his real
shrewdeness in understanding how to attain the
ends he desired, his lovableness to his friends,
and the fact that he blushed for and repented of
his sonnets, all go to prove that while he did
write out of the abundance of his heart, it was
also out of the abundance of an intellectual pen-
etration which has rarely been equaled. There
is a delicacy of sentiment above Petrarch's, such
as would not permit the unveiling of the heart's
deepest secrets. He himself represented his mind
as devoid of force, but endowed with dexterity.
This plastic power of the artist is seen even in
the most passionate of the love poems; examples
ol which may be considered in Sonnets III and
XXXIX.

Sonnet III.

" It was the day whereon the sun's bright rays
For pity of its Maker lost their pow'r.
That I was tak'n, all heedless at that hour,
And bound by your eyes, lady of my lays.
Time gives no respite, no remedial days
To Love's wild onslaughts ; and yet on I went,
Secure, without suspicion, and was sent

ITALIAN LITERATURE 85

To plunge me in the grief of love's fierce frays.
Ah ! Love then found me powerless, all disarmed,
And reached the heart by access to the eyes,
Of tears the exit and, anon, the ford.
Yet in my judgment 'tis no boastful prize,
While you, all panoplied, remain unharmed,
A heart defenceless, helpless, thus to lord ".

Sonnet XXXIX.

" O blessed be the day, the month, the year,
The season and the time, hour, moment, all.
The land so fair, the spot fond thoughts recall.
In which those lovely eyes cast out my fear.
And blessed be the first sweet grief and tear
Which were the penalty of Love's hard thrall.
The bow and arrow compassing my fall.
Yes, ev'n the wounds that in my heart appear.
Bless'd, too, the many, many words that I
Have scattered with my lady's own loved name.
The sighs, the tears, emotions deep and high.
And blessed all the sheets I've writ for fame
Of her alone, my thoughts of whom ne'er vie
With others, but for her are still the same".

And it is much more clearly recognized in
such sonnets as the Twelfth, which I find is al-
w^ays given as one of the most perfect specimens
of Petrarch's versification.

Sonnet XII.

" The aged man with hoary beard and hair
Sets out from home, sweet nest of days gone by.
And from the sore bewildered family.
Who see the father dear now worn with care :
Thence drawing labored breath with saddened air
Through the last days decreed for him on high.
As well as steadfast will with age can vie.
Yet with such mien as weary travelers wear.

86 HISTORY OF

To Borne he comes, pursuing fond desire
To view the image of the One Above,
Whom soon he hopes in Paradise to see.
Thus, weary, I go seeking, further, nigher,
O lady, if in others I may prove
A semblance of the joy I find in thee "•

Higher moods are reflected as we proceed,
and we find one explanation of Petrarch's pop-
ularity in the pure and noble character of his
love. An illustration of this may be found in the
seventh Canzone.

" My gentle Lady, I discern
A sweet light in those lovely eyes,
Which points the way that leads to Heaven ;
And habit too has made me wise
To look within, from Love to learn
The heart which thus its mask has riven.
This is the sight for my good given.
That must a glorious end design ;
This keeps me from the vulgar throng :
Nor ever was there human tongue
■ Could tell just what those eyes divine
Have made me feel.

And then I think if up on high,

Th'eternal Mover of the stars

Designs his work below.

If there such beauty bursts its bars.

From out my prison I would fly,

This journey only know.

Then to the strife I turn, and lo !

I thank fair Nature for my birth.

And for reserving me for good,

And her who so has wooed

My heart on high ; for once as earth

I did my soul deprave :

But from that day I gained the mirth

Of thoughts all bright and brave,

A heart whose keys those eyes still have ".

ITALIAN LITERATUEE 87

So closely is our poet's passion intertwined

with deep religious emotion that we are not

surprised to find one gliding into the other. One

of the most striking of the religious sonnets is

the Fortieth.

Sonnet XCi.

" O Heavenly Father, after days all lost,

And after nights in ravings wild ill - spent,

"With fierce desires that to this heart were sent

By beauty apprehended to my cost :

Thee may it please to turn me, tempest- tost,

To other living and on good intent ;

So that my dreadful adversary's feint

May prove all useless and his will be crost.

It is, O Lord, eleven years, I trow,

Since 1 submitted to the ruthless yoke,

"Which o'er the gentlest wields its harshest sway.

Have pity on my undeserved woe ;

Let me from hence a holier theme invoke,

Eemember Thou wast on the Cross this day".

And few things in all Literature are more
beautiful than the LII sonnet.
Sonnet EiII.

" My soul is bowed beneath the -weight of grave

And dreadful sins, and habits full of shame.

So that I fear no strength I now can claim.

And to my enemy I'll fall a slave.

There came a Friend to rescue and to save.

Through courtesy ineffable He came ;

Then flew where sight can no more aim.

So that in vain to follow, it may crave.

But still reverberates His voice Divine :

'O ye who labor, ye who wildly rove.

Come now to me, and let no foe molest.'

"What grace, what love, what destiny benign

"Will give me wings as of a spotless dove,

That I may flee to Him and be at rest?

88 HISTORY OF

But it is not the power of the artist, the
sweetness of the sentiments, nor the religious
devotion which has given these poems their
wide popularity. Their merit lies in the fact that
they are a revelation of personality. They are
records of a heart-history. It is possible indeed,
to have the whole story of the poet's outward
life. Thus we find that up to the LXXIV sonnet
he had only a slight acquaintance with Madon-
na Laura. The CXYII sonnet records the fact
that he does not yet dare to speak to her. Only
towards the close of the poems w^ritten during
the life of Laura do we find any allusions to
actual conversations, to the finding of a glove,
and to the poet's chivalrous restoration of the
lost property. But however charming this ro-
mance, however pleasing to women this homage
of Petrarch's, which made him "adore his lady
and bow before her as a holy thing", it is evi-
dent that it is not the story itself which deserves
such fame.

Petrarch's services to Literature reside in
the fact that he endowed it with a new element.
As before his time no one had so ennobled, beau-
tified and dignified personal emotion, so after
he had introduced the fashion, it was caught up
and imitated by all Europe. If before making a
study of the poems we feel bewildered by the
incongruities in Petrarch's life and learning,

ITALIAN LITERATURE 89

such confusion is entirely set aside after carefully
examining them. None but a man of genius
could show the world that as artistic unity de-
pends upon analogy of feeling, so poetry may
deal with individual sentiment and yet testify
to the unity of spirit w^hich binds man to man
and man to nature in one organic whole.

The ethereal melancholy which constitutes
so much of the charm of these poems is,ofcourse,
the great feature in the songs and sonnets
written after the death of Laura. Sonnet XXIV
may be given as a specimen :

Sonnet XXIV.

" The eyes which once I sung with love and art,

The arms, the hands, the feet, the lovely face.

Which made a species of another race,

And from my body sundered my poor heart ;

The curly locks, of gold the purest part.

The angelic smile of superhuman grace.

Which made a Paradise of this poor place.

All, all are dust ; at nothing shrink or start.

And I yet live ; for which I grieve and rage.

I sail without the light I so did love,

With tempests wild, and pilotless, I wage.

Now know my songs, you never more can rove :

Dry is the source from whence ye drew your gauge ;

My harp wails only as a mournful dove."

The "Triumphs" consist of six separate
poems treating of the triumphs of Love over
man, of Chastity over love, of Death over both
of these, of Fame over death, of Time over fame
and of Eternity over time. These are steeped in

90 HISTORY OF

erudition and contain many beautiful thoughts
and lines. In the Triumph of Love the poet in
his vision sees Dante, Cino da Pistoia and Guit-
tone d'Arezzo (all three of whom he has men-
tioned in the XIX sonnet on the death of Laura. )
And here also occurs the interesting passage
referring to the great troubadours, the Pro-
ven5al poets Arnald Daniel, Arnald de Marveil,
Rambaud Vaqueiras, Folques de Marseille &c.

In the Triumph of Chastity the most inter-
esting reference is to Piccarda Donati, whom
Dante dilates upon in the "Paradiso".

The "Triumph of Death" is very beautiful
and among many remarkable passages contains
these exquisite lines refering to the death of
Laura :

" Not as a flame which by some force is spent,
But which of its own self is now consumed,
The soul went out in peace and deep content ;
A light that sweetly, clearly had illumed.
Now flick' ring as a lamp that has burned low ;
And to the last its own loved ways resumed.
Not pallid, whiter far than any snow
When on the hillside, motionless it falls.
She seems to rest as weary travelers do.
The going hence now of the soul forestalls
A deep sweet slumber in those lovely eyes.
And this the foolish person 'dying' calls,
O Death, how lovely art thou in this guise!".

The miscellaneous poems are full of interest,
glowing with patriotism, piety and love of
learning. The most memorable and pathetic

ITALIAN LITERATURE 91

are the Canzoni to Cola di Rienzi and to the
Italian Nobility.

It is evident then that Petrarch cannot be
understood from hearsay. One must drink deep
of the Pierian spring he has unlocked, and then
it will be impossible not to rejoice in the niche
he occupies in the Temple of Fame. *

* The reader's attention is called to the exquisite
translations of Petrarch made by Emma Lazarus -Col-
lected Poems, Houghton, Miffin & Co. 1895.

% ^

1400-1450

CHAPTER II.
The Revivers of Learning.

Giovanni da Ravenna (1355-1420) was the
first teacher of classical Latin in Italy, that is,
in Europe. In youth he had been Petrarch's
secretary and amanuensis, but later he became
a wandering professor, and numbered among
his pupils the greatest humanists of the age.

Manuel Cbrysoloras of Byzantium w^as the
first teacher of Greek, being invited by the Flo-
rentines in 1396 to take up his abode in their
city. This was even more important than the
resuscitation of Latin, for "Italy w^as on the eve
of becoming not only the depositary of Greek
learning, but also the sole interpreter of the
Greek spirit to the modern world."

In 1362 there w^ere as many as fifteen Uni-
versities in Italy. In Bologna alone there w^ere
15,000 students.

Palla degli Strozzi, and Cosimo de' Medici,
of Florence, Alphonso III of Naples, Filippo Ma-
ria Visconti of Milan and Popes Martin V, Eu-

ITAUAN LITERATURE 93

genius IV, and Nicolas Y were the munificent
patrons of learning at this time.

Poggio Bracciolini, born just outside of Flor-
ence in 1380, was one of the most striking fig-
ures among the early humanists. After being
a pupil of Giovanni da Ravenna and Manuel
Chrysoloras, he entered the Roman Curia as
Papal Secretary, but refused to take orders in
the Church and spent his best energies in writ-
ing against it. His writings and orations were
all in Latin, of which he w^as considered a mas-
ter. Such themes as "The Nobility", "Changes
of Fortune", "Human Misery" were treated in
the form of essays, while his "Book of Jests"
and "Dialogue against the Hypocrites" gave
full scope for his wit, satire and invective. He
was also an archaeologist, and was the first
person to identify the ruins of ancient Rome.

An indefatigable traveler, Poggio exhumed
copies of Quintilian, Lucretius, Vitruvius, Am-
mianus Marcellinus and other less important
works. And in spite of his travels, he yet fbuiid
time to build an elegant country residence near
Florence, and adorn it with works of Art from
Greece. Having led a life of immorality, he
married at the age of 55 into the Florentine no-
bility, and ended his life in 1459 as Prior of the
Republic. His statue, which was the work of
Donatello for the fagade of the Duomo, was

94 HISTORY OF

removed in 1560, and by mistake was set up as
one of the twelve Apostles in another part of
the Cathedral.

Francesco Filelfo,hom at Tolentino in 1398,
impresses us as a Poggio intensified. More of a
literary gladiator, more traveled, moreimmoral,
more learned, more scurillous, his long life is an
epitome of the age. At eighteen he was pro-
fessor of Eloquence at Padua, and a few years
later at Venice. Being sent by the Venetians to
Constantinople on a diplomatic mission, he
embraced the rare opportunities for acquiring
the Greek language and collecting Greek books.
Five of the best years of his life were spent in
Florence, where he lectured on Cicero, Livy, Ho-
mer and Xenophon at the University, and read
Dante in the duomo without any public or pri-
vate reward.

Filelfo translated from the Greek parts of
Aristotle, Lysias, Xenophon and Plutarch,
wrote Satires and Odes in Latin, wrote a Com-
mentary on Petrarch and composed a poem on
St. John Baptist in Italian, while it w^ould be
wearisome to enumerate his orations, panegyr-
ics, libels, compilations, etc. etc. He had as
bitter enemies as warm admirers, and seems to
have enjoyed both in their way. It -was under
the patronage of Filippo Maria Visconti at
Milan that Filelfo reveled in the display of all

ITALIAN LITERATURE 95

his great powers, for he was exceedingly vain,
and life hardly seemed rich enough to furnish
him with material to exhaust his physical and
intellectual vigor. He was married three times,
and each time into a distinguished family. When
the duchy of Milan passed into the hands of
Francesco Sforza, Filelfo still retained the ducal
favor, but towards the close of his life he longed
to end his days in Florence near Lorenzo de'
Medici, and w^as about to accept the Chair of
Greek Literature there when he died at the age
of eighty -three, in 1481.

These are only two among many illustrious
names of this period, but they are representa-
tive, and it is not well to crowd the mind with
names to which we can attach no individuality.
We pass on, therefore, to another phase of the
revival and come to

The Greek Exiles. It is generally supposed
that the fall of Constantinople in 1453 and the
dispersion ot the learned Greeks inaugurated the
Revival of Learning. Closer investigation proves
this to be an error. The Italians themselves
w^ere the originators of the revival, and the
mighty movement can be traced directly to Pe-
trarch. The reason why the Greek fugitives
came to Italy w^as that they were w^anted there.
They were invited and urged to come from time
to time during the hundred years which pre-

96 HISTORY OF

ceded the fall of Constantinople, i. e. during the
steady decrepitude of the Eastern Empire. We
select from among their number

First : Cardinal Bessarion, who rose to high
station in the Greek Church and came to the
Council of Florence in 1438 as Archbishop of
NicEea. Pope Eugenius IV converted him to the
Latin faith and made him a cardinal. Hence-
forth his palace in Rome became the meeting -
place of scholars of all nations and especially of
refugee Greeks. The Cardinal collected a mag-
nificent library, and, his own studies taking
the turn of theological philosophy, he appeared
in authorship as the upholder and vindicator
of Plato against the admirers of Aristotle. Bes-
sarion represents all that was luxurious, suc-
cessful and imposing in the scholarship of the
age.

Second : Georgios Gemistos Pletbon of Con-
stantinople came to Italy in the train of the
emperor John Palaeologus in 1438. He was a
man of the most profound erudition, who wor-
shipped Plato and did more for the revival of
Hellenism in Italy than anyone after Manuel
Chrysoloras. He lived most of his life in Greece,^
being made a judge at Mistra, the site of ancient
Sparta . But for three years he resided in Florence,
and the extent and power of his influence over
the whole thought of Italy, and through Italy

ITALIAN LITERATURE 97

over Europe, cannot be estimated in words.

Third: Theodoras Gaza (of Thessalonica),
on the other hand,\?as one of the humble gram-
marians who fled from the falling empire and
took up a residence in Italy. But his name is
memorable as the translator of Aristotle and
Theophrastus, and as the denunciator of the
antichristian philosophy then advocated by
men, who, in rescuing the text of Plato, misin-
terpreted and maligned his subtlety.

Returning to the Italians, we find that hu-
manism reached its culmination in the following
great names :

Marsilio Ilcino. Born at Figline in 1433,.
Ficino w^as the son of Cosimo de' Medici's Phy-
sician, and Cosimo, himself, set the boy apart
for the study of Plato. To this end he became
a member of the Medicean household, and that
Ficino might expound Plato to the Florentines,
the great Platonic Academy was founded. He
devoted his life to translating the whole of Plato
into Latin, writing a Life of Plato, and a trea-
tise on the Platonic Doctrine of Immortality.

In studying Ficino's life we find new trophies
gained for the human reason, and it is refresh-
ing to know that he remained through life an
earnest Christian. Taking orders in the Church
at the age of forty, he performed his duties
faithfully, and judged antiquity by the standard

98 HISTORY OF

of Christianity. He does not belong to the pa-
ganizing humanists, but opens a new chapter in
the history of mental progress, and is to be re-
membered as the great neoplatonist of the
age. His friendship with all the learned men of
the day, and especially with Pico della Miran-
dola and Poliziano, is one of the most beautiful
things on record, and his influence over the
young Lorenzo de' Medici is one of the most
noteworthy facts in the history of education.
Ficino died in 1499.

Giovanni Pico della Mirandola (1463-1494)
is the most brilliant name in all the annals of
Humanism. When he appeared in Florence in
1484, his princely birth, fascinating beauty,
marvelous accomplishments and splendid style
of living made him the idol of society. His moth-
er w^as related to the mother of the great
Boiardo and, early discovering her son's talents,
sent him to the University of Bologna at the age
of fourteen. To a thorough knowledge of Latin
and Greek he added the knowledge of Hebrew,
Chaldee and Arabic. In 1486 he published his
famous Nine Hundred Theses at Rome, but nar-
rowly escaping excommunication, so far in ad-
vance of his age was his learning. He was in-
deed called the phoenix of his age, and was also
the author of a poem entitled the Heptaplus, a
mystical exposition of the creation, and of many

ITALIAN LITERATURE 99

translations from Latin and Greek authors.

Pico's was a thoroughly devout mind, and,
while he lived as became a count of Mirandola,
he inclined to greater austerity as the years
w^ent by, and even contemplated entering an
order of Friars. But death cut short all the
bright, as well as all the grave, prospects before
him, and at the early age of thirty-one, in 1494,
his spirit took its flight.

All the romance of this enthusiastic age is
summed up in Pico. His schemes for the advance-
ment of learning were on the most magnificent
scale. Indeed in an age when learning was com-
ing in like a flood, he was the first to reach
the high water-mark of genius. He was a true
philosopher, his life was consecrated, and his
early death seals him as a hero and martyr of
science. His beautiful portrait still hangs in the
Uifizzi Gallery.

Angela Poliziano, born at Montepulciano,
in Tuscany, in 1454, belongs equally to the
period of the Revival of Learning and to the
age of the Renaissance, to the group of Pico and
Ficino and to the still more celebrated circle
around Lorenzo de' Medici. In the first he ap-
pears not only as a Master of Greek and Latin
authors, a translator and expositor of Homer,
Epictetus and Herodian, of Ovid, Statins and
Seutonius, but as an original poet in the Latin

100 HISTORY OF

language, the only man, in fact, whose Latin
versifying ripened into genuine poetry. The
"Manto", "Ambra", "Rusticus" and "Nutri-
cia" are poems -which excite the -warmest admi-
ration of modern scholars, and J. A. Symonds,
-who has published copious extracts from the
original Latin as well as beautiful translations
into English, says Poliziano's success in Latin
versification has constituted the standard of
modern education for four hundred years in all
the Universities of Europe. He tells us that
"the spirit of Latin literature lived again in Po-
liziano". As the pupils of Poliziano, the English
Grocin and Linacre, the German Reuchlin and
the Portuguese Tessiras carried back to their
respective homes the spolia opitna of Italian
culture.

But -when we turn to another phase of
this great man's life, we find him equally distin-
guished, as an Italian poet. His father had been
murdered by the political enemies of Piero de'
Medici. This gave Angelo a claim on the Me-
dici family, and w^e are not surprised to find
that a life -long friendship existed between the
literary dependent and the aspiring Lorenzo. It
is to Lorenzo de' Medici that the glory of resus-
citating Italian Literature belongs. And it was
in response to his suggestions that, after an in-
terval of a hundi'ed years, another beautiful

ITALIAN LITERATURE 101

Italian poem was given to the world by his
friend, Poliziano, — "Orpheus", a lyrical drama,
which ranks as the finest production from the
time of Petrarch to that of Ariosto.

In general conception and artistic form this
poem bears that unquestionable mark of genius
w^hich renders a work pleasing to all ages and
people, for it is the germ and model of the pas-
toral play and the opera, a form of recreation
without which the world would have been poor
indeed.

Besides his Latin works and the "Orpheus",
Poliziano left "La Giostra", i. e. The Tourna-
ment, a fragment celebrating a feat of Giuliano
de' Medici's; and many odes, ballads and Greek
epigrams.

Like his friends Pico and Ficino, Poliziano
never married, but his moral character does not
appear to have attained the lofty standard of
these intellectual compeers. His death occurred
in 1494, two years after that of the great patron
whom he so bewailed, and his tomb in Florence
bears the Latin inscription: "Here lies the Angel
who had one head and three tongues", a-rath-
er flippant reminder of his glorious scholar-
ship.

As no student can dispense with some knowl-
edge of the "Orpheus", I translate from the text

102 HISTORY OF

published by Francesco Torraca the following
beautiful passages :

(IV) Orpheus :

" Pity, pity on a miserable lover,

Let pity seize you, O infernal spirit :

Love alone has led me to your cover,

With his wings alone have I drawn near it.

Ah, Cerberus, let not thy wrath boil over.

Since when thou shalt know my sorrow's merit.

Not thy tears alone with me will freely flow.

But all in this dark world my ills shall know.

Not for me, O Furies, is your lowing ;

Not for me the serpents in their throes :

If you knew my bitter pains' undoing,

You would be at once companions in my woes.

Now let in a wretched lover sueing,

Who has heav'n and all the elements his foes,

For he comes to seek his boon or death's estate.

Open, open, then, for me the iron gate."

Pluto:

" Who is this that with the golden zithern

Now the gate immovable has moved.

So that to the dead his ills are proved ?

Neither Sisyphus the rock

To the lofty mountain steers,

Nor from Tantalus the water now flows back.

Nor Tityus now groans and swears ;

Ixion's wheel is still ;

E'en the Danaids lack

The strength their urns to flU ;

The spirits silence their lament.

So are they on the song intent."

Proserpine:

" Dear consort, when, led by thy love,
I left the skies for good or ill.
Then to be made the Queen of hell.
It had no power to move

ITALIAN LITERATURE 103

With passion's tender bait
To joy all joys above.
With longing on this voice I wait.
Nor does it seem another charm
Could lift me up to such a state,
Then rest awhile, thy wrath disarm,
If thou wilt grant my fond request.
Now let us hear the song and rest."

Orpheus:

" O rulers over all this race

Who've lost the blessed light supernal.

To whom descends fair nature's grace

Which bloomed erewhile 'neath skies more vernal.

Hear now the cause of my sad face,

'Tis Love has led to realms infernal,

And Cerberus bars not my way,

But for my lady I will stay.

A serpent hid in grass and flowers

Has stol'n my lady, nay, my heart,

In bitter pain now pass my hours,

Nor can I bear the cruel dart,

If mem'ry in your minds embowers

The ancient, celebrated part

Which once you played, you will, I see,

Eurydice restore to me.

All things at last to you return.

To you each mortal life comes back,

As oft as Luna rings her horn

It suits to seek the well-worn track :

Some more, some less, above sojourn ;

But guests for you will never lack ;

This is the limit of our way :

Then hold you undisputed sway.

My nymph will be reserved for you

When nature gives her back at last.

Then why the tender stalk now hew

With scythe relentless, cruel, fast ?

Why reap the buds not yet in view

And wait not until bloom is pass'd ?

104 HISTORY OF

Then render me my hope, my all,
No gift, — a loan for which I call,
I seek It through the turbid stream
Of marshy Styx and Acheron,
Through Chaos, of the first born beam.
And sounding thud of Flegethon,
And by the fruit which thou, O Queen,
Didst covet in a higher zone.
If you deny me, wretched fate.
Death only can my sorrow sate ".

Then after Proserpine and Pluto have giv-
en their consent and Eurydice herself appears,
the Furies rush forward and separate the lovers,
and Orpheus exclaims :

" From henceforth how can any song
Set forth the grief of my great wrong ?
How can I ever weep so long
As wails my heart, in anguish strong !
Disconsolate in this sad throng,
Soon those on earth I'll be among,
But fate to me has giv'n such pain,
I'll never woman love again.

Wretched is he who gives a thought
To woman, or for her still grieves.
Or yields the liberty he'd sought.
Or trusts, or fondly now believes :
For lighter than a leaf, distraught,
She trembles, flutters and deceives.
Forever baffling in retreat.
Like waves that on the lone shores beat."

The tragedy ends with the Killing of Or-
pheus by the Bacchae, but enough has been
translated to show the striking treatment Poli-
ziano has given this pretty fable, and the rich-

ITALIAN LITERATURE 105

ness and abundance of the melodious language
which through him had risen to life again.

THE LEARNED WOMEN, Any sketch of
this eventful period would be incomplete wth-
out some mention of the remarkable women
w^ho adorned it. As the absence of national and
political life impelled the men of Italy to literary
labors, it also swept away the obstacles which
existed in other countries to the education of
the women. While the transalpine nobility
gloried in their ignorance and signed their
names with a cross, the Italians were enjoying
the richest fruits of Arts and Letters. Voltaire's
dictum that an age is to be judged by the learn-
ing of its women is of great force here. The
difficulty is in discriminating.

BITISIA GOZZADINA at the age of 27 was
doctor of civil and canon law in Padua.

COSTANZA DI VARANO, poetess, orator,
and philosopher, had daily in her hands the
works of St. Augustine, St. Ambrose, St. Jerome,
and St. Gregory, as well as those of Seneca,
Cicero, and Lactantius. She delivered a Latin
oration, which was so effectual, that it obtained
a reversal of legal proscriptions for her family.

ANTONIA PULCI ( 1438-1488 ) wrote the
popular Scenic representations (the drama of

106 HISTORY OF

that age) of "Santa Guglielma", "Santa Domi-
tilla", "The Prodigal Son", and "St. Francis".

LUCRETIA TORNABUONI, the admirable
mother of Lorenzo de' Medici, to ^vhom he
largly owed his fine education and literary
proclivities, was herself the author of many
Hymns or Sacred Songs. To her suggestion
w^e also owe the celebrated "Morgante" of Lui-
gi Pulci.

CRISTINA DA PIZZANO, so boldly claim-
ed by the French for their Literature, w^as nev-
ertheless an Italian woman of this age, who,
as the daughter of a scientist in the service of
Charles V of France, became identified wth a
foreign nation. Her writings comprise poems,
a military treatise entitled "The Mutations of
Fortune", and a "Life of Charles Y."

NOVELLA D' ANDREA lectured upon Canon
Law^ in Bologna. Isabella d'Aragona, duchess
of Milan, and Elisabetta d' Urbino were generous
patrons of learning, as eminent for their perso-
nal accomplishments as by their birth. Alessaa-
draScala-was a proficient not only in the Latin,
but the Greek tongue, several of her Greek poems
having appeared in the published writings of
Poliziano.

But of yet greater celebrity is the wonderful
Cassandra Pit/e/e of Venice, whose life completed

ITALIAN LITERATURE 107

the full century from 1458 to 1558 She is
described as being "all enthusiasm, science and
piety, from infancy addicted to elevated studies,
never wearing gold or gems, but always dressing
in white and veiled as to the head." Admired
by all Italy, and adored by the Venetians, whom
she astounded by her classical and theological
erudition and enchanted with her improvisa-
tions in music and verse, other courts contended
for the honor of her presence, so that the Vene-
tian Senate solemnly decreed that "the republic
could not afford to be deprived of its most
beautiful ornament." Gian Bellini was com-
missioned to produce her portrait when she had
not completed sixteen years, that is, says the
historian, "a brush whose natural delicacy was
in harinony with its subject was sought for the
painting of a physiognomy almost infantile,
yet already charmingly inspired". The "Letters
and Orations" of Cassandra Fidele were pub-
lished at Pavia in 1636. Her greatest admirers
were Poliziano and Lorenzo de' Medici, and all
the authorities are careful to give extracts from
a letter of the former to the latter, in which
there is a most glowng description of the
famous w^oman's powers of conversation and
magnetic personality. Outliving the spirit o
her own age, she continued to the last to be
venerated throughout Italy, and was resorted

108 HISTORY OF

to by all as a living monument of a glorious
era.

LEO BATTISTA ALBERTI, — 1490, was a
type of those comprehensive men of genius who
are found only in Italy. At the age of twenty
he wrote a Comedy called "Philodoxius", which
passed for a genuine antique. Of music he was
a thorough master; he painted pictures and
wrote three books on painting, practiced archi-
tecture and compiled ten books on building.
The churches of Sant' Andrea at Mantua and
San Francesco at Rimini are the w^orks of his
genius. He mastered mechanics and devised
machinery for raising sunken ships, studied
Natural Science and anticipated several import-
ant modern discoveries. To crown his gifts he
was a charming conversationalist, and the
circle of great men around the princely Lorenzo
de' Medici would not have been complete with-
out his bright and fascinating presence.

CRISTOFORO LANDINO ( 1424 - 1504 )
shared with Ficino in the honor of instructing
Lorenzo de' Medici in his boyhood. Later, Lan-
dino taught Rhetoric, Poetry and Latin Litera-
ture in the University of Florence. His scholar-
ship found expression in several able transla-
tions, but his chief claims upon the world's atten-
tion are his "Camaldolese Discussions", (in which

ITALIAN LITERATDRE 109

after the manner of the Ciceronian dialogues he
describes the social conversation of the famous
Medicean circle) and his voluminous Commen-
tary upon Dante, which is not only a valuable
work in itself, but a sign of the times, pointing
to the gradual abeyance of the ancient authors
and a recognition of Italy's modern productions.

ALDO MANUZIO was born near Velletri in
1450, studied Latin and Greek under the most
famous teachers of the age, and became the
tutor of the nephews of the great Pico della Mi-
randola. Love of learning increased with years
and finally Aldo conceived the project of estab-
lishing a Greek press and printing the whole
literature of Greece. His house became a Greek
Colony, so many scholars were employed in the
various departments of the work, w^hile Aldo
himself superintended every thing and was the
life and soul of the vast undertaking. The
result of all this toil was that no more beautiful
books have ever been printed than those which
issued from the Aldine press in Venice; Aldo still
stands his ground as the greatest publisher
that ever lived, and his labors rounded out the
revival of Learning and inaugurated the bril-
liant era of the Renaissance.

The life of GIROLAMO SAVONAROLA
(1452-1498) having been immortalized by the

110 HISTORY OF

pen of genius, and having no real place in lite-
rary biography, we touch upon it here only to
note the self-sufficiency of the Italians. The cry
of Reform comes to them from within the pale
of their own land, and no one has ever denounc-
ed the sins and errors of this brilliant period
with more fervor than Fra Girolamo. But his
zeal for moral reform was coupled w^ith a pas-
sionate love of political liberty, and the people
instigated by the admirers of Piero de' Medici
turned against their benefactor and had him
burned at the stake. Savonarola was one of
the greatest men Italy has ever produced; his
teachings were far in advance of his age; he was
the forerunner of Protestantism in all that
relates to spiritual development, and he is yet
in advance of the civilized world as to his poli-
tical ideas and their vital connection with mo-
rality. Of course the Sermons of Savonarola are
as far as possible removed from literary efforts.
They are always coloquial, and have the air of
vehement harangues. In his passion for reform,
however, he did not ignore the power of litera-
ture, but labored constantly to substitute Songs
that were pure and devout tor the wild and
reckless poems of the period. Mrs. Stowe says
the Hyms of the Dominican friar combine the
quaintness of the Moravians with the purity of

ITALIAN LITERATURE HI

Wesley, and calls our attention to these strong
and touching verses :

" Jesus, best comfort of my soul,

Be thou my only love.
My sacred Saviour from my sins,

My door to Heaven above !
O lofty goodness, love divine,

Blest is the soul made one with thine !

Alas, how oft this sordid heart
Hath wounded thy pure eye !
Yet for this heart upon the cross
Thou gav'st thyself to die !

Ah, would I were extended there
Upon that cold, hard tree.
Where I have seen thee, gracious Lord,
Breathe out thy life for me !

Cross of my Lord, give room, give room.
To thee my flesh be given !
Cleansed in thy flres of love and pain.
My soul rise pure to Heaven !

Burn in my heart, celestial flame.
With memories of him.
Till from earth's dross refined, I rise
To join the seraphim.

Ah, vanish each unworthy trace
Of earthly care or pride.
Leave only graven on my heart.
The Cross, the Crucified " I

1460-1600.

CHAPTER III.

Writers of the Renaissance.

Part I. - The Dawn.

Lorenzo de' Medici, the restorer of Italian
Literature, was one of those favored mortals
upon whom fortune showers everything she
has to give. From his celebrated grandfather,
Cosmo de' Medici, he inherited enormous wealth,
the most conspicuous position in Florence, schol-
arly tastes, learndd friends and political pres-
tige. From his gifted Mother, Lucrezia Torna-
buoni, he inherited the love of Art, literary abil-
ity and religious aspiration, early emulating
the shining example which she placed before
him.

His most eminent instructors were Marsilio
Ficino and Cristoforo Landino, two of the
profoundest scholars of that brilliant age, and
he grew up in intimate friendship with Angelo
Politiano,the greatest of all the revivers of learn-

ITALIAN LITERATURE 113

ing. At the age of 21, for reasons of State and
in obedience to his father's wishes, Lorenzo
married Clarice Orsini, of the noble and power-
ful Roman family of that name, winning new^
laurels for his fame as an irreprochable and
devoted husband and a fond and tender father
to his many children.

As we follow him through the lights and
shadows of a stirring political life, twice but
narrowly escaping assassination from bitter
enemies; deciding the destinies of Italy, founding
the magnificent Laurentian and Ricardi Libra-
ries, the first Public Libraries in the w^orld;
gathering around him all the scholars and
authors of the age, opening new paths in litera-
ture with his own pen, easily excelling in every-
thing he undertook, we cannot but be thrilled
wth unbounded admiration.

It is not our place here to decide whether
Lorenzo undermined the liberties of Florence.
Such a man can never escape envy; death and
the grave afford him no refuge; he must be pur-
sued forever.

On the other hand, we must not be dazzled
by the brilliancy of Lorenzo's achievements and
imagine with Roscoe that his literary work
bears favorable comparison with that of Dante
and Petrarch. He deserves the greatest praise,
not only for encouraging learning and literature

114 HISTORY OF

but for leading the way, himself, in these noble
pursuits. The great variety of his styles of writ-
ing, the originality of some of them, and the
intrinsic merits of all furnish scope enough
for praise and admiration, without calling in
the aid of comparison.

"The Forests of Love; the 0 vidian allegory
entitled "Ambra" (which was the name of an
island near one of Lorenzo's villas and is the
same theme chosen by Poliziano for one of his
Latin poems); the " Altercazione", a poem ex-
planatory of the Platonic philosophy; the "Nen-
cia of Barberino", in which Lorenzo appears as
the inventor of a literary style, being the first
person to adapt the rustic dialect, called in
Italian the lingua contadinesca, to poetry; Car-
nival Songs; "The Beoni", i. e. "The Drunk-
ards", being the first satire in the language, and
a stern reprehension of drunkenness; Sonnets,
Lyrics, Hymns and Moral Poems are the titles
of Lorenzo's most important writings. It is
evident that there is scarcely any style which he
did not attempt, and his language is generally
in perfect harmony with his subject.

His prettiest Sonnet is that in which the
violets account for their purple color; and there
are strong and beautiful passages in the "Al-
tercazione".

But perhaps Lorenzo would not have been

ITALIAN LITERATURE 115

known by the title of "The Magnificent", had
it not been for his munificent patronage of Art,
and especially for his fostering care of the young
Michaelangelo. It was permitted to the great-
est of the Medici to identify the name with the
most glorious outburst of creative genius known
to the modern world. Lorenzo's own residences
were adorned with the finest trophies of ancient
and modern Art, and the sternest imaginations
are captivated by the accounts of his princely
villas. Surrounded by poets, scholars philoso-
phers and artists, the versatile genius of the
great commoner inspired, encouraged, rewarded
all; Lorenzo thus setting the example which
was so splendidly followed by his son, Giovanni
de' Medici, when he was elevated to the papal
throne under the name of Leo X.

Laigi Palci, 1431 - 1490, bore the most il-
lustrious name of an illustrious family. One of
his brothers, Luca Pulci, celebrated in verse the
same "Tournament" of which Poliziano sung.
Another brother, Bernardo Pulci, w^rote a poem
on the Passion of Christ and translated the Ec-
logues of Yirgil. Antonia Pulci, the wife of Ber-
nardo, we have already noticed among the
Learned Women of the age. The whole family,
living in Florence, enjoyed an intellectual fami-
liarity with the great Lorenzo de' Medici; Luigi
Pulci being entrusted with diplomatic missions

116 HISTORY OF

by Lorenzo, and his greatest poem being sug-
gested to him by the Mother of Lorenzo.

This poem, entitled "The Giant Morgante,"
created an era in the literature of chivalry.

The critic Rajna says: "Immense is the
distance which separates Pulci from his pre-
decessors". " The odd Florentine ", as he was
called, was an innovator, a reasoner, a philo-
sopher. Like most men of original genius, he
has evoked harsh and unrelenting criticism.
Dealing altogether with the heroes of the Carlo-
vingian cycle, he has dared to give free play to
his faith as well as to his imagination, and does
not hesitate to mingle the most sacred with the
most profane themes. This has offended the
narrow - minded and the fearful, while it seems
to me a marvelous foretelling of the unity in
human destiny. Pulci does, indeed, preserve the
naivet€ of the old trouv^res, and perhaps adds a
laughter of his own, while he often makes undis-
guised fun of the Church and its dignitaries.
But there is no systematic disparagement of
any kind in his work, and there are innumerable
tributes of beauty and pathos to religion.

Of course Orlando, Charlemagne's renowned
nephew^, is the true hero of the poem, and its
humor and irony begin in its very title, as much
as to point out the absurdity of having any
hero but Orlando.

ITALIAN LITERATURE 117

It is Orlando who starts out to attack the
pagans, and, coming upon an Abbey filled with
monks who live in terror of three giants, kills
the two who refuse the Christian faith, and
walks off with a devoted convert in Morgante.
The good giant kills a wild boar for the abbot
and monks and brings them water from the
fountain which their foes had guarded.

" The monks rejoice at sight of the full vase,
But more when now they spy the mighty boar ;
Since every animal for food will race ;
The breviaries now are left to snore :
Each labors with his might and beaming face,
So that this flesh no salt receives ; to store
Is out of question — it would mould away ;
And fasts are not the order of the day.
They all but burst their bodies at one stroke.
And bolt away to make the platter clean.
The dog and cat are grieved at such a folk.
Who leave the bones all polished to a sheen".

In reward for his services the abbot gives
Morgante a fine horse, but ofcourse it breaks
down under the giant, and very ridiculous is
the account given. The horse having been un-
willing to carry him, Morgante says he will
carry the horse (dead) into the woods, as he is
anxious to prove himself a Christian and return
good for evil. Asking Orlando's aid in getting
the horse on his back, Orlando tells Morgante
to look out that the horse does not avenge him-
self as did Nessus when dead. In reply Mor-

118 HISTORY OF

gante carries oflf not only the horse, but the
belfry and the bells.

Another episode of pure buffoonery is that
of Margutte, a half- giant, and the monkey.
Morgante plays a trick on Margutte, while
sleeping, of drawing off his shoes and stockings
and hiding them. On wakiag, Margutte searches
for them some time and then sees that a monkey
is putting them on and taking them off over and
over again. Whereupon Margutte gets to laugh-
ing so that he bursts asunder.

" A great bombardment seems to fill the air.
Such was the thunder of the dreadful erash,
Morgante ran to see Margutte there
Where he had heard that something went to smash.
Alas ! he grieves enough at weaving such a snare.
When now he sees he's given him such a gash.
For well the monkey shows him that his friend
Has died of laughing and has reached his end".

This, then, seems to be the origin of the
well-known expression, "I thought I should
die of laughing".

In the midst of ribaldry and fun Pulci's clas-
,sical learning makes delightful reading for the
scholar. He is full ot allusions to Ovid and Vir-
gil, often indeed giving the interpretations im-
mortalized by Dante. We have noticed the
allusion to Nessus. Returning to the adventures
of Orlando, we find the death of his good steed,
Vegliantin, greatly grieving him, for in the days

ITALIAN LITERATURE 119

of knight-errantry the horses had almost as
much individuality as the men. Vegliantin has
been such a faithful friend, that Orlando hum-
bly craves his pardon before he breathes his last.

" Says Turpin, (which seems marvelous, aside,)

That as Orlando, "Pardon me", entreats.

This dying beast his eyelids opened wide.

And with his head and limbs performed such feats.

That in him yet Orlando did confide.

Perhaps in answer to his own heart -beats.

Thus "Pyramus and Thisbe at the fount"

Was acted by Vegliantin and the Count ".

Pulci also reflects the spirit of his age when
he makes the demon Astarotte reason on sub-
jects of philosophj- and theology; when he
alludes to a contrition as great as that of St.
Francis when he received the stigmata, and
when he calls Orlando "God's athlete, true
champion, perfect archimandrite ".

It is in the account of Orlando's death, how-
ever, that Pulci rises to his greatest height
both as a poet and a narrator. That death in
Roncisvalle, caused by envy and treachery so
foul, is, perhaps, too familiar to need more than
an allusion. (*) It is in the matter of Orlando's
final orisons that -we come upon much to move

(*) See my "Studies in Criticism", Pages 44-47.

120 HISTORY OF

and uplift us. Among other beautiful stanzas
I find:

" Eedeemer Thou of miserable mortals !

Who didst humiliate thyself for man ;

Who, looking not upon sin and its portals,

Incarnate in the Virgin, loosed our ban.

Upon ths day that Gabr'el from th' immortals

Did spread his wings and then make known the plan.

As best it pleases Thee, thy slave release,

Only to Thee, Lord, let me come in peace ".

And passing on, we again encounter such
touching words as :

"Place now, O Lord, I beg, thy hand in mine.

Draw me from out this labyrinthine fray.

Because Thou art our pellican divine.

Who for thy cruciflers e' en didst pray.

Well do I know that all our life in fine

Is naught but vanity, as sages say.

What have I from the world to Thee brought back?

Of sin alone Thou knowst there is no lack ".

The writer of such lines will never be dislod-
ged from our hearts. For his learning, for his
veneration for Dante, for his daring attempt to
show that religion can stand upon its ow^n mer-
its, and must and will penetrate every portion
of our life, we will cherish and honor the name
of Luigi Pulci.

Matteo Maria Boiardo, Count of Scandia-
no, was born at his ancestral home near Fer-
rara in 1434. Fortune smiled upon the young
nobleman, and the advantages of a thorough
education enabled him to shed lustre upon his

ITALIAN LITERATURE 121

social position. Marrying a daughter of the
Count of Novellara, he lived in friendly relations
with the House of Este, and at different periods
filled the positions of Governor of Reggio and
Modena.

In spite of his court -life, Boiardo was an
indefatigable writer, forcibly illustrating the
passion for literary fame which then dominated
Italy. A thorough Greek and Latin scholar, he
made able translations from Herodotus, Xen-
ophon and Lucian in Greek, and from Apuleius
and Cornelius Nepos in Latin.

But not content with proofs of scholarship,
Boiardo bent himself to the production of origi-
nal w^orks, and appears in Literature as the
author of a comedy entitled "Timon", several
volumes of lyric poems, a History of the Empire,
and last, but by no means least, the celebrated
epic, "Orlando Innamorato".

Seldom has any work been so fully appreciated
as has this famous poem. Contemporary
historians tell us that it was read and admired
by everyone. Uniting the cycles of Arthur and
Charlemagne, and welding the mythology and
poetry of antiquity with those of mediaevalism,
Boiardo shows us the Italian genius in its splen-
dor-loving, declamatory, sensitive character.
Tho' an unfinished work, the "Orlando Innamo-
rato" marks an epoch in Italian Literature and

122 HISTORY OF

is to be considered the first compact, dignified,

well elaborated epic of chivalry; and having

been entirely rewritten by Berni, and serving as

the inspiration of Ariosto's muse, it comes down

to us with a triple halo of glory.

Few now- a- days, of course, ever read the

whole of the almost endless story. But as we

turn its pages we discover the charms which

verify the critics' verdicts. Hallam dwells upon

the poem's splendid and imposing opening. And

here we find :

" King Charlemagne with joyous, beaming face,

'Midst paladins upon a seat of gold.

The rounded table well indeed did grace :

Before.Mw were the Saracens so bold,

Who do not wish support from bench, or^ brace,

But lie stretched out as mastiffs fierce and old,

On carpets, lazily, in sloth and ease.

Despising France and all that would France please".

Rajna calls attention to that wealth of
classical learning which the Count of Scandiano
always had at his command; and this is well
illustrated in Orlando's soliloquy after he has
first seen the fair Angelica :

" I cannot from my heart bid disappear
The pleasing picture of that lovely face.
Such is my plight, to die I long and fear,
My very soul of strength has lost all trace ;
Nor force, nor boldness will avail me here,
For love ev'n now has won the desp'rate race ;
Nor aids me knowledge, nor another's view,
I see the good and still the ill pursue ".

ITALIAN LITERATURE 123

And not only is Ovid called to the rescue in
quotation : whole episodes are taken from Ho-
mer. Boiardo makes the well-known hero,
Ruggiero, proclaim himself a direct descendant
of Astyanax, and this necessitates references to
the perfidious Sin on, the beautiful Polyxena,
the false Egisthus, "the island of fire", as Sicily
is called, from "the flame which Mongibello
threw", and all of this is an expression of that
culture in which the Renaissance reveled and
gloried.

The Fourth Canto of the Second Part of
the "Innamorato" relates a very amusing epi-
sode. Orlando finds himself entrapped in an
enchanted garden, and his efforts to get out are
desperate and bloody. At last, after we have
followed him through peril after peril, and new
foes still arise, and we almost give up, w^ith
breathless and painful interest we find him fight-
ing two sentinels on a bridge. As soon as Or-
lando beats them down, they rise again, for,
you know, they are enchanted. All of a sudden
it occurs to him to run away, and of course he
thinks the sentinels will run after him. But no,
indeed ! The charm w^hich created them holds
them there perpetually; and we are indeed forc-
ed to laugh, when we discover that the Count
might have spared himself all this display of
valor.

124 HISTORY OF

The Italians are always absorbed in persons
and passions; hence it is noteworthy when w^e
come upon any descriptions of natural scenery
or any sympathy with animals, and I find much
to please in a stanza w^hich tells us of:

" The sweetest plains and lovely little hills,
With noble woods of pine and lofty flr,-
Where on green branches birds give forth their trills
In lively strains, which soothe, but do not stir.
And pleasure from the hares and deer instills
Your heart, and gentle thoughts will now recur.
As on the graceful beasts your gaze is turned.
And all the garden with delight's adorned ".

Still rarer is any allusion to the political
condition of Italy. Hence we cherish the lines
with which the "Innamorato" breaks off, mark-
ing the sad era of Charles YIII 's descent upon
Florence ( Nov. 1494, a few w^eeks before the
author's death ) and voicing the sorrow of her
disfranchised sons :

" While I am writing, O my Lord and God,

I see all Italy in flame and flre.

Made by these Gauls, who come with val'rous sword

To desecrate and waste us in their ire.

With Fiordespina's foolish love I wooed,

And now must hush my fond and tender lyre.

Another time, it may be, kindly fate

Will let me her whole story here relate ".

Avignette of Leonardo da Vincf (1452-1519)
is given as the frontispiece to a well known En-
glish book entitled " The Intellectual Life ". It
would convey the author's meaning, w^ere w^e

ITALIAN LITERATURE 125

debarred a reading of his pages. But in the
course of his work Mr. Hamerton again calls
our attention to the fact that Leonardo da Vin-
ci mastered all the learning of his age, and is,
therefore, the only person whom the w^orld has
pronounced " Completely educated ".

The child of a disgraceful union, the young
Florentine soon evinced such extraordinary
gifts in drawing and modeling, that Painters
were only too ready to instruct him, and at an
early age we find the winning, fair -haired youth
in special favor with Lorenzo the Magnificent.
Under such favorable auspices Leonardo drew,
painted, modeled , and dilated upon architectural
and engineering projects to the astonishment of
all who heard him; " flinging himself ", as one
of his biographers says, "upon such studies
with an unprecedented passion of delight and
curiosity". The imagination loves to dwell upon
his "all-capable and dazzling youth".

From this time on Leonardo's genius was
recognized by the v\rhole of Italy. The despot of
Milan, the famous Ludovico il Moro (as the
third great Sforza was called) delighted to
engage him in his service, and it w^as during the
first fifteen years that Leonardo lived at Milan
that he painted the mighty and immortal fresco
of The Last Supper. After the French took
Milan, Leonardo traveled as engineer in the

126 HISTORY OF

employ of Caesar Borgia. Another period of
honorable and ceaseless activity in Florence
followed, and then again we find the indefatiga-
ble worker back in Milan, upon the restoration
of the Sforzas.

But in 1515 Francis I conquered Milan,
and thereupon persuaded Leonardo, now in his
64th year, to return w^ith him to France. A fine
old castle was assigned Da Vinci, and the court
of France was made to offer homage at the
shrine of genius. The world has always been
ready to acknowledge this beautiful and touch-
ing tribute, and the story of Leonardo's dying
in the arms of Francis I has been caught up and
perpetuated. The truth of the story lies in the
fact that the great commoner did pass away
recognized, honored and revered by this power-
ful potentate.

The earliest complete painter of the Renais-
sance, it is not for us to dwell here upon the
incomparable w^orks of Art with which the
world identifies the name of Leonardo da Vinci.
Literature claims him as her son chiefly w^ith
reference to unpublished Mss. fourteen volumes
of w^hich are in the Library of the Institute at
Paris and more still in the Ambrosian Library
at Milan. His "Treatise on Painting", trans-
lated into many languages, was published a
century after Leonardo's death but the "Frag-

ITALIAN LITERATURE 127

ments" of his works given to the world by his
fellow - countryman, Venturi , constitute his
most brilliant claim to literary distinction. From
these scholars have pronounced him facile
princeps as painter, sculptor, architect, musician,
mechanician, engineer, anatomist, botanist,
physiologist, astronomer, chemist, geologist,
geographer, explorer and mathematician.

And this universal genius was accompanied
by a joyous, charming personality, so that the
name of Leonardo da Yinci stands unsullied by
one selfish or unworthy passion. If he was the
Faust of the Renaissance, he was a Faust who
cared only for the Good, the True and the
Beautiful.

Baldassare Castjglione (1478-1529) is an
interesting figure in this age of boundless
ambition and marvelous achievement. Without
being a man of genius, he proved himself to be
a man of such taste and refinement, that men of
genius loved to gather around him. When very
young he became a man of letters and a polished
cavalier in Milan at the court of Ludovico il
Moro, and from this time on honors seemed to
pursue him. Passing from the court of Mantua,
under the marquis Francesco Gonzaga, to that
of Urbino, under the still more distinguished
Guidobaldoda Montefeltro, Castiglione display-
ed his versatility in acting a creditable part as a

128 HISTORY OF

soldier, in writing and reciting at court his
eclogue, "Thyrsis", and in going as an ambas-
sador to London, to receive in the name of Gui-
dobaldo the order of the garter from Henry VII.

After the death of Guidobaldo, in 1508,
Castiglione's fame was so firmly established
that the new duke, Francesco M. Delia Rovere,
entrusted to him the government of Gubbio,
took him w^ith him to his w^ars, and still later
gave him the castle of Novellara near Pesaro,
with the title of count. When Pope Julius II died,
Castiglione was Rovere's ambassador to the
Sacred College, and while in Rome enjoyed the
friendship of the most celebrated men of the age,
as Bembo, Bibbiena, Aretino and Raphael.

His old friend, the marquis of Gonzaga, no w
arranged a marriage for Count Baldassare, but
he does not seem to be permitted to enjoy
domestic felicity, as he is again named ambas-
sador to Rome, and also assists at the corona-
tion of the Emperor Charles V, his young wife
dying in his absence.

Passing through the brief pontificate of
Adrian VI, Castiglione receives from Clement
VII the post of apostolic protonotary and the
freedom of the marches, and is sent to Spain to
negotiate with Charles V at the most critical
juncture of aff'airs betwen the Pope, the Empe-
ror and the King of France. But while Charles

ITALIAN LITERATURE 129

V received Castiglione with favor and showed
him marks of esteem, he secretly broke faith
w^ith Rome and permitted an assault upon the
city and the imprisonment of the Pope. This
was a mortification from which Castiglione
could not recover. Charles tried to console him
by giving him the Spanish citizenship and the
rich bishopric of Avila, but Castiglione felt that
he had failed in this most important mission of
his life, and died of a broken heart, Feb. 8th,
1529.

The work by which Castiglione is remem-
bered is "The Courtier", or, as we would say,
"The Gentleman'*; a moral treatise in the form
of discussions among the learned people of the
day, as to what constitutes the true gentleman.
It was not published until 1528, but then by
the Aldine press at Venice, and soon became the
most popular book in Europe. The French
almost went wild with delight over it, having
feted Castiglione in Paris, and expressed their
admiration for him by naming one of its prettiest
streets after him. The Italians are the origina-
tors of nearly every style of English Literature,
but this is one of the rare occasions when they
furnish a model to the French.

It is a picture of the court of Guidobaldo of
Urbino that Castiglione paints in his happy
treatise, and to us the philosophical interest is

130 HISTORY OF

almost overshadowed by the historical. To give
some idea of the book I select the following
discourses :

(1. 27) "Then not waiting, Messer Bernar-
do Bibbiena said: It seems that our Messer Ro-
berto has only found one who w^ill praise the
fashion of his dancing, since all of you others
seem not to take any account of it; w^hen, if this
excellence consists in disdain and in showing
that he does not esteem and think more of
anything else than of what he is doing, Messer
Roberto in dancing has not an equal in the
world; since to show that he is not thinking of
you, he often lets the robe fall from his shoulders
and the slippers from his feet, and without
gathering up either, keeps on dancing all the
time. — Then the Count replies : Since you wsh
me to speak, I will speak still of our vices. Do
you not perceive that what in Messer Roberto
you call disdain is nothing but affectation?
Because one sees clearly that he forces himself
with every effort to show that he is not think-
ing of you : and this is thinking too much of
you: and when it passes certain limits of
mediocrity, this disdain is affected and vile, and
it is something which turns out exactly contrary
to one's presupposition, that is, of concealing
the art in it. But indeed I do not think there is
greater vice of affectation in disdain, which in

ITALIAN LITERATURE 131

itself is praiseworthy, letting the clothes fall
from its back, than in studied dressing, which
yet, of itself is praiseworthy, the carrying the
head so firm, for fear of spoiling the long hair,
or keeping in the bottom of the cap a looking-
glass and a comb in the sleeve, and to have the
page always on the road with a sponge and
brush; because this studied dressing and disdain
savour too much of extremes; which always are
vicious and contrary to that pure and lovable
simplicity, which is so pleasing to the human
mind.

You know how ungraceful a cavalier is when
he torces himself to sit so stiffly in the saddle, in
the Venetian style, as we are wont to say, in
comparison to another, who seems not to think
of anyone and sits on his horse as carelessly
and securely as if he were on foot. How much
more pleasing and to be praised is a gentleman
who carries arms and is modest, who speaks
little and boasts little, than another who is
alv/ays ready to praise himself and swearing
with courage, threatens the^world ! And this is
nothing else than the affectation of wishing to
appear brave. The same thing happens in every
exercise, rather in every thing that can be done
or said in the world ".

(1. 53) "I am sure you all know how the
French deceive themselves in deeming literature

132 HISTORY OF

inimical to arms. Yoa understand that of the
noble and adventurous things in war the true
stimulus is glory : and he -who takes to it for
gain or any other purpose, besides never doing
anything creditable, does not deserve to be
called a gentleman, but the vilest tradesman.
And that true glory is that which commits itself
to the sacred treasure of literature everyone can
understand except those unhappy ones who
have not tasted it. What mind is so weak,
timid and humble, that, reading of the deeds
and the greatness of Ca£sar, of Alexander, of
Scipio, of Hannibal and many others, is not in-
flamed with a most burning desire to be like
these, and does not neglect this frail life of two
days, to acquire that almost perpetual fame,
which, in spite of death, makes him live more
truly than he did before ? But he who does not
feel the charm of literature cannot know how
long glory is preserved byit,measuringthis sole-
ly with the life of one man or of two, because he
does not remember any more; therefore, provid-
ed that a personal knowledge of glory is not
forbidden him by some fault of his own, when
he attempts to think of glory as perpetual, he
simply lengthens the life of the one man; and
not esteeming such fame highly, it is reasonable
to believe he does not put himself to much
trouble to pursue it, as one who knows it does.

ITALIAN LITERATURE 133

I would not like any adversary to adduce the
contrary effects, to refute my opinion, alleging
the Italians with their knowledge of letters to
have shown little valor in arms for some time
past; which is only too true; but certainly one
might w^ell say the fault of a few has given,
besides grave iniury, perpetual blame to all the
others; and the true cause of our ruin and of the
valor w^hich is prostrate if not dead, is to be
found in our forefathers; but it would be still
more shameful in us to accuse the French of not
caring for literature. It is better, then, to pass
over in silence what one cannot recall without
grief, and avoiding this discussion, into which
I have entered against my will, to return to our
Courtier".

Here follows an interesting disquisition
upon the necessity of the Courtier's being both
learned and literary, when

(1. 55) Messer Pietro Bembo replies: I do
not know, Count, ho-vr you wish this Courtier,
being literary, and with so many other virtu-
ous qualities, to hold everything as an orna-
ment of arms, and not arms and the rest as an
ornament of literature; which, without other
company, is as much superior in dignity to arms
as the mind is to the body, the exercise of this
belonging to the mind as does that of arms to
the body. Then the count replies: The exercise of

134 HISTORY OF

arms belongs both to the mind and to the body.
But I do not wish you, Messer Pietro, to be the
judge of such a subject, for you are too much
inclined to one side: and this disputation having
been agitated at length by very learned men,
there is no need to renew it; but I hold it definite-
ly in favor of arms, and I wish our Courtier,
since I am able to form him at my w^ill, to think
so too. And if you are of a contrary opinion,
wait until you hear a disputation in which it is
permitted him who defends the cause of arms
to make use of arms; as those who defend litera-
ture make use of literature in its defence; since,
if everyone avails himself of his own instru-
ments, you will see that the literary will lose.

— Ah, says Messer Pietro; you have before
condemned the French for prizing letters too
little, and have said how they reveal glory and
make men immortal; and now it seems you
have changed your mind. You do not remember
that

" When Alexander to the famous tomb drew near
Of proud Achilles, sighing thus he spake ;
O fortunate wert thou to find a trump so clear,
And one who wrote of thee to make men quake."

And if Alexander envied Achilles, not for his
deeds, but for the fortune that lent him such
felicity that his deeds were celebrated by Homer,
it is easy to see that the writings of Homer

ITALIAN LITERATURE 135

should be more esteemed than the arms of
Achilles. What other judgment, then, or what
other opinion do you expect of the dignity of
arms or of literature, than that which was
given by one of the greatest captains that ever
lived?"

It is hard to tear oneself away from Casti-
glione. He is certainly a charming companion,
and we do not wonder that his contemporaries
thought him delightful. Even after death hon-
ors were heaped upon him, for Raphael painted
his portrait, Giulio Romano designed his tomb
and Pietro Bembo wrote its inscription.

In selecting /acopo Sannazzaro (1458-1530)
from among the hundred poets of this period,
we defer rather to the judgment of the critics
than to any discovery of our own. For Sannaz-
zaro's writings do not now^ justify the expecta-
tions excited by his historical reputation.

Born at Naples, of Spanish extraction and
noble family, Sannazzaro received a thorough
education, and the celebrated Pontano of Naples,
who was at the head of the Academy, admitted
the young scholar into the circle of learned men
and presented him at court. At a very early
age Sannazzaro had fallen passionately in love
w^ith a young girl named Carmosina Bonifacia,
and the first use that he made of his learning
■was to withdraw from society and begin the

136 HISTOBY OF

composition of his famous "Arcadia", which is
nothing more than the narration of his own
love. He had accompanied Alfonso of Naples
on several military expeditions and followed
Pontano to Rome before the first ten parts of
the "Arcadia" were divulged. It was at once
much admired, and Frederick of Aragon having
now become king of Naples, a beautiful villa
and a handsome pension were bestow^ed on the
poet. Finishing the "Arcadia" and editing the
w^orks of Pontano, Sannazzaro gave himself up
to literary pursuits, w^riting many sonnets,
canzoni and lyrics in Italian, and distinguishing
himself among his contemporaries by devoting
twenty years to his Latin poem on "The Nati-
vity".

The idea of the pastoral romance, as set
forth in the "Arcadia", was borrowed from
Portugal, but it was new in Italy; and this
novelty, coupled w^ith the revelation of the
author's own experience, will go far towards
accounting for its popularity. In this new style
of writing prose is intermingled with poetry,
and the critics say such smooth Italian had not
been written since the days of Boccaccio. To us
moderns the story seems tame and lifeless, and
it is with difficulty that, searching here and
there, I can find lines worth preserving. Those
presented by Sismondi seem to be the best and

ITALIAN LITERATURE 137

I refer my reader to Thomas Roscoe's exquisite
translation of the Elegy in the " Arcadia".

But the critics who admire the "Arcadia"
are even more enthusiastic over Sannazzaro's
latinity. It was still the starting-point, the
w^ay, the goal of fame to excel in writing Latin
verse. Purity, elegance and virgilian harmony,
we are told, characterize "The Nativity", and
Scaligero places Sannazzaro at the very head of
the scholars of this period. His poem must
always be contrasted w^ith the "Christiad" of
Girolamo Yida, who wrote a little later. Both
poets mingle the gods and goddesses of Grec-
ian mythology with the characters of Sacred
History, and the intrusion of this paganism of
the Renaissance into the Christian epic furnished
Milton w^ith his model in the execution of "Par-
adise Lost." The Italians thus suggested
that unification of the incongruous and inimical
elements of life which modern Philosophy pro-
nounces the end and aim of all knowledge.

Sannazzaro was the first writer to restore
the polished style of Petrarch, and I can sub-
stantiate this dictum by my enjoyment of his
Sonnets, two of which I translate as follows :

" 'Twas here Icarus fell : these waves relate
They welcomed in their arms th'audaoious plumes ;
Here finished he his course, th'event assumes
Proportions to rouse envy for his fate ;
A boon of fortune, and a grief t'elate,

138 HISTORY OF

Since dying, deathless fame his name illumes :
And happy is he who in death presumes
To find a recompense for his sad state.
Well may he with his ruin be content,
Since flying up to heaven was his aim,
With such great ardor life was quickly spent ;
And now resounds with his illustrious name
A sea so spacious, yes, an element :
Who on the earth so vast a tomb could claim ?

"Similar to this gigantic mountain,
Is my bitter life a load of sorrow ;
High is this, its height my wishes borrow ;
I have tears, and this a living fountain.
Bugged rocks it boasts its proud brows flaunt in.
Moods as hard and fierce my brow will furrow.
It for fruits looks towards an unseen morrow.
And effects as few my hopes must vaunt in.
While wild tempests roar amid its rocks.
So do sighs find exit from my breast :
When Love feed's on me; it feeds its- flocks ;
If I never change, it stands as fast ;
Transiently the bird its sorrow mocks.
But my lays of grief forever last ".

Sannazzaro never married, and left the record
of a blameless life, dying at the age of seventy -
two and "finding repose for his mortal remains
in the classic Parthenope, near the tomb of
Virgil, -whom he had revered as his master in
song". Mrs. Jameson tells us that his "Nati-
vity" exercised a pernicious influence on the
Italian painters, referring evidently to the
intrusion of those pagan ideas, which could not
possibly be properly interpreted in that age.

ITALIAN LITERATURE 139

Though the life of P/etro Bembo (1470-1547)
extends far into the sixteenth century, as a
writer he belongs as much to the Revival of
Learning as to the Renaissance. Hallam says
"Bembo prefers four claims to a niche in the
temple of fame, and we shall find none of them
ungrounded ". Of a noble Venetian family, his
father took him to Florence when he w^as eight
years old, and the critics think he began then to
perceive the merits of the Tuscan dialect. But
a much more important step in his youth was
his going to Messina to study Greek under the
great Constantine Lascaris. Bembo was a
magnificent student, and after learning to read
and even to w^rite Greek with facility, he studied
Philosophy at Padua and Ferrara, and return-
ing to Venice, became the idol of the literary
circle formed by Aldo Manuzio. Six years were
spent at the Court of Urbino, when with his
friend, Sadoleto, for a colleague, he was chosen
apostolic Secretary by Leo X. It must be con-
fessed that refined and highly cultivated as the
Italian Scholars were, they never dreamed of
making the world better by their wit and learn-
ing. The picture that is given us at this period
is of men reveling in luxurious living, devoted
to a heathen philosophy, and ambitious only
of writing pure Latin.

In 1529 the ofiice of Historiographer of the

140 HISORRY OF

Republic of Venice was bestowed on Bembo,
and he proved himself a master of Latin by
writing an admirable "History of Venice" in
that language. But the Italians owe him a debt
of everlasting gratitude for his efficacious
vindication of the native tongue. Bembo himself
translated his History into Italian, and also
came out with a plea for the revival of Italian
Literature, which among the learned was in
complete abeyance. His position enabled him
to speak with authority and obtain a hearing.
This plea is entitled "Italian Prose" and is yet
readable as a work of clever criticism. It seems
strange that Bembo, who was himself such a
shining light in the aristocracy of erudition,
should be the first person to break it up and
insist upon the study of the vernacular. His
fine mind expressed its originality in this w^ay,
for we do not find spontaneity or genius in his
writings.

" The Asolani", or Dialogues at Asola, are
love poems intermingled with prose discourses,
supposed to be the opinions of the Courtiers of
Caterina of Cornaro, the Queen of Cyprus. Ma-
ny short poems both in Latin and Italian
complete the list of Bembo's contributions to
Literature. Of these I feel tempted to transcribe
only one, — his Latin ode on the Death of Poli-
ziano, though it has been a rule with me so far

ITALIAN LITERATURE 141

to give nothing from the Latin. The Ode,
however, — so beautifully translated by Wm.
Roscoe — will be its own apology, and reads as
follows :

" Whilst borne in sable state, Lorenzo's bier
The tyrant Death, his proudest triumph, brings.
He marked a bard, in agony severe.
Smite with delirious hand the sounding strings.
He stopped, — he gazed ; — the storm of passion raged,
And prayers with tears were mingled, tears with grief ;
For lost Lorenzo, war with fate he waged.
And every god was called to bring relief.
The tyrant smiled, — and mindful of the hour
When from the shades his consort Orpheus led,
" Rebellious too wouldst thou usurp my power.
And burst the chain which binds the captive dead ? "
He spoke, — and speaking, launched the shaft of fate.
And closed the lips that glowed with sacred Are :
His timeless doom 'twas thus Politian met, —
Politian, master of the Ausonian lyre ".

While at Rome Bembo formed a friendship
with Sannazzaro, and was all his life intimately
associated with the distinguished Sadoleto,
both Bembo and Sadoleto being made cardinals
by Paul III in 1539. But though under the
influence of these superior men, it must be
recorded against Bembo that his life was not
pure and blamelesS'!^ as was" theirs. It is said
that in a folio in the archives of Ferrara may
yet be found a lovely lock of yellow hair, the
hair of Lucrezia Borgia, placed there by Pie-
tro Bembo. This admiration, however, w^as
of a wholly innocent character, while others

142 HISTORY OF

that we read of were not. With this exception,
Bembo's life of studious tranquility aw^akens
ardent enthusiasm, and it seems right and
fitting that his imposing presence should be
perpetuated by the gifted brush of Titian, in the
sumptuous and dramatic canvas entitled The
Presentation of the Virgin, now in the Academy
of Venice.

1600-1550.

CHAPTER IV.

The Writers of the Renaissance.

Part n, — The Golden Age.

THE PATRONS OP THE RENAISSANCE.
We pass very easily from Bembo to Pope Leo X
( 1513-1521) , his princely patron. Whatever
maybe said of Leo's political treachery in giving
Italy up to the Emperor Charles V, or of his
own inconsistent and JgsuriQ^^character, it is
not possible tor lovers of literature to forget his
splendid services to the cause so dear to them.
Leo was not answerable for Italy's political
servility, nor altogether responsible for the
morals transmitted to him. But he gave his
name to his age as the munificent encourager

ITALIAN LITERATURE 143

of Arts and Letters. Ralphael's greatest work
was done at the bidding of Leo. He gathered
around him Yida, Bembo, Trissino, Bibbiena,
Sadoleto, Ariosto, Macchiavelli and Paolo Gio-
vio. It is for later ages to reject the evil, the
superficial and frivolous features of this brilliant
period. But it can never cease to be interesting
to study the workings of the human mind when
set free from all restraint.

As Leo stands at the beginning of the Re-
naissance and gives it its impetus towards
paganism, so SIXTUS V (1584-1590) stands at
the end and restores it to Christianity. No Pope
ever did more to embellish and improve Rome.
Both as a politician and as a zealot Sixtus
distinguished his brief reign, and his efforts may
be said to have established the reputation of
the immortal Tasso.

The name of FRANCESCO BERNI ( 1495 -
1535) has been handed down to posterity with
a mixture of amusement and regret. Born at
Lamporechio in Tuscany of a noble family, but
one reduced to great poverty, his youth was
one of adventure and his life a true product of
the times. As an attempt to make his fortune
he entered the service of the celebrated Cardinal
Bibbiena, author of the drama "Calandra",
himself what we should call the stage-manager
of Leo X, and the director of carnivals and

144 HISTORY OF

masquerades. Berni says "Bibbiena never did
him either harm or good ".Of a jovial, rollicking
disposition, the needy youth passed his life in
going into the service of one great ecclesiastic
after another, and to further their projects took
orders in the church. The favor of Pope Clem-
ent Yfl and the patronage of Cardinal Ippolito
de' Medici (who in 1531 gave Berni a canonry
in Florence) seemed about to brighten the poor
poet's life. But unfortunately he arrived in
Florence at the height of the deadly feud be-
tween the Cardinal de' Medici and the Duke
Alessandro. Rival favorites were carrying out
their patrons' plans and Berni was ordered by
one of these to poison the other. Refusing to
commit the crime, Cardinal Cibo had Berni
himself poisoned on the IGth of May, 1535.

Berni's short and checkered life was solaced
by literary work, and in point of style he stands
at the head of the humorists of his country.
Although his original sonnets and lyrics show^
talent, his fame rests on his rendition of Boiar-
do's poem, the "Orlando Innamorato". Cantu
says; "For frank and suitable expression he
substituted general phraseology; to the indepen-
dence of a rich, vivacious nature he added the
decorum required by a more refines and less
spontaneous society; yet without creating
anything, he obliterated his predecessor. Such

ITALIAN LITERATURE 145

is the importance of style! " Such was the suc-
cess of that style, that it gave its name to
Literature, and the maniera Bernesca is as well
known among Italians as the names of those
immediate imitators who called themselves
the Berneschi.

Describing himself in the "Orlando Inn^mo-
rato", Berni says that "What he liked best to
do, was to do nothing at all". And though it
was a well known fact that he labored hard to
improve upon Boiardo, he has the effrontery to
declare :

"Nature instructs and points my way,
I write and speak without tlie aid of Art. "

As a characteristic passage from the "Or-
lando", I translate one selected by Harvard
University for an examination paper:

" But turn we to Einaldo who has heard
That deep, loud cry, so fraught with awful feq^,
By which, howe'er, he seems not to be stirred,
But leaps from off his steed and leaves in care
The palfrey to the lady, pale and tired.
And almost fainting from a foe so near.
Einaldo grasps the shield to bear all brunts,
— A giant of the giants he confronts.

Who firmly stood across a hidden road.
Under a cavernous and gloomy vault.
Of body fill ill-shaped and face so proud.
That well it ij^ight a mind less sound assault.
But not as o/feur cavalier endowed.
Who never in his life had had such fault.
Rather it speeds him on with sword in hand,
Where now his foe has firmly tak'n his stand.

146 HISTORY OF

He has for sword a club of fearful size,
With finest mail he is entirely armed.
Two frightful grifQns on each side arise,
Near the enchanted cave which so alarmed.
And if you want to know wherefores and whys
As to the life of monster so deformed,
You then must know he has in guard and ward
That steed, of which Argalia first had heard.

'Twas made, you know, solely by magic craft ;

Since out of fire and scintilations bright

A mare emerged ; at which it seems you laught.

For nature, we must own, has no such right,

And from the mare, when winds their powers had waft.

Was born the horse that is as swift as light,

Who wishes neither hay, nor corn, nor weeds.

Since only on the air this creature feeds,

The good Einaldo was the first to wound,
And strikes a blow right on the giant's head.
But on his head his helmet was so sound.
That little, nothing, did the blow, indeed.
With anger hot, and full of pride, he found
His foe now quickly aims to make Mm bleed.
Einaldo ably parries with his shield ;
Disarmed and bare, his body he will yield.

No other evil does this act entail ;
Einaldo makes a stroke of such dire force,
That mortal wounds the giant now assail.
And heart and side say ended is his course ".

This childish sportiveness is a marked feature
of Italian literature. We may encounter it
occasionally in other literatures, but here it
constitutes the badge and sign of a school, a
body of writers, who are distinguished on the
one hand by a vast erudition, and on the other
by this infantile levity.

ITALIAN LITERATURE 147

In Berni's biography, however, we find traces
of a deep seriousness. I observed this first in
Cantu's Literature , rather as an inuendo
indeed, than as a statement, and following it
up found the suggestion elaborated in Hallam.
Here to our surprise we find that Berni was one
of the first in Italy to embrace the doctrines of
the Reformation, and that his "Orlando" was
written to express his disapprobation of the
Church. The following stanzas from the 22nd.
Canto evidently allude to this :

"These fated dragons, these enchantments strange,
These gardens, books, and horns and dogs uncanny,
And giant men who thro' the wild wood range,
And beasts with human ways, and monsters many
Cannot expect the ignorant to change.
But if you have much intellect, or any.
You'll see the doctrine which is here concealed.
Under these coverings not to be revealed.

For things so beautiful, made to adorn.
That man with hints and scents may be beguiled.
Uncovered in the hand should not be borne.
Lest by the swine they may thus be defiled.
From nature one these truths may surely learn.
Which has its fruits and treasures amply mailed
With thorns and residue, bones, arms and bark.
Against the violence and threatening work

Of heaven and of animal and bird ;

And has the gold concealed beneath the earth.

Jewels and pearls, whose price is not in word,

Secret to men, that they may learn their worth.

And he is in his dotage and absurd,

Who, having treasures, brings them boldly forth,

Calling on murderers and such as these.

The thieves and jades, to spoil him at their ease.

148 HISTORY OF

And so I beg you do not stop with this,
Th'exterhal part, but look beyond and o'er.
Since few advances have you made towards bliss
Did you believe us to be nothing more.
And reasons good you'd have to hold these less
Than weakest dreams and mere romantic lore.
But in these days each one must dig for wit,
And labor, subtilize and strive for it.

Then when the Odyssey, perchance, you read,

With horrid and despairing wars well stocked.

And there some wounded god is made to bleed,

And often 'tis a goddess ; be not shocked,

For something else 'tis meant that you should heed,

Which is from fools and numskulls sealed and locked,.

The stupid crowd, as animals they seem.

Nor see but what's beneath their nose, I deem ".

One other point remains to be made, i, e,
whether a translator can convey the subtle dif-
ferences in a verse written by Boiardo and
remodeled by Berni. I select the 35th. of the
1st. Canto :

Boiardo's version :

"Ah mad Orlando " ! in his heart he says,
" How dost thou let thyself at will be swayed ?
Dost thou not see the error which dismays.
And so to sin against thy God has made?
Where does my fortuue lead me with this phase?
I see myself ensnared and can't evade.
I, who esteemed the world a thing of naught,
Am conquered by a girl in arms untaught ".

Berni's version :

" Ah mad Orlando, folly with thee pleads.
To what art thou transported at thy will?
Dost thou not see the error which misleads,
And so toward thy God does make thee fail?

ITALIAN LITERATURE 149

Where is thy courage, where thy bold brave deeds,
"Which made the world a hero in thee hail?
Thy banner 'gainst that world thou couldst unfurl,
And now thou art the pris'ner of a girl '".

Of all the disgraceful names in universal
literature, that of Pietro Aretino probably heads
the list. Born of immoral parents, with noble
blood (so called) in his veins, a vagabond from
earliest infancy, the outraged and neglected boy
grew to manhood to find himself in the posses-
sion of an extraordinarily brilliant and superior
intellect. Very early in life noblemen, cardinals,
princes, Popes and foreign potentates began to
flatter and caress him, needing his wit to enliven
their dulness, and being charmed with his
talents and audacity.

Like Berni, Aretino was not able to under-
stand the theology of this unsettled age, and be-
ing averse to the dogmatism which universally
prevailed, and inclined to immorality, he gave
himself up to a life of free - thinking and un-
paralleled impudence.

Without the possession of so much as a
name, (for Aretino simply means a native of
Arezzo, and there were five other celebrities
know^n by this title, though each of these had a
surname) Pietro educated himself by binding
books, and began his literary career by writing
a satirical sonnet against Indulgences. Patro-
nized by Cardinal Chigi, Leo X and Giuliano

150 HISTORY OF

de' Medici, Aretino soon became so powerful
that, as Cantu says, "he could play the part of
the assassin, and, accosting unarmed people on
the way, exclaim, "Your purse, or I will kill you
with a sonnet". When driven from Rome for
having written certain obscene sonnets to ac-
company a set of designs by Giulio Romano, the
court declared that with Pietro's going, "Rome
itself seemed to lose life".

Writing things which an upright man does
not dare to write, shameless and unscrupulous,
Aretino became a terror, and took the title of
"the divine", and again, "scourge of princes".
Clement VII, Charles V, Francis I and Henry
VIII bought him off v\rith enormous sums of
money and special acts of courtesy and favor.
In such an age it is thought remarkable that he
was not put out of the way; but we only hear
of one attack upon his life, a low, disgusting
quarrel, from which he escaped with five stiletto
thrusts. After living in Arezzo, Perugia, Rome
and Milan, Aretino took refuge in'^Venice, whose
citizens conferred on him the first rank of the
gonfalonierato, or magistracy. Exchanging bon-
mots and witticisms with many of the great
writers of the day, Paolo Giovio, who had the
Greek and Latin learning which Aretino lacked
and yet could not acquire a tithe of his fame,

ITALIAN LITERATURE 151

let his wrath boil over in publishing premature-
ly a suitable Epitaph for Aretino :

"Here lies the Tuscan poet, Aretino,
"Who spoke evil of everyone but Christ, "
Excusing himself by saying, ' I did not know him. '

To which Aretino immediately rejoined :

" Here lies Giovio, a remarkably distinguished poet.

Who spoke evil of everyone but the ass.

Excusing himself by saying, "he is my nearest relative."

With a few^ exceptions, howerer, Aretino
seems to have been on the best of terms with
his fellow -writers. Bertucci dedicated Madri-
gals to "the most divine signor Pietro Aretino."
Ariosto grouped him among those upon whom
Italy prided herself. The city of Arezzo declared
him noble, and honorary magistrate. There is
a volume of Letters in his praise. And his
contemporaries, not content with thinking of
making him a prince and a cardinal, denominat-
ed him the fifth evangelist.

After studying the biographical data, it is a
surprise to find that the ignoble and unworthy
w^ritings of Aretino may all be consigned to
oblivion and there will yet be left writings great
and w^orthy enough to make any name memo-
rable. The Italian stage, so poor thus far in
dramatic composition, found in Aretino the
author of its first great tragedy. Above the

152 HISTORY OF

"Rosmunda" of Rucellai (1) and the "Sopho-
nisba" of Trissino (2) all authorities place the
"Orazia" of Aretino, "where the demands of
history are combined with those of the stage,
and the simplicity of the story relieved by spectac-
ular effect, duties are placed in contrast with
passions, the local colorings are w^ell used,
giving us the example of the historical drama
w^ith full and effective action, such as forms the
glory of Shakespeare ".

Though incapable of translation "L'Ora-
zia" may be paraphrased as: "The Sister of
the Horatii". Founded upon the w^ell known
Roman legend, it needs no introduction. I shall
simply translate the admirable synopsis given
by Torraca.

"The Sister of the Horatii" is in blank
verse, with the exception of the prologue recited
by Fame and of the choruses rendered by the
Virtues at the close of each of the five Acts.

— Spurius discourses with Publius , the
father of the Horatii, who is happy over his

(1) The "Eostnunda" of Eucellai (1475-1526 (was
performed before Leo X in 1515. It is taken from the
History of the Lombards, and has been worked up in
modern times by Alfleri.

(2) "The "Sofonisba" of Trissino (1478-1540) is the
first regular tragedy of modern literature. It is taken
from Livy, and Trissino's Play has been obliterated by
Alfleri's.

ITALIAN LITERATURE 153

sons' having been chosen to sustain the rights
of Rome; but his joy is disturbed by one
thought:

^'Perhaps at this moment the arrow of one of the Horatii

Is breaking the faith and the sacrament

Of the unconsummated marriage

Between his unhappy brother-in-law and his sister".

The priest Marcus Valerius arrives, exhorting
him to be strong, and telHng him how the Ro-
man and Alban armies have sworn to condi-
tions of agreement. All three go to seek the
Fathers, to whom Marcus, by command of the
king, bears the tablets on which are written
the conditions, the sharp stone and the herbs
which are used for the solemn sacrifice of a
wild - boar. Celia expresses to her Nurse, wrho
tries in vain to comfort her, her trouble, com-
batted as it is by her affection for her brother
and her country and her love for her husband.
She relates also a vision in which she seemed to
see three violent winds, with black and horrid
aspect, extinguish two torches, but these are
set on fire and reduced to ashes by a third
torch. The Nurse counsels Celia to commend
herself to Jove and both enter the temple. Act. I.
— Publius comes out of the temple with Spu-
rius, because his heart, which ought to be intent
upon •' Divine worship and prayer to God,"

154 HISTORY OF

"Is, instead, not there where I shelter my sons", says he,
"But here where our fate hangs in the balance of their

[swords" ;

and also because all eyes are fixed upon him.
Titus Tazius arrives in haste and tells them
about the duel which has happened. Publius is
consoled for the death of his two sons, thinking
of the glory of the third and the victory for his
country. The Nurse comes to call Publius
because Celia, having heard of the death of
her husband, weeps and despairs. Publius,
although afflicted with grief for his daughter,
tries to console her; but she, calling for her
Curiatio, swoons. Act. II.

— Publius leaves the Nurse to divert

" Her who loves her consort dead
More than herself living " ;

and goes with Spurius towards Porta Capena,
whence noises and sounds of joy are heard.
A Slave by command of the conquering Horatio
hangs the spoils of the Curiatii at the door of
the temple of Minerva. Celia, hearing the
applauses of the universally festive throng, goes
out with her Nurse and hears from two persons
the praises of Oratio, that victory has not made
him proud, and of Publius, that he is joyful
although he has lost two sons. The young w^ife
sees hung at the door of the temple the garment
she had given to her husband, kisses it and

ITALIAN LITERATURE 155

grieves that her brother has not at least spared
the life of his brother-in-law. The Nurse tries
in vain to lead her back in the house or to con-
duct her to Horatio. But Horatio finds her here
and, enraged to find her weeping, kills her.
The people bewail her. Publius excuses Hora-
tio. Meanwhile they hear the rumor :

" Horatio is taken and conducted to tlie king ".

The Nurse and a maid, being commanded by
Publius, leave the body of Celia and enter the
house weeping. Act. III.

— Spurius tells Publius that the king has
charged two dutimvirs to judge Horatio, and
permitted him the right of appealing to the
people, should the duiimvirs sentence him for
homicide. The duiimvirs, Horatio and the people
come to the place where Celia w^as killed. The
duiimvirs, deaf to the prayers and pleadings of
Publius, command the lictors to bind Horatio;
but he appeals to the people. The duumvirs,
then, promise Publius to help him to save the
youth. The lictor having reported the event to
the king, returns and says the king would have
the people know it was not necessary

" To scale the lofty flight of palace stairs
For such a tale".

and the crowd gather around Horatio.

156 HISTORY OF

But he stands in the midst of the turbulent
throng

" Like a rock which rises out of the sea,
Making its own eminepce. "

Publius, Spurius and the duiimvirs go away.
Act. IV.

— The Nurse brings Pubhus word that the
Maid has grieved so over the death of Celia
that she has hanged herself. Publius defends
Horatio before the people and finally offers to
die in his stead. The people absolve Horatio;
but they command him to pass under the yoke
with veiled head,

" In sign of sin and penitence."

Horatio does not wish to suffer this humiliation,
and now the people command that he shall
be placed under the yoke by force, when there is
heard a Voice, which exhorts the youth to obey
and predicts illustrious descendants for him; it
also orders that Celia shall be buried in a large
and beautiful urn on the spot where she w^as
killed, and that there shall be a temple raised
where the other two Horatii fell. The youth
bends under the yoke; then hastens for the rites
of purification. The Chorus concludes the tra-
gedy by deciding that

"In the end submission brings
Both peace and joy. "

ITALIAN LITERATURE 157

This striking and beautiful tragedy does not
seem to be as well known in general literature
as the five Comedies with which the name of
Aretino is identified. They are "The Hypocrite",
"The Philosopher", "The Courtesan," "The
Blacksmith", "The Talented Woman".

Here, again, Torraca supplies us with an
excellent scene from "The Blacksmith", and I
feel that I cannot do better than to translate
it. It may be w^ell to state here some of the
special features of Italian Comedy. The people
have always had a rare talent for improvisation,
and from the earliest times this had been
employed in Comedy. In this way they had
invented types, or masks rather than individu-
als, w^hich appear in every fresh presentation.
These personified the character of the different
Italian "nationalities". Bologna contributed
the Pedant, Venice the Pantalone (or honest
merchant), Bergamo the stupid Harlequin and
Naples the witty Pulcinella. The literary Com-
edy did not dare to deviate entirely from the
form which had been so long popular, and this
Scene given by Torraca from Aretino's "Black-
smith" turns upon the part played by the
Pedant.

The Blacksmith.

Act V. Sc. III. Pedant, Blacksmith, Count,
Cavalier and Messer Jacopo.

158 HISTORY OF

M. Jac. Master, you hear, exhort him with
your philosophy to take her, and let your
speech be a long one.

Ped. Willingly, libenter: quis habet aures
audiendi audiat: turn to me, comrade, quia
amici fidelis nulla est comparatio. Everything
is willed of God and especially matrimony, in
which He always has a hand. Et iterum, and
again, I tell you your marriage is made up
there this morning and will be made down here
this evening, since, as I have said, God has had
his hand in it.

Blacksmith. It would have been much
better for me, and more to the honor of God, if
He had a hand in a letter which compelled
me to get several thousand ducats out of the
bank.

Count. O has He not had it, if it makes
you give four thousand as a dowry ?

Ped. Let me finish : Blacksmith, I tell you
you may have a son seminis ejus, w^ho from the
hour of birth will have the beautiful grace of
Alfonso d'Avalos, who with his martial and
apoUinean presence makes us appear tailed
monkeys; and the acerrimus virtutum, ac vi-
tiorum demonstrator spoke well when he said,
that inasmuch as his native liberality stripped
him naked, in that act he shone and blazed

ITALIAN LITERATURE 159

more than the Roman Fabrizius in his poverty,
though Veritas odium parit.

Car. Note this.

Count. Be warned.

M.Jac. Attend.

Blacksmith. I do note it, I am warned; I do
attend.

Fed. And who knows if he will not acquire
that strenuous eloquence with which the in-
vincible Duke of Urbino, informing Carolus
quintus, Imperator, of the Italian battles fought
by Italian, Gallic, Spanish and German soldiers,
astonished his majesty as Maximus Fabius, S.
P. Q. R. did, when he related how he had held
at bay the Carthagenian Hannibal.

Cav. He has buckled on his armor.

Fed. Exactly so.

Count. What a fine thing is the talk of the
learned !

Blacksmith. That's their fun.

Fed. He might approach the continent of
Alessandro Medices, another great Macedonian,
might come to the trembling Signor Giovanni
de' Medici terrore hominumque Deumque, and
to Luciasco Paolo his preceptor and disciple.
Et in bonitate et in largitate might come near
to the Supreme Image. Now pictoribus atque
poetis: yes, poetis, the Hebrew, the Greek, the
Latin and the vulgar Fortunio Viterbiense.

160 HISTOEY OF

Cav. You do know so many great names.

Pcd. Ego habeo in catalogo all the names
virorum et mulierum illustrium, and I have
learned them by heart. Yes, poetis; he may be
a Bembo, pater pieridum, a Molza, who stops
torrents with his piping, (1) or a cultivated
Guidicione de Luca, (2) or indeed the mel-
lifluous Alamano Fiorentino, (3) not to speak
of the pleasing Tasso (4).

B — th. What have I to do with so many
names ?

Fed. To put them together, for they are
pearls, sapphires and jacinths. Do you under-
stand? He might become a miraculous Julio Ca-
millo,who rains down knowledge, like the skies;
and perhaps a unique Aretino, (5) Stop; behold
him the facetious Firenzuola (6).

(1) Francesco Maria Molza of Modena, 1489-1544, au-
thor of the "Nymph of the Tiber" and other poems.

(2) Criovanni Guidicione of Lucca, 1500-1541, an ec-
clesiastic in great favor with Pope Paul III and the Em-
peror Charles V, author of Sonnets in imitation of Pe-
trarch.

(3; iMigi Alamanni of Florence, 1495-1656, one of
the most distinguished poets of the Eenaissance. He
spent most of his life at the French Court, and wrote
''G-irone the Courteous ;" a didactic poem entitled "Hus-
bandry", and "L'Avarchide" — The wars of Avarcos.

(4) Bernardo Tasso. See page 164.

(5) Leonardo Bruno, one of the revivers of learning.

(6) Agnuolo Firenzuola, 1493-1548, a very immoral
and corrupt man and poet, tho' a Vallombrosian monlc.

ITALIAN LITERATURE 161

Count. You seem to me a parish priest ex-
plaining the calendar to the villagers.

Cav. Ah, ah, ah.

M.Jac. Ah, ah, ah.

Fed. What think you of the comedy of Ric-
co, recited in Bologna to so many princes ?
Composed by him in early youth in imitation of
the Greeks and Latins.

Blacksmith. 0 the devil, spare us.

Ped. You have seen the Roman Academy in
San Petronio? Have you not admired in Jovio
another Livy, another Salust? I saw Tolomeo
Claudio, that most learned library of science, I
knew Cesano, freer than the will, as he knows
the world, our Gianiacopo Calandra, our Sta-
tins, and Fascitello Don Onorato, luminare
majus of the magnanimous St. Benedict of
Nursia.

Cav. We are nearly through the night.

Count. He has forgotten himself.

M.Jac. Ah, ah, ah.

Ped. Silence, silentium! Yes, pictoribus

Blacksmith. O what death is this !

Count. Ah, ah, ah.

Ped. Yes, pictoribus, a Titian rivaling na-
ture, immo magister, he will certainly be a most
divine Fra Sebastiano of Venice. And perhaps
Julio of the Roman Curia and a pupil of Raph-
ael of Urbino. And in the marble college, which

162 HISTORY OF

ought to be called first (altho' its preeminence
is not yet decided upon) a half Michelangelo, a
Jacopo Sansovino, speculum Florentise.

Biacksmitb. Gentlemen, I will sitwithyour
permission. Now let the comedy procede.

Count. Ah, ah.

Cav. Ah, ah, ah.

M.Jac. Ah, ah, ah, ah.

Fed. Sit, comrade, sit brother: without
doubt in vitruvial architecture he will be a Bal-
dasar de Sena vetus, Serlio da Bononia docet, a
Luigi Anichini Ferrariense, inventor of cutting
oriental crystals. Behold him in Armonia Adria-
no, a feat of nature. Behold him Pr& Lauro,
behold him Ruberto, et in cimbalis bene sonan-
tibus Giulio de Mutina, and Marcantonio. And
in surgery he is already the Esculapian Polo Yi-
centino, created a citizen in the capitol by the
senate.

Blacksmith. Play the bag -pipe, since the
first act is finished.

Cav. Ah, ah, ah, ah.

Count. Ah, ah, ah.

M. Jac. Ah, ah.

Fed. Certainly, certainly he will have that
integrity, that fidelity, that capacity which
marks Signor Messer Carlo da Bologna, in
whose prudence the spirit of the 8th great duke
finds rest. Al tandem he may equal the upright

ITALIAN LITERATURE 163

Aurelius, the splendid Cavalier Vincenzo Firma-
no, and make himself participate in the good
education possessed not only by Ceresara Otta-
viano, but all the gentlemen of his Excellency's
court. And being a woman, which God —

Blacksmith. Deliver me from.

Fed. If he wills it, she may have the qual-
ities of the most famous Marchesa di Pescara.

Cav. Now you will have to stop.

Fed. Why?

Car. Because God could hardly permit any
other woman to have her splendid gifts. Unless
madonna Bianca, the wife of Count Manfredi di
CoUalto should live again, at whose presence
Heaven now marvels, as earth once did.

Conte. That is so, nor could he be the hus-
band of a better wife, nor she wife of better
husband.

M. Jac. You tell the truth.

B — tb. Now^ you see cujus figuras that your
chattering ends in nothing.

Fed. Certum est that she w^as nourished by
the ten muses.

Cav. Nine, Domine, unless you wish to
include your housewife.

Fed. How nine? Hold: Clio one, Euterpe
two, Urania three. Calliope four, Erato five,
Thalia six, Venus seven, Pallas eight and Mi-
nerva nine; verum est.

164 HISTORY bF

B— tb. Sound the bag- pipe for the second
Act.

Cav. Ah, ah, ah.
Cou. Ah. ah, ah, ah.

So we find out for ourselves that this much
berated writer excels in Comedy as w^ell as in
tragedy, giving us in the above selection a rapid,
but comprehensive survey of the great people of
this age. And w^e are tempted to believe that
many who have w^ritten of Pietro Aretino have
never looked into his works, but have assumed
the truth of the assertions of the earlier critics,
which were perhaps based upon ecclesiastical
prejudices.

We find it profitable to study about Bernar-
do Tasso as a man, rather than to make any
study of the w^ritings of the poet. For our
interest at this date centres upon Bernardo
solely as the father of an illustrious son.

Yet, as we go on, we are surprised to find
so much that is interesting in the life and for-
tunes of the earlier poet. The authorities tell
us that he was the most conspicuous poet of
the age wherein he lived (1493-1569), being
placed by some critics above Ariosto himself.

Like most men of letters in Italy, Bernardo
w^as of noble birth, but without wealth; was

ITALIAN LITERATURE 165

employed as a diplomat between the Courts of
the great monarchs, and spent most of his life
in the immediate service of some prince. Guido
Rangone, general of the pontifical armies; Re-
nata, duchess of Ferrara, daughter of Louis XII
ofFranceandwifeofErcoled'Este; and Ferrante
Sanseverino, prince cif Salerno, were Bernardo's
principal patrons. In the mention of Ferrara
and the house of Este we are reminded of the
fact that "coming events cast their shadows
before them," and upon how much greater a
scale the illustrious son is to repeat the expe-
rience of his father.

It was shortly after leaving the service of
Renata that Bernardo Tasso published his first
volume of Lyric Poems. All Italy w^as ready to
receive them, for in a single Sonnet circulated
some years before, he had won all hearts by so
tenderly bewailing his first love, Ginevra Mala-
testa. Hallam has an incomparably beautiful
passage on the poets of this period. He says
"only the critical reader can resist their seducing
beauties of style, and that to his own loss of
gratification. But they belong to the decline of
art and have something of the voluptuous charm
of evening."

The fame of these Lyric Poems made Ber-
nardo known to Ferrante Sanseverino, Prince
of Salerno, who now offered him the post of

166 HISTORY OF

Secretary with a good salary. The poet turns
into a brave soldier at the celebrated siege of
Tunis, and even bears arms far into Germany
and Flanders. But this tempestuous life does
not prevent him from loving or from poetizing.
In 1543 we find him marrying Porzia de' Rossi,
a w^oman of noble birth, great beauty and ex-
traordinary talents. A break in the affairs of
his patron permitted the poet to retire to Sor-
rento with his gifted wife, and in that spot
whose dreamy loveliness can never fade from
the eyes which have once seen it, the immortal
Torquato Tasso first saw^ the light. Separated
after this from his little family, Bernardo wrote
beautiful letters to his wife, and Cantu quotes
the tender admonition : "Do not permit your
Torquato, w^hen an apple or any other fruit is
taken from him by force, to throw everything
else in displeasure to the ground; wishing in
this way to refuse and throw^ away every
species of consolation and pleasure."

But we come now to an act w^hich invests
the life of Bernardo Tasso with a truly heroic
element. Charles V ordered the establishment
of the Inquisition in Naples. And Sanseverino
refused to obey the order. Rather than desert
his friend, Bernardo literally suffered the loss of
all things. His goods were confiscated and his
poor wife died of sorrow in a convent. Perhaps

ITALIAN LITERATURE 167

some lessons were learned at the Court of the
Duchess of Ferrara, where Bernardo must have
enjoyed the friendship of the great Vittoria Co-
lonna, and probably an acquaintance with
Margaret of Navarre, (these three women being
the greatest defenders of Protestantism at this
time in Europe) and thus the poet of amatory
verses became a hero and a martyr.

It was at this crisis in his affairs that he
brought to light his great epic poem, the "Ama-
digi," suggested by the celebrated "Amadis of
Gaul" published seventy years before by the
Portuguese poet, Montalvo. The very things
that charmed the reading public then weary
and repel us now, - a diffuseness incapable of
definition and a sycophancy incompatible with
independence. Urbino, Venice and Mantua be-
stowed honors on Bernardo, and it is pleasant
to know that his life ended in peace. In his
Sonnets he was a pronounced Petrarchist, and it
is scarcely possible for a foreigner to detect any
individuality in them which will differentiate
them from the innumerable effusions of this age.

Veronica Gambara, whose personality has
stamped itself indelibly upon this brilliant pe-
riod, was born at Pratalboino, the fief of the
family, in Bresciano the 30th of Nov. 1485.
When she was 23 she married Gilberto X, lord
of Correggio, and after a married life of ten

168 HISTORY OP

years in duration and much happiness in paint
of congeniality, she had the misfortune to lose
her husband. Her chaste and studious widow-
hood attracted the attention of all Italy. The
labors attendant upon the education of her
children and the government of her little State
were lightened by her devotion to literature.

In 1529 Veronica lived at Bologna, where
she had the social distinction of meeting Charles
V, whom a little later she entertained at her
own home, Correggio. When her fief was
besieged in 1538 by Galeotto Pico della Miran-
dola, this brave w^oman called her people to
arms and repulsed the enemy. Dying in 1550,
she has left many sonnets, stanzas and madri-
gals as proofs of her fine intellect. As a specimen
of their worth, I select the following Stanze :

" With all those passions which are wont to kindle

The absent lover, who can now return

To see the eyes whose love - light does not dwindle,

And hear the words do heart on earth would spurn,

To you, as turns the maiden to her spindle.

Ye gentle mountains, streams and banks I turn,

— Most blessed thing the sun looks on in turning,

For you, fair city, I am ever yearning.

Mayst thou, my native land, abide securely.
And thou, rich country, always be serene.
Which as a phoenix, and as bravely surely
Dost make thy valor to be known and seen.
Nature as thy sole mother, nurser purely.
Has to some others but a robber been,
Whate'er they had of good ev'n so despoiling.
To give to thee without thy thought or toiling.

ITALIAN LITERATURE 169

No tigers, liana, and no serpents horrid,
Inimical to man, in thee appear.
No pois'nous herbs from out thy soil are worried,
To make death bitter when there is least fear ;
But gentle flocks and pleasing herds are hurried
To sport o'er thy bright meadows far and near.
Where lovely flow'rs and grasses that are tender
Of rare and fragrant odors are the sender.

Because to sing of all the joy you're giving
All styles I must berate and ev'n despise,
The burden of your charms I must be leaving
To minds sublime and talents that you prize,
But in my thoughts and with the soul perceiving
At every step I'll show how love makes wise ;
Your mem'ry in my very heart is reigning,
And that I pay you honor is no feigning."

At a time when there were six hundred and
sixty sonneteers of merit, it could not have been
easy to exercise any discrimination, and so it
has come . to pass that each critic presents a
different list of representative names. We do,
however, -find the name of Barbara Torello in
several of these lists, and one of the greatest of
Italian critics has pronounced her immortal
through the writing of a single sonnet. This
sonnet has a historical interest and can only be
understood in the light of its history. We must
transport ourselves to the brilliant days of the
court of Ferrara, when Lucrezia Borgia and her
third husband, Alfonso d'Este, gathered round
them poets, wits and artists. "One day in 1508,"
says J. A. Symonds, "the poet Ercole Strozzi,

170 HISTORY OF

who had sung the praises of Lucrezia, was
found dead, wrapped in his mantle and pierced
with two and twenty wounds. No judicial
enquiry into this murder was made. Rumor
credited both Alfonso and Lucrezia with the
deed — Alfonso because he might be jealous of
his wife — Lucrezia because her poet had recently
married Barbara Torello." This, then, is the
story which explains the following lovely lines :

'• Love's torch is spent, its winged dart's in twain,

Its bow and arrow and its power are crushed,

Since cruel death has o'er the fair plant rushed,

In whose blest shade I knew nor care nor pain.

Ah, why have I not in that trench now pushed

My way with him whom destiny has slain,

Him, who not e'en brief weeks of joy could gain

Before the fatal blow in death hath hushed ?

O would that I with my own fire could warm

That icy coldness, bid the dust engage

To live but on my tears and find new life ;

Then would I, bold and fearless from my strife,

Show him to him who brought ^e all this harm, I iv\

And say: Inhuman soul. Love mocks thy rage."

We can see for ourselves that the Petrar-
chists were not only purists, toiling to get the
right word in the right place, but that they
w^ere also most faithful imitators of Petrarch in
the unveiling of their deepest feelings. Among
the most celebrated women of this calt was the
unhappy Gaspara Stampa, born at Padua in
1523. Her history is summed up in the state-
ment that she loved the soldier poet CoUaltino,

ITALIAN LITERATURE 171

Count of Collalto, who for several years trifled
with her affections and finally abandoned her.
But while her Sonnets may be held as models of
pure taste, poetical vigor and natural grief, her
glory is that in an age of universal immorality
she maintained an irreproachable purity of
character. "Her passion for Collalto, ardent
and undisguised, was ever virtuous; the sense
of gentle birth, though so inferior to his as
perhaps to make a proud man fear disparage-
ment, sustained her against dishonorable sub-
mission." From the modern point of view we
should, of course, regard her as an ambitious
woman, who used her romance as a means of
winning public plaudits. But even those who
accept the old view of thorough artificiality,
must rejoice in this complete triumph of prin-
ciple over sentiment, nor is it unreasonable to
believe that the kindly offices of literature and
learning made such a triumph eificacious.

Gaspara Stampa's sonnets bear the closest
scrutiny,and give evidence of the author's change
of feeling through the stages of youthful buo-
yancy, the sadness of mature years, and the
contemplation of eternity. In the first she tells
us that "none but the elect Angels, or the happy
lover who has felt it, can have an idea of her
happiness."

172 HISTORY OF

In the second stage she says,

" Place me where the angry sea is foaming,
Or where waters lie in tranquil joy and peace,

I shall live as I have lived, be what I've been.

Provided only that my earthly star

Beams on me with its sweet accustomed mien."

The last stage gives opportunity for both
nobler sentiments and lovelier language, and
we find her now deeply repenting of the "sin of
loving," in plaintive pleadings with the Lord
"to be drawn out of the deep sea, to emerge
from which by her own efforts is an impossibi-
lity."

Dying at the age of thirty- one (1554), her
destiny seems to have received in every shape
and form the seal of genius.

But by far the most illustrious w^oman of
this age was the renowned Vittoria Colonna,
whose life is one of the redeeming pages in the
history of the Renaissance. As someone has
said, she "was born into a world that was
profligate, venal, blasphemous, dissolute and
depraved, yet she kept herself unspotted from
all that surrounded her, and walked her lofty
path in purity, in sanctity, in nobleness, and,
mainly, in solitude of the sad soul."

Vittoria Colonna was the daughter of the
great Neapolitan Constable, Pabrizio Colonna,
of an ancient princely family. For political

ITALIAN LITERATURE 173

purposes she was betrothed to Francesco d'A-
valos, Marquis of Pescara, when they were
both about five years old. The solemnity of
this betrothal made a deep impression upon the
child's mind, and when the marriage took place
in 1509, when Vittoria was nineteen, she
brought to it a passionate and steadfast love
for her young husband. At Naples the aristo-
cratic couple entered upon typical careers or
lady and knight during those stormy times, Pe-
scara w^as soon called away to be occupied in
incessant warrings, and Vittoria occupied her-
self sedulously with culture, her strenuous and
lofty spirit entering thus early upon its perpetual
widowhood. There is no doubt that, while in
later years Pescara became proud, envious,
cruel and treacherous, he was at this time a
gallant soldier, a chivalrous and courteous
captain. He received wounds in the face at the
ever -memorable battle of Ravenna, and w^as
the hero of Pavia, where the flower of the French
nobility fell before Francis I surrendered. So
that while Vittoria invested him -with many
virtues which he never possessed, she did have
much to glory in on the score of his bravery.

We hear of Vittoria in solitude and study at
Naples and at magnificent festivities at Ischia,
but the most interesting period of her life is
that of her first visit to Rome, when she meets

174 HISTORY OF

the sumptuous pagan, Leo X; andBembo,Sado-
leto, Castiglione, Giberti, Ariosto, Berni and the
abominable Pietro Aretino crowrd around her.
Men of utterly dissimilar character, talents and
position found in her their ideal woman; and as
it -was in her own day, so it has been since, —
no man has ever written of her who has not
become eloquent in her praise. Yet she was a
true virago, the most learned w^oman of the
sixteenth century. Always grave and serious,
often sad, immaculately pure, never forgetting
that she was a Colonna and una gran dama,
we almost lose sight of her in our admiration
for the men who admired her so generously. Of-
course all the male critics add to every other
charm that Yittoria possessed that of great
beauty. General beauty, i, e, great dignity and
a fine carriage she may have had, but I have in
my possession a copy of one of the portraits
painted by Michael Angelo, the greatest of all
her admirers, which shows her to have been of
a remarkably forbidding countenance.

The Marquis of Pescara died in 1525, and
Yittoria spent the first years of her real wid-
owhood in a Convent at Rome, but as time
passed she saw that she stood in nearer relation
to political events than in her husband's lifetime,
and stepped forth to take her real place in the
struggles of the age. She was obliged to have

ITALIAN LITERATURE 175

a private secretary to help her conduct her
increasing correspondence. She -was in intimate
and sympathetic relations with the great Italian
reformers, Contarini, Sadoleto and Caraffa, and
no sketch of her life would be complete w^hich
did not make much of her protection of Bernar-
dino Ochino. This daring and eloquent priest,
who denounced the sins of priests and the
crimes of the papacy, was as truly great as was
Savonarola, and the danger that he incurred
was much greater, for he was running counter
to the counter — Reformation. Vittoria interced.
ed with Paul III for his life, but he was obliged
to leave Rome. As Ochino wandered far and
wide in search of safety and freedom to preach
freely, from Geneva to England and back again,
Vittoria cheered him with her lettei's and her
sympathy, and at last he died of pestilence,
unknown, in a little Moravian town.

In these years too the hand of the noble
Vittoria was often sought in marriage, but as
in early girlhood, so now she remained absolute-
ly true to the one love of her life. The passion-
ate friendship offered her by the noble soul of
Michael Angelo seems never to have made her
sw^erve for a moment from her childhood's vow.

This is the setting in which we are to study
the religious poems of the Renaissance, for Vit-
toria has been called the originator of the high

176 HISTORY OF

poetry of sacred song. Passing away peacefully
in the home of her married niece, GiuliaColonna
Cesarini, she was buried in the ordinary burial
ground of the nuns of Santa Catarina in Viter-
bo. Such had always been her exquisite decorum
and propriety in life, that, when Michael Angelo
bent over her lifeless form, he pressed his lips
only to the dead one's hand. Many beautiful
things have been written of Vittoria Colonna,
but none exceeds the epitaph offered by her
contemporary, Marcantonio Flaminio, terse
and dignified in the original Latin, but ably
translated by J. A. Symonds as follows :

" Her mind was pure, her manners pure,

Her virtue lively, her courtesy without a taint of earth ;

Her intellect was heavenly, her learning rare ;

Her words sweeter than nectar ;

Her nobility "the highest, her features beautiful

In their majesty, her wealth liberally open

To the use of good men."

To the names of Leon Battista Alberti and
Leonardo da Vinci we now add that of Michael
Angela Buonarroti as artist and man-of-letters;
— although to find Michael Angelo among the
poets may seem as strange to some as the
finding of Saul among the prophets to the
ancient Israelites. Unlike the vast majority of
the Italian writers, Michael Angelo was not of
noble birth, but was born of plain but respecta-
ble parents, in Florence, in 1475. He has been

ITALIAN LITERATURE 177

called "the greatest soul of the sixteenth centu-
ry," "the sublimest genius that the world has
ever seen." It is Sir James Stephens, I believe,
who says the thought of a French or an English
Michael Angelo is inconceivable and impossible;
thus summing up in a single sentence the co-
lossal, overpowering might and lliajesty of the
Italian genius.

The genius and achievements of Michael
Angelo forcibly call our attention to the true
province of the Italian genius and to the fact
that literature is not its forte. Here we are
made to realize that literature in Italy is the
pastime of an aristocratic class, even scholarship
is for enjoyment, and the toil of thought is
subservient to the dictates of a fashionable
society.

The life of Michael Angelo is in his works.
Of an impetuous, fiery and volcanic tempera-
ment, we follow him as a student in the gar-
dens of Lorenzo the Magnificent; up to Rome
to do the bidding of Pope Julius II; patronized,
yet thwarted and misunderstood by Leo X;
fortifying Florence for the memorable siege of
1529, when Charles Y and Clement VII joined
forces to restore the Medici; and, finally, recon-
ciled to Clement VII and settling down in Rome
in his sixtieth year (1534) for the remainder of
his life. Losing his mother in infancy, his

178 HISTORY OP

biographers tell us that he submitted to pinching
hardship and superhuman labor for his father
and brothers, being governed by a noble sense
of duty to his family. As the proteg6 of Loren-
zo de' Medici he became a Christian Platonist,
and remained a devout believer throughout his
life. But it is not until his sixtieth year that
Michael Angelo really seems to have any private
life. Hurried here and there to undertake to
execute works of art, any one of which might
have furnished occupation for a life -time, his
ow^n magnificent conceptions always outrunning
the possibilities of human achievement, who
can w^onder that he was preoccupied and pas-
sionate, indifferent alike to good or evil fate ?
But it was towards the evening of his days,
when his best work had been done, and when
time had perhaps softened the bitterness of his
early feuds, that he met and loved the peerless
Vittoria Col onna, and under her benign influence
found expression for his overburdened heart in
words.

It has been my glorious privilege to stand
face to face with all the great works of Michael
Angelo. The ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, the
wall of the Last Judgment, the Moses for the
tomb of Julius II in San Pietro in Vincbli, the
Slaves of the Louvre, the Pieta of St. Peter's,
the nude Christ in Santa Maria sopra Minerva,

ITALIAN LITERATURE 179

St. John the Baptist in the Berlin Museum, the
Youthful David of the Florentine Academy, the
tombs of the Medici (Giuliano, a younger son
of Lorenzo the Magnificent, entitled Duke de
Nemours, and Lorenzo, the son of Pietro and
grandson of the Magnificent, known as the
Duke of Urbino), those marvelous tombs in the
Chapel of San Lorenzo, which have been grimly
styled "jthe cenotaphs of Murdered Liberty;'"
and finally (not to mention w^orks of lesser
importance ) the Farnese Palace, the Church of
Santa Maria degli Angeli, and the greatest of
all Churches, the unrivaled San Pietro in Yati-
cano, — all have passed in review before my
astonished eyes and impressed themselves upon
ray awestruck soul.

It is therefore a peculiar pleasure to study
the mind of this marvelous man as expressed in
language, — that most definite form of human
utterance. Michael Angelo's Sonnets are re-
stricted to the subjects of the Supreme Being,
Yittoria Colonna and Dante. It is startling to
find that the great Titan, who defied all prec-
edent in sensuous Art, submitted unreservedly
to the Petrarchian craze. But however com-
mon-place in form, the profound religious
sentiment, the purity and tenderness of these
Sonnets render them altogether incomparable.

180 HISTORY OF

As a matter-of-course I substitute Words-
worth's exquisite translations for my own.

To the Supreme Being.
" The prayers I make will then be sweet indeed,
If Thou the spirit give by which I pray :
My unassisted heart is barren clay,
That of its native self can nothing feed :
Of good and pious works Thou art the seed.
That quickens only where Thou say'st it may ;
Unless Thou show to us Thine own true way
No man can find it. Father I Thou must lead.
Do Thou, then, breathe those thoughts into my mind
By which such virtue may in me be bred
That in Thy holy footsteps I may tread ;
The fetters of my tongue do Thou unbind.
That I may have the power to sing of Thee,
And sound Thy praises everlastingly."

To Vittoria Colonna.

"Yes ! hope may with my strong desire keep pace.

And I be undeluded, unbetrayed ;

For if of our affections none find grace

In sight of Jleaven, then, wherefore hath God made

The world Which we inhabit ! Better plea

Love cannot have, than that in loving thee

Glory to that eternal peace is paid.

Who such divinity to thee imparts

As hallows and makes pure all gentle hearts.

His hope is treacherous only whose love dies

With beauty, which is varying every hour ;

But in chaste hearts, uninfluenced by the power

Of outward change, there blooms a deathless flower.

That breathes on earth the air of paradise."

ITALIAN LITERATURE 181

On Dante. (1)

" There is no tongue to speak his eulogy ;

Too brightly burned his splendor for our eyes ;

Far easier to condemn his injurers

Than for the tongue to reach his smallest worth.

He to the realms of sinfulness came down,

To teach mankind ; ascending then to God,

Heaven unbarred to him her lofty gates.

To whom his country hers refused to ope.

Ungrateful land! to its own injury.

Nurse of his fate! Well, too, does this instruct

That greatest ills fall to the perfectest.

And, midst a thousand proofs, let this sufiBce, —

That, as his exile had no parallel.

So never was there man more great than he."

Michael Angelo survived Vittoria Colonna
seventeen years, accomplishing his greatest
works in architecture during these last years of
his life, and dying in his ninetieth year in 1564.
The age of the Renaissance, in permitting
unbridled license in every department of thought,
seems to have been a reenactment of the orig-
inal grant of free agency to man. We see that
without the sin we could not have had the
virtue; and the deliberate choice of all that is
holy, pure and noble, as illustrated in Michael
Angelo and Vittoria Colonna, confers a lustre
upon the human race itself.

(1) Translated by J. E. Taylor, an Englishman, who
published a most interesting work entitled "Michelan-
gelo considered as a philosophic Poet; with transla-
tions ;' octavo, London, 1840.

182 HISTORY OF

In reaching the life of Lodorico Ariosto, we
find the name in literature which above all
others Italy most delights to honor. As the
French critics never give their full assent to any-
one but Racine, so the Italians say Ariosto alone
is matter of their tongue.

So completely is Ariosto identified with his
writings, that his personality has never been
studied by anyone. The circumstances of his
life are not without glamor, yet no appeal is
ever made to the imagination to revel in them.
He was born in Reggio in 14.74, and from early
childhood manifested a predilection for litera-
ture. The ducal house of Este had patronized
his father, and the young Lodovico simply
stepped into the good fortune prepared for
him. Cardinal Ippolito d'Este made him his
"gentleman," and while Ariosto's headquarters
were at Ferrara.hew^as often sent on embassies
of a diplomatic nature, especially to Julius II
and Leo X in Rome, when he met the great men
and women of the time. His great poem, the
"Orlando Furioso," w^as written from 1505 to
1516, in which year it was published for the
first time and took the literary world by storm.
The Prince of the Church, to whom it was all
addressed, alone proved surly and unapprecia-
tive, and when in 1518 Ariosto refused to

ITALIAN LITERATURE 183

accompany him into Hungary, Ippolito summa-
rily dismissed him from his service.

The duke, Alfonso of Ferrara, then took
compassion on the poet, and appointed him
governor and pacificator of the disturbed pro-
vince of Garfagnana. After three years of marked
success in this capacity, Ariosto returned to
Ferrara and entered upon the brightest period of
his life as director of theatrical representations
at the ducal court. But while writing many
comedies, satires and eclogues, he continued to
enrich, polish and repolish the one great work
on which he rested his fame, and which evidently
absorbed his life, his love and his personality.
The last of his own editions appeared in 1532,
and while he lived to know that there w^as not
a scholar, not a boy or girl, who was content to
read it only once, he survived this final labor
only, a year, dying on the 6th of June, 1533.

Thfixmly incidents of a personal and private
nature that we can cull from the life of Ariosto
are involved in the relation he sustained to his
brothers and sisters, and his conduct towards
his wife and sons. His father consigned nine
brothers and sisters to the care of Lodovico,
and w^e are told that he nobly and generously
fulfilled this obligation, working hard, himself,
to defray the expenses of their education.

Many biographers omit the mention of

184 HISTORY OF

Ariosto's marriage, so obscure and uncertain is
the information concerning it. It seems, however,
that he was secretly married to a certain Ales-
sandra Benucci, after the existence of a rela-
tionship between them. He must have seen very
little of his two sons, as there does not seem
to have been any acknowledgment of them in
life; but he expressly named them in his will
and thus far made reparation for neglect in life.
As a national work, Ariosto's epic reflects
Italy at her lowest point of political depression,
enslaved and desperate, and hence determined
to cast ofi every serious thought, abandoned to
raillery, unbridled mirth arid cynicism. As a
literary masterpiece, it is typically Italian,
proving that a book lives because of its style,
whether it be a sermon or a farce. Gian Giorgio
Trissino, a contemporary of Ariosto, and a
dignified and serious scholar, took the theme of
"Italy Delivered" for his epic, and then wrote :

" I've reached the long-desired and painful end

Of this my lengthy poem, so well made

That now I need not henceforth be afraid

Of time, or war, or other impious trend.

But ere I reach life's confines or attend

To thoughts of death, or feel at all dismayed

At that dread hour, or seek for ghostly aid,

I hope for this world's praise for what I've penned.

But curs6d be the day my muse look flight

And of renowned Orlando did not write."

But Trissino was mistaken. The subject of

Orlando had been worn threadbare. Ariosto

ITALIAN LITERATURE 185

succeeded in spite of it, rather than because of
it, by means of that magical and indescribable
endowment which we call genius.

Who has not trembled with delight in
treading the dark and sombre aisles of Santa
Croce in Florence ! Byron says the four great
spirits, Michael Angelo, Alfieri, Galileo and
Macchiavelli, whose dust reposes here, "might
furnish forth creation."

Nicold Macchiavelli was born in Florence in
1469. It is a disputed point whether the family
of Macchiavelli was noble, but it is certain that
it had rendered many services to the Republic,
and that the most illustrious scion of the name
attained manhood under favorable auspices.

Macchiavelli's responsible career opened in
1494, the memorable date of the expulsion of
the Medici, when he was appointed Court
Chancelor and Secretary to the Council of Ten.
During the fourteen years of Florentine freedom
he was charged with many important diplomatic
missions for the Republic. These embassies to
Cassar Borgia, Louis XII, Julius II, and the
Emperor Maximilian stirred his slumbering
genius; and the political sagacity and patrio-
tism for which he has been so much admired
w^ere born of that wide experience which makes
a traveler a man of the world. But Piero So-

186 HISTORY OF

derini, (1) who had been elected Chief Magistrate
for life, was not able to resist the cupidity of
the Spaniards, and in 1512 Florence once again
submitted to the Medici under the protection of
Spain.

Macchiavelli was, of course, disgraced and
deprived of his appointments. A little later,
upon the discovery of a conspiracy against the
Medici, Macchiavelli was charged with compli-
city, thrown into prison and tortured upon the
rack. He bore this cruelty with a noble forti-
tude, no word of recrimination escaping him,
and as he was entirely innocent, he had no
confessions to make. Leo X, in assuming the
tiara, drew Macchiavelli from his prison, but
there was no office to confer upon him.

It was in these years of banishment to his
farm near San Casciano, in an idleness which
preyed upon his restless spirit, "while his
enemies studied to make his contemporaries,
forget him, that he erected with his own genius
monuments which must make his name celebrat-

(1) Piero Soderini was an upright man, but the victim
of circumstances in the last agitations of a turbulent
republic. Macchiavelli despised his passivity and circu-
lated an epigram, which ran :

" The night that Piero Soderini died,
His soul to the Inferno sallied down ;
Bepulsing him from Hell, old Pluto cried,
"Go to the Limbo of Bambini, clown" 1 "

ITALIAN LITERATURE 1S7

ed throughout the world for all time. Asso-
ciating with the rustics during the day, the
long nights were consumed in the profound
reflections which gave rise to "The Prince,"
"Discourses on Livy," a treatise on "the Art of
War," novels and comedies. The greatest of
these works, "The Prince," was written for the
private perusal of Giuliano de' Medici and was
not published until 1532, five years after Mac-
chiavelli's death. But his reprehensible comedy,
the "Mandragora," was acted before Leo X,
according to the customs of the age, with every
accompaniment of sensuous splendor.

Under the influence of Leo X Macchiavelli
w^as again taken into the service of the Floren-
tine government; but his missions were un-
important, and these years were again made
lustrous by the labors of his pen, — this
time upon his magnificent "History of Florence."
This was written at the instigation of Clement
VII, and all promised well for Macchiavelli under
the new pontificate. But just as brighter days
seemed about to dawn, the Florentines wheeled
around and restored the Republic. The great
diplomatist, the shrewd and subtle statesman,
found that he did not belong to either party;
chagrin and disappointment undoubtedly ag-
gravated an indisposition which without these
griefs might have proved unnoticcable. The

188 HISTORY OF

Republic was restored on the 16th of May, 1527,
and Macchiavelli's sad and cynical life came to
an end on the 22nd of June.

Macchiavelli's fame as a historian is su-
perseded by his renown as an expounder of
statecraft, for his name is identified with the
"Prince," and it is this work which has given
that name as an adjective to all European lan-
guages. We shall see in our analysis that
there has been a profound misunderstanding of
the term Macchiavellian, but no one can fail to
be impressed by the strength of the personality
which originated it. The same force, clearness
and precision mark the pages of his History.

As a historian Macchiavelli justly stands at
the head of the most remarkable list which any
country can furnish. Italy is the mother both of
history and historians. Macchiavelli was the
first person in the world to discover the secret
of comparative history — the science which of
all others has proved most attractive to the
modern mind. The comprehensiveness of the
first chapters of his "History of Florence" has
never been excelled. Within the limits of our
own subject, we note with interest that Macchia-
velli speaks three times admiringly of Dante;
alludes to the eloquence of Boccaccio; quotes
the patriotic lines of Petrarch; regards Savona-
rola as a politician only; pays homage to Mar-

ITALIAN LITERATURE 189

silio Ficino and terminates his work by doing
full justice to Cosmo de' Medici ( the founder of
the house) and Lorenzo the Magnificent.

Of course the work is interspersed with those
delightful philosophical reflections so character-
istic of the " Prince." But authorities tell us
that Macchiavelli as the originator of Philoso-
phical History must be studied in the "Discour-
ses on Livy." It is very evident that his claim
as a creative genius is easily substantiated.

The noblest of Italy's historians, however,
have yet to be considered. "In the dark days
in which the country was losing its political
independence there arose a band of disinterested
and intrepid patriots, who, waiving all thought
of earthly glory, composed their folios in secret,
consecrating them solely to posterity and
truth." No other country can boast of such
heroes; but, then, we must remember that "the
proud recollection of their Roman fathers often
troubled the dreams of the sons." The first of
these great writers in point of time was

Jacopo Nardi (1476-1556). Of anoble family
a^nd high in office, having been made one of the
priors of liberty at the age of 25, this intrepid
ipan devoted his entire life to his country.
Belonging at first to the followers of Savona-
rola, the Piagnoni (i. e. the Mourners), Nardi in
later life had some doubts about the inner sin-

190 HISTORY OP

cerity of the great reformer, but he never swerv-
ed in his belief in liberty and his hatred of the
oppression of the Medici.

This family of merchant princes had by this
time become so great a power in moulding the
destinies of Florence, that the question of openly
abandoning the republican form of government
in which the people had gloried for centuries
had now to be confronted and decided. Nardi
w^as violently opposed to this abandonment,
and bravely exposed his life in the great siege of
1529, when the Emperor Charles V and Pope
Clement VII (himself a member of the house of
Medici) joined forces for the overthrow of the
republic.

This Siege of Florence, in which Nardi took
such an active part, is one of the most tragic
episodes in all History. There was civil discord
in the city. While the republican government
was secretly attacked by the partisans of the
Medici, it was openly disputed by the Ottimati
( Conservatists ) and the Piagnoni, i, e, the
Mourners or Reformers. "The approach of
danger, the remembrance of Savonarola, recalled
by some monks, made it pass at the decisive
moment into the hands of the Piagnoni. The
gonfalonier (magistrate), Niccol6 Capponi,
chief of the Ottimati, was replaced by Francesco
Carducci, a true Piagnone. In an hour of

ITALIAN LITERATURE 191

enthusiasm, on a motion of the gonfalonier
Carducci, the people proclaimed Christ perpetual
king of the republic. The commission of the Ten
of War gave orders; Michael Angelo was charg-
ed with directing the defense of the fortifications,
and the command of all the troops was assigned
to the condottiere, Malatesta Baglione, an
experienced general, but a cruel, impious man,
defiled with vices. But all these efforts of a
tardy, local patriotism w^ere useless. The
vigorous sorties, the bold undertaking of Fran-
cesco Ferruccio,who was taken prisoner covered
■with mortal wounds, served only for heroic
episodes in the fall of liberty. The condottiere
Baglione, who sold the people, the city and the
blood of the Florentines ounce by ounce, seeing
that he was suspected, delivered up a bastion
to the enemy and turned his artillery against
the city. To avoid the horrors of pillage, Flo-
rence agreed to pay 80,000 crowns, and to
receive the Medici once more." Of course the
partisans of the Medici immediately had a decree
passed, which condemned to death or to exile
all the enemies of Alessandro de' Medici.

Nardi was among the exiled, but this did
not quench his ardent patriotism. As a last
proof in favor of his country he went to Naples
in 1535, with some other Florentines, and repre-
sented to Charles V the vices and the cruelty of

192 HISTORY OF

the hated Alessandro. Seeing that this effort,
too, was all in vain, Nardi withdrew to Venice,
and consoled his old age and his exile with the
labors of his pen; dying, as is supposed, in 1556.

With his translation of Livy, his Life of
Giacomini, and his two Comedies, "The Friend-
ship" and "The Two Happy Rivals, we are not
concerned. It is his noble "History of Florence,"
published fifty years after his death, which
entitles him to the undying regard of posterity.
We have given a synopsis of the great Siege, of
w^hich of course Nardi treats at length, as his
History only covers the period from 1494 to
1538. All the critics pronounce him painstaking,
accurate, cautious, calm, unprejudiced. But he
is sometimes deemed dry, slow^, and even dull.
To counteract this impression I give here one of
the most pathetic incidents to be found any-
where, and leave it to my readers to decide
whether it is well told :

"An incident worthy of compassion happen-
ed at this time and was as follows; Vincenzo
Puccini, a brave young man, one of the captains
of the bands sent with our people into the king-
dom of Naples, findmg himself in the city ot
Aquila, was sent from prison there to Florence
and as a disobedient and scandalous person
was condemned to death by the council of War,
because the said Vincenzo, when a rash youth.

ITALIAN LITERATUKE 193

had been the cause of mutiny and sedition
among our soldiers, when this city of Aquila
ran great danger of being sacked; and was only
rescued from such disorder by the labors and
authority of the Commissary, Giambattista
Soderini. But because as a citizen Yincenzo w^as
an elector and a beneficiary, he had the right of
appealing to the great Council, for the law of
the severe judgment of the forty, by which the
power of appealing to the great Council was
taken away, had not yet been made. The
criminal was, therefore, conducted before the
said great Council, and being placed on the
rostrum, humbly asked pardon of the State
and of the Council, excusing his error as well as
he could by attributing it to the rashness of his
youth. Nevertheless, when he had supplicated
three times and his absolution had been proposed
as often, it was not possible for him to obtain
favor, although tears of pity were seen to fall
from the eyes of almost all the Councilors; so
that it seemed that in regard to this matter
justice and mercy prevailed equally in the minds
of those Councilors."

Francesco Guicciardini, the greatest of all
the Italian historians, was born at Florence on
the 6th of March, 1482. He studied Law at Flo-
rence, Ferrara and Padua and was a recognized
advocate in 150 7. Marrying into the Salviati

194 HISTORY OF

family, which was then the most distinguished
private family in Florence, and being sent as an
ambassador to the king of Spain, life opened
auspiciously for the great historian.

Guicciardini had just returned from his em-
bassy to Spain, when in 1515 Leo X came to
Florence, and was so much pleased with the
young lawyer, that he made him an advocate of
the consistory, and sent him to govern Modena
and Reggio. From this time on Guicciardini
becomes an actor in the history which he is to
write. The French governor of Milan tried to
deprive him of Reggio, but he had prepared such
an admirable defence that the assault proved
fruitless. (History of Italy, Book XIV.)

After the deaths of Leo X and Adrian VI,
Pope Clement VII appointed Guicciardini gover-
nor of Romagna, and later he was made lieuten-
ant general of the pontifical army, with almost
absolute power. (Hist. XVII.) The game of war
was being played with great zeal at this time
by the Emperor Charles V, Francis I of France
and the Pope, Clement VII. They were utterly
bereft of serious intentions and all sense of re-
sponsibility. But this burden of sin and sorrow
weighed heavily upon the noble-minded Guic-
ciardini. He spent much time and labor in trying
to draw up terms of agreement between the
mad monarchs, so that "distracted Italy"

ITALIAN LITERATURE 195

might yet know the blessing of peace. But while
he was in command of the pontifical troops the
Pope broke faith with him at Piacenza, and
w^hen, immediately after, the Constable de
Bourbon passed into the service of Charles V
for the purpose of wreaking vengeance upon
France and Italy, Guicciardini only arrived in
Florence in time to save it from pillage. (Hist.
XVIII.) When Rome was taken by the imperial-
ists and the Pope's representative left Florence,
Guicciardini gave up the command of the Flo-
rentine troops and retired to his villa at Finoc-
chieto. Later, he left Tuscany, and in 1530 his
property was confiscated. The last years of his
stormy and'eventful life were spent in governing
Bologna and defending the Medici, of whom he
had always been a staunch friend. He died at
Arcetri on the 22nd of May, 1540.

At the age of twenty-six Guicciardini wrote
a History of Florence, forecasting his profound
knowledge of men and events. But his great
work is a History of Italy in 20 books, extending
from the descent of Charles VIII to the death of
Clement VII (1494-1534). This, which was
written in exile, he copied and corrected many
times, and his nephew did not venture to pub-
lish it until 20 years after the historian's death.
Then only 16 books were published, and two
whole centuries passed before an editor could be

196 HISTORY OF

found to give the pure and complete text of the
manuscript.

Committing his real opinions and judgments
to his book, he appears not to have approved
of, or believed in, the Medici. Indeed he plainly
reveals that he has no enthusiasm, and little faith
in anything. The merit of his historical works
consists in the exquisite distinctness of his
pictures, in the revelation of his own personal-
ity — a soul sublimely sad — , and in his forci-
ble and powerful testimony to the terrible
corruption of the age.

This is his fine and subtle analysis of Popes
Leo X and Clement VII :

"Leo, who bore the first ecclesiastical hon-
ors in the house of the Medici, and with the au-
thority of the cardinalate sustained so -well
both himself and this family, fallen from a lofty
place into a deep decline, while it was awaiting
the return of prosperous fortune, was a man of
supreme liberality; if indeed such an expression
is suited to an expenditure which passes every
measure. Having assumed the pontificate,
there appeared in him so much magnificence
and splendor, and a spirit so truly royal, that
it would have been marvelous even in one who
had been through a long succession descended
from kings and Emperors. He had among his
other felicities, which were very great, not a

ITALIAN I-ITERATURE 197

little luck in having with him Giulio de' Medici,
his cousin, whom as cavalier of Rodi, although
not of legitimate birth, he exalted to the car-
dinalate. Because Giulio being by nature grave,
diligent, assiduous in labor, averse to pleasures,
orderly and thrifty in everything; and having in
hand by the will of Leo all the important
negotiations of the pontificate, supported and
moderated many disorders which proceeded
from Leo's prodigality and ease."

" The opinion of Giulio's ability was
strengthened after Leo's death; because in the
many contradictions and difficulties that he
encountered, he sustained his rights w^ith so
much dignity, that he almost seemed to be
pontiff; and he so kept up his authority w^ith
many of the cardinals, that entering upon two
conclaves absolute master of sixteen votes, he ar-
rived finally, notw^ithstanding infinite contra-
dictions from the greater number and the older
members of the College, (after the death of
Adrian) at the pontificate. It w^as the universal
opinion that he would be a greater pope and do
grander things than anyone who had sat in that
seat. But one knows how faulty w^ere the opin-
ions both in regard to Leo and to Clement.
Although the latter had abundant intellect and
marvelous knowledge of the world's affairs, he
did not correspond in resolution and execution.

198 HISTORY OF

Because prevented not only by timidity of spirit
(which in him was not slight) and by cupidity,
but also by a certain irresolution and perplexity
which was natural to him, he remained almost
always suspended and ambiguous when he was
conducted to the determination of questions
long foreseen, considered and resolved upon."

The compilers have not very much to tell us
about the life of Filippo Nerli, although from
certain points of view he appears to be a most
interesting character. A nobleman by birth
and an aristocrat by nature, Nerli was on the
wrong side in these political and civic strifes,
but that does not prevent our giving him a
hearing.

Like Guicciardini, Nerii married a member
of the Salviati family, his wife, Caterina Sal-
viati, being also a member of the house of Me-
dici as the niece of Leo X and the Aunt of the
young Cosimo, who was to succeed the detest-
able Alessandro.

Nerli held the distinguished ofBce of Senator,
w^as on friendly and familiar terms with Ginlio
de' Medici, afterwards Clement VII, and was
privy Councilor to Alessandro in 1531.

Animated by the example of Macchiavelli,
whose History of Florence had been freely cir-
culated by this time, this thoughtful patrician
resolved to spend the last years of his life in

ITALIAN LITERATURE 199

writing the History of his country from his
own standpoint, though he saw that it would
be out of the question to publish his work in
his own life-time. Actively engaged in the aifairs
of these troublous times,mixing himself up with
the exiles and acting as a spy upon their
projects — a course w^hich must be condemned
unreservedly — , Nerli wins our regard as a writer
far more than as a patriot. He is the only one of
these historians who has a truly literary turn,
for he condescends to dwell upon the reform of
manners under the sway of Savonarola, and is
determined that posterity shall know about the
taste and culture of the Florentines. To lovers
of literature it is important to trace all influen-
ces of this kind. Nerli tells us about the famous
Bernardo Rucellai (the father of the celebrated
poet of this name (1), who, married toaMedici,
took up the rSle left vacant by the death of Lo-
renzo the Magnificent, and invited the Platonic
Academy to hold its meetings in his private
grounds; and so delightful were these meet-
ings, that "the literary gatherings in the
Rucellai gardens" have passed into a by -word
to express one of the most cultivated and refined

(1) Giovanni Bucellai, author of the tragedy "Eos-
monda" and the poem of the "Bees," the first didactic
poem in Italian, 1475 - 1525.

200 HISTORY OF

forms of social enjoyment that the world has
ever known.

Nerli's History, which is entitled "A Com-
mentary on the Civil Affairs of Florence" covers
the period from 1215 to 1537, and is therefore
more comprehensive than the w^orks of his
confreres, and more like that of Macchiavelli.
He gave it with his dying hand to his nephew,
who presented the manuscript to the Grand
Duke, State -reasons, however, interfered with
its publication, and it w^as not given to the
world until 150 years after the death of the
historian!

Bernardo Segni (1504-1558) rendered an
imperishable service to his country in bequeath-
ing it a History, truthful, fair and moderate as
to facts, and beautifully embellished by the
charms of a graceful style and the enthusiasm
of a strong personality. His youth was spent
in arduous studies, and he had already practised
law and negotiated as a banker, when, returning
to Florence after an absence of some months
in Aquila, he became an eyewitness of the disor-
ders which were preparing the way for the fall
of the republican government. Nicol6 Capponi,
who w^as gonfalonier at this time, was Segni's
maternal Uncle, and we are therefore not sur-
prised that after the people's choice fell upon
Francesco Carducci, Segni withdrew as much

ITALIAN LITERATURE 201

as possible from public life and gave himself up
to his studies and his writings, — "avoiding
the enmity of the powerful, without seeking
their favor." After the excitements had subsided,
in 1 541 Cosimo I called Segni from his retire-
ment and sent him as ambassador to Austria;
the Florentine Academy made him its provost,
and the most illustrious citizens delighted to
honor him.

As a scholar Segni's fame rests upon his
many translations from the Greek, but his "Life
of Nicol6 Capponi" and his Florentine History,
unbracing the years from 1527 to 1555 ecclipse
those in value and awaken our liveliest interest.
•Carefully concealing the existence of his History
in his life - time, Segni's relatives only discovered
it accidentally after his death. Its fate is even
more remarkable than that of the Histories we
have noticed, for while 150 years passed before
it was printed, no sooner had it seen the light
than it seemed to melt away, the reigning
Grand Duke immediately buying up all the
<:opies in order to suppress them. Of course a
few copies were rescued, but it is only in our
own day that the world knows w^hat a treasure
w^as bequeathed it.

Of all the events of this specially dramatic
period of which Segni writes so ably, none is
of greater interest than the death of Francesco

202 HISTORY OF

Ferruccio, the hero of the Siege of Florence. He
describes the brave leader, '• the only hope of
liberty," when made Commissary general of
the republican forces; his escort to Pisa; upon
starting out from which with every prospect of
success, he was informed that the enemy under
the command of Philibert, Prince of Orange,
had cut off his way; for Malatesta had played
him false. Ferruccio was advised to take refuge
in the mountain fastnesses.

"But he, with" "aniTio superbo," having
said many times w^ith disdainful countenance,
'Ah, traitor Malatesta'; said, 'Let us go right on
where our fortune and our country's fortune
leads us. This will make us conquerors in every
w^ay. Nor, although we are fewer in numbers,
ought we to distrust ourselves, be it in expe-
rience or in our present courage, and especially
w^e ought to trust in the great and good God,
who with perfect justice and knowing our good
end, will supply with his power where our
strength is wanting.'

"Having said these w^ords with great confi-
dence, and making a sign to the soldiers to fol-
loAv him, he advanced before the others without
fear, saying only: 'Soldiers, do not abandon me
this day.' He arrived at the gate where his first
squadrons had entered: when from another
direction was heard the rumor thatMaramaldo

ITALIAN LITERATURE 203

had passed through the breach in the wall and
had put his infantry within.

Meanwhile a cruel fight began with gun-shot
on each side, which w^ent on increasing, when
Ferruccio, having arrived on the piazza of the
castle, leaped from his horse, seized a pike and
fought valiantly against Maramaldo; while he
also, having taken the corners of the road,
showed himself terrible. The prince had not yet
arrived at the wall; but hearing that the battle
had already commenced, he spurred himself
forward, as a brave youth, to take part in it.
And, in ascending the hill by the steepest path,
he was accidentally hit by a gun shot, where-
upon suddenly falling from his horse, he lost his
life. When the report of the prince's death had
spread, Ferruccio's soldiers cried out: "Victory!"
Which was considered certain, since the caval-
ry, knowing of this death, began to flee. But the
German squadron which was half- a mile behind,
checked the impetus of those who fled. And
maintaining order, it marched forward; and a
cruel battle having begun again between the
captains within and without, they made those
fewwithin retire: who were not able to sustain
such a heavy attack, but w^orked on with great
valor. And Ferruccio now weary with the heat
of the day and the fatigue of fighting withdrew
with signer Orsini to a little hut, in which a

204 HISTORY OF

little later they were made prisoners: the greater
part of his troops either fell into the power of
the enemy or w^ere deprived of life.

Ferruccio armed was conducted into the
pi-esence of Maramaldo; who reviling him with
abusive language for the injuries received from
him at Volterra, said to him: "You have at
last fallen into my hands." To which Fer-
ruccio replied, that had happened to him which
might have happened to Maramaldo. He was
by the command of Maramaldo disarmed, and
wounded by him with a sword -thrust in the
neck with much disdain; the other soldiers then
finished him with many wounds."

Benedetto Varchi (1502-1565), "in whom,"
says J. A. Symonds, "the flame of Florentine
patriotism burns brightest," led a life so varied
and gave proof of power so versatile, that it is
hard to sum it all up in a short sketch. Studying
Law in early youth and exercising the profession
of a notary, Yarchi sprang to the defense of
Florence during the Siege, and upon being
defeated and exiled, threw himself with ardor
into literary pursuits. While he was making
himself famous as a student of the Greek lan-
guage and of modern Philosophy in Venice,
Padua and Bologna, Cosimo I called him back
to Florence, offering him a stipend if he w^ould
write the History of the period which intervened

ITALIAN LITERATURE 205

between the second expulsion of the Medici,
1527, and the time of their return, 1531. Yar-
chi is accused of having sold his pen to Cosimo,
but his book exonerates him from the charge,
and while he was at work upon it, he was
assaulted at night and pierced with many
wounds, a report having gotten out that he
was unfavorable in his History to certain per-
sons high in office.

After this Varchi continued the writing of
his History in secresy, bringing it down to 1538
and committing it to posterity, according to
the example of his fellow -writers. He was not,
however, obliged to forego the pleasures of
praise in his life - time. He was an orator, and
pronounced funeral orations which were elo-
quent; he was a poet, and published lyrics and
eclogues; a grammarian, and his "Ercolano" (1)
is a distinguished proof of it; he was an interpre-
ter, and translated elegantly the treatise of Sen-
eca "De Beneficiis" and the "Consolationes" of
Boethius. But in one of his critical works he
places the "Girone"of Alamanni above the "Or-
lando Furioso," and this exposed him to un-
merciful ridicule.

Varchi also took the wrong side in one of
the most celebrated literary contests that has

(1) The Dialogue is so called because the interlocu-
tors are Varchi and Count Oesare Ercolano.

206 HISTORY OF

ever been placed on record. It -was between
the poets Caro and Castelvetro, and began sim-
ply with the criticism by the latter of a Sonnet
of Caro's in praise of the royal House of Valois,
beginning,

" Come into the shade of the lillies of gold,"

but the controversy went so far, that Caro ac-
cused Castelvetro to the Inquisition, which
persecuted and exiled him. Throughout the
whole of the bitter w^arfare Yarchi took the
part of Caro, whom he said he regarded as a
brother, rather than a friend.

It is more to the credit of Varchi that he en-
joyed the friendship of Bembo, and exchanged
sonnets with the distinguished poetess, TuUia
d'Aragona.

At the age of sixty-two Varchi took holy
orders, and Cosimo conferred on him the pro-
vostship of Montevarchi, but he did not live to
take charge of his office. The vicissitudes of his
life invest his voluminous History with more
than ordinary interest. The turning point in
Varchi's favor seems to be in reference to the
Siege; for while no less alive than the Ottimati
to the insecurity of Carducci's policy, he shows
himself animated by a more truly democratic
spirit. In fact, Symonds says "a wonderful
mixture of candor, enthusiasm, and zeal for
truth makes Yarchi incomparable."

ITALIAN LITERATURE 207

I have read with interest and with horror
his detailed account of the murder of Alessandro
de' Medici by his kinsman, commonly called
Lorenzino de' Medici, to distinguish him from
Lorenzo, Duke of Urbino, the antitype of Mac-
chiavelli's "Prince." I have taken account of
Varchi' s succint review of Macchiavelli , in
which he tells us that ' 'the author of the "Prince"
was pleasant in conversation, obliging to his
friends, a friend of virtuous men, and in short,
deserved that nature should have given him ei-
ther less talent or a better heart." It is gen-
erally conceded that Yarchi has brought some
discredit upon his pages by the relation of the
horrid crime of Pier Luigi Farnese, who was
the patron of his friend Caro. But for the
specialist and the encyclopedist this diffuse
History has an incontestable value, and centu-
ries may pass away before the world has
exhausted the information it contains.

The novelist. Ma tteo Bandello, (1480-1561)
claims our attention for what he did not do
rather than because of any distinctive merit in
his compositions. We are at once impressed by
the marked inferiority of the novels to the
poems of this period. In fact, Bandello would
not deserve any notice, did he not stand out
conspicuously as the only cinquecentist who
cared to tell his tales in prose.

208 HISTORY OF

Boi-n in Castelnuovo in Piedmont, and
becoming a Dominican monk in the Convent
delle Grazie at Milan, his Uncle, who was gen-
eral of this order of monks , permitted the
restless young man to break away from its
restrictions and accompany him to Rome and
Naples. Bandello caught the hterary fever, and
when on returning to Milan, he w^as driven by
the Spaniards to France, and was made Bishop
of Agen by Henry II, he at last found himself in
a position to go on with his novels without
disturbance. They were brought out in three
volumes at Lucca in 1554, and a fourth volume
w^as published after his death.

These Tales are strikingly like those of Boc-
caccio, with a degree less of vigor in the telling
(though the style is clear and fluent) and two
or three degrees more of refinement and good
taste in the stories. I give a synopsis of the one
that has been pronounced the best by a modern
Italian: it is entitled, "The wonderful Joke
played by a Lady on two Barons of Hungary":

A brave cavalier, who w^as a vassal of Mat-
thias Corvinus, king of Hungary, sought in
marriage a rich young noblewoman; but finding
he could not maintain her according to her
former estate, resolved to return to the court of
Hungary and render such services to the king,
that he would be suitably rewarded. He is

ITALIAN LITERATURE 209

afraid to leave his young wife, and goes to
a Polish astrologer to know how to protect her.
The astrologer tells him that women are all
untrustworthy, and paints the Hungarian a
little picture of his wife, which he is to carry in
his pocket, and it will change color according
to her fidelity.

At a convivial feast in Hungary the cavalier,
whose name is Scipio, is twitted upon having
such absurd faith in his wife, and the chief
rallier tells him that "woman is mobile and
volatile, and the most ambitious animal in the
world." The discussion ends in two barons'
resolving to test the fidelity of the young wife;
and Scipio is to have all their wealth if they
fail.

One of them, named Alberto, visits the lady
in her castle, and she tells him to go to a certain
little room and there she will meet him. He
goes there and this little room proves to be a
prison which is locked by the person who enters
and shuts the door. There was a spinning wheel
in the prison and he was told that if he spun
much, good food would be brought him, if little,
simply bread and water. He was to be liberated
only w^hen he had confessed the cause that
brought him there and after he had done much
spinning.

Signor Scipio now looks at his little picture

210 HISTORY OF

and rejoices much over its unchangeableness.

Then SignorFederico sets out for the castle,
to see what he can do. The same fate befalls
him. And the lady Barbara then sends her
husband an account of it. Signor Scipio tells
the King and Queen, and they decide that he
shall have the possessions of the two barons,
who shall be banished from the kingdom on
pain of death.

All this was put in immediate execution; the
lord and lady reward the astrologer, and live
long in happiness and peace; while as for the
banished, lords, "it is commonly believed that
desperate and scorned, they made themselves
turks."

This story of the complete triumph of a brave,
high-spirited woman sets the ball in motion
w^hich is to produce the modern novel. It mil
not stop until it has completely annihilated all
the Tom Joneses and the Roderick Randoms.

We feel, however, that Bandello's greatest
claim upon our regard is his version of "Romeo
and Juliet;" for while he only embellished the
original story of Luigi Da Porto, Shakespeare
was indebted for it solely to Bandello. (1)

The provinces oi literature and Art again

(1) The reader may be interested in knowing that
the "Merchant of Venice" and "Othello" were taken
from" II Hecatomithi of Giraldi Cintio, 1500-1550.

ITALIAN LITERATURE 211

overlap in the life of Giorgio Vasari, painter,
architect and biographer. Born at Arezzo in
1512, Yasari studied Design in childhood and
in early youth was placed under Michelangelo
and Andrea del Sarto. But when his father died
of pestilence, he found himself obliged to sup-
port three sisters and two brothers as w^ell as
himself. After many changes and constant
exertion, he entered the service of the Cardinal
Ippolito de' Medici and was given every aid in
the pursuit of art. Later, fortune assigned him
a place near Clement VII and a position at the
Court of Alexander, Duke of Florence. But it
was during the latter part of his life that Vasari
accomplished his works of painting and archi-
tecture in Arezzo, Pisa, Florence, Rome, and
other cities, and also set himself to leave on
record everything that he knew, or could find
out, about the great Artists who would make
this age illustrious for all time.

With the exuberance and wildly luxuriant
nature of the Italian genius at its best, Vasari
lacked the self-control of Alberti, Da Vinci and
Michael Angelo. His best work was in archi-
tecture and may be seen to - day in the Palazzo
Vecchio and the Loggia degli Uffizi of Florence.
His prodigality in painting was his ruin in this
branch of Art, but we remember with pleasure

212 HISTORY OF

his pictures in the Colonna Palace at Rome and
in the Cathedral of Pisa.

Vasari is, however, the biographer par excel-
lence of the Renaissance. And the ardor and
generosity with w^hich he w^rites of his contem-
poraries reminds us of the French rather than
of the Italians. His w^ork is in 7 large volumes,
and new editions and translations are issued
to-day. Of course one notes many interesting
facts in the gossipy Vasari which cannot be
transcribed here. His quotations from Dante
are forceful, and he says he has in his possession
some of the work of Oderigi d'Aggobbio and
Franco Bolognese, to whom Dante alludes in
the 11th of the Purgatorio.

In the glowing praise of Leonardo daVinci,
Michelangelo and Raphael Vasari is at his best,
and students of the native literature will find
copious extracts from these "Lives" in their
compendiums. It is Vasari who preserved for
us Giov. Battista Strozzi's lines on Michelange-
lo's Night :

"The Night, here wrapped in sleep so heavenly,
Was by an angel sculptured in this stone ;
She sleeps, but is alive ; this you will own,
For if you wake her, she will speak to thee."

And the reply ascribed to Michelangelo :

" Grateful to me is sleep : to be of stone still more.
While wrong and shame their wicked works devise ;
To see not, not to feel is fortune's prize :
O wake me not; speak low, I do implore."

ITALIAN LITERATURE 213

— a valuable revelation of the attitude of the
great genius towards the tyrants who patro-
nized him.

To gain an idea, however, of Vasari's mag-
nanimous spirit it is necessary to turn to his
chapter on Celebrated Women, where he says :

"It is a remarkable thing that in all those
arts and exercises in which, in any age, women
have wished to participate with any ardor,
they have always reached the point of excellence
and become more than famous; as with an in-
finity of examples it would be very easy to show.

And certainly everyone knows how^ univer-
sally they excel in economic affairs, besides that
in the things of war even one knows who was
Camilla, Arpalice, Valasca, Tomyris, Penthe-
silea, Molpadia, Oritia, Antiope, Ippolita, Se-
miramide, Zenobia; who, finally, was Fulvia of
Marcantonio, who, as says Dion, the historian,
many times armed herself to defend her husband
and herself. But in poetry still more they have
been most marvelous, as relates Pausanias. Co-
rinna was very celebrated in versifying; and
Eustazio in the catalogue of the ships of Homer
makes mention of Sappho, a most honored
maiden, ( the same mentioned by Eusebius in
the book of the Times ) who although indeed
she was a woman, w^as such an one that she

214 HISTORY OF

■was superior by a great deal to all the excellent
writers of that age."

"But certainly in no other age is this better
known than in ours; -where w^omen have w^on
the greatest fame not only in the pursuit of
literature, as have now the signora Yittoria
Colonna, the signora Veronica Gambara, the
signora CaterinaAnguissola, la Schioppa.la Nu-
garola, madonna Laura Battiferra and a hun-
dred others, in their native tongue as well as in
the Latin and Greek most learned, but even
in all the other departments. Nor are they
ashamed, to take from us the boast of superio-
rity, to put their white hands in mechanical
things and amid the roughness of marbles and
the harshness of iron to execute their w^ishes
and carry off fame, as did in our day Properzia
de' Rossi of Bologna. All the men envied her.
She was very beautiful and excelled in everything
she undertook. By the caprice and versatility of
her talent she began by carving the kernels of
peaches. She then sculptured the. ornamen-
tation of the three doors of San Petronio in Bo-
logna."

Then Vasari praises Sister Plautilla Nelli,
■who w^as living w^hen he wrote, and tells us
that we can see her painting of the Deposition
in the Academy of Fine Arts in Florence. He
also praises madonna Lucrezia Quistelli della

ITALIAN LITERATURE 215

Mirandola and Sofonisba Anguissola as great
painters, and tells how Philip of Spain sent for
the latter and kept her at his court.adding that
there were sent to Duke Cosimo pictures from
the hands of Sofonisba and Michelangelo at the
same time.

Perhaps no name stands for the debasement
and atrocity of the Renaissance more emphati-
cally than that of Benvenuto Cellini. It is a
common impression that he performed his devo-
tions regularly and systematically while he
boasted at the same time that there was no
crime he had not committed. In the various
capacities of gold -worker, sculptor, founder,
medailleur and writer, this strange man has
been pronounced by his art -loving and critical
countrymen "eccellentissimo." We view his
bronze group of "Perseus with the Head of Me-
dusa" in the Loggia dei Lanzi of Florence, and
his splendid shield in Windsor Castle with
unbounded admiration. So that from many
points of view we come to the reading of his
pages with great expectations.

In telling the story of his own "Life," Cellini
has no reservations, and pours out his confi-
dences w^ith a child's spontaneity and delight.
It is easy to see why the Italians were pleased
with this sort of writing, for from the time of
the sublime Dante they had known nothing of

216 HISTORY OF

that naivete, which invests anything in the
form of self- revelation with a fascinating power.
At this point we see how strikingly the Ital-
ians differ from the French. The French have
always prized erudition; but it must conceal
itself in the guise of natural power, charm, en-
thusiasm or taste. The Italians value only that
which bears the marks of study, toil, polish,
Art. With the French "it is the height of Art to
conceal Art;" with the Italians everything of
merit must speak in the language of Art. Cellini
pleased his countrymen by defying them, by
proving that he could entertain them in a new^
w^ay, and by showing them that no attainment
was beyond their reach.

To us his ruffiatj^^onfidences are somewhat
atoned for by the vivid, realistic way in which
he depicts his age. As gold-w^orker, founder
and medailleur he w^as on a familiar footing
with Clement VII, who, he often declares, "was
in a bestial fury;" with Paul III, who absolved
Cellini for a homicide, and turning to the apos-
tolic notary, said: "You know men like Benve-
nuto, unique in their profession, are not obliged
to obey the laws;" with Francis I of France, at
whose court he received the same stipend given
Leonardo da Vinci, and in whose halls of justice
Cellini found an explanation of one of the most
obscure and difficult passages of Dante; and with

ITALIAN LITERATURE 217

Cosimo I of Florence, for whom he made his
statue of Perseus, and under whose protection,
at the age of 58, he began to write this "Life."

Rambling on in his free and easy style Celli-
ni tells us of his acquaintance with Bembo, of
his quarrels with Vasari, of his friendship with
Luigi Alamanni, of the beautiful letter written
him in praise of his Perseus by the divine Michel-
angelo; of the sonnet written upon the rumor
of his death by Varchi.

As to his moral character, Cellini seems to
have possessed but the one virtue of physical
courage. The common report that he performed
regular devotions is utterly refuted by his book.
On the occasion of a serious illness he did, in-
deed, turn his thoughts to religion, and towards
the close of his life thought of wearing the
tonsure as an expiation for his crimes. But he
frankly describes himself as insensible to the
refinements of morality.

Cellini's artistic temperament, his ecstacy
over his work, the devotion, toil, patience and
perseverance which he displayed in that work,
all these have endeared him to lovers of art,
and never has a moral delinquent been more
fully forgiven. But there is so much that is
repulsive, shocking and abominable in his book,
that no modern Italian ever speaks of it with-
out reprehension,even though valuing its enrich-

218 HISTORY OF

ment of the Literature. For myself, I do not
admire Cellini's careless writing, ungrammatic-
al, slovenly and unpolished as it is. While he re-
minds us of Boccaccio and Bandello in his tastes,
he deviates widely from them in his skill.

The Religious Poet of the Renaissance.

In Yittoria Colonna -we find the highest
type of the advanced woman, the pioneer of
her sex, who, mutatis mutandis, bears the same
characteristics in every age. She bends her no-
blest energies to the development of her own
best gifts, magnifies them and rejoices in them,
that she may spur the world to holier living
and happier abiding. Though a married wo-
man, she never dreams of being merged in
the individuality of another; though raised by
her princely position above all need of work^
she ceases not to toil day and night in the most
exacting kind of labor; she follows no prescribed
form of feminine occupation, but places herself on
an equal footing with the most distinguished
men of her age; above all, she is absolutely true
to those diviner instincts which draw her
Heavenward and bows in meekest adoration
before the precepts of revealed religion.

Such is the portrait the Colonnese has un-
consciously painted of herself in her beautiful
Poems. It is a mistake to divide these into
Secular Poems and Religious Poems. Poetry

220 HISTORY OF

as a Fine Art has always occupied itself with all
that man holds sacred, and lyric poetry takes
the highest rank psychologically because it is the
soul's revelation of itself, and needs no further
witness.

He who knows nothing of the charms of
poetry is poverty-stricken in mind and soul; but
he who has not discovered that in poetry are
treasured up the deepest truths of philosophy
and religion must be doomed as a mental
pauper to live on the charity of others. The
noble Vittoria does indeed seize upon this
means to show her power as an artist, and as
a disciple of the Petrarchian school we could not
expect her to show less delight in the technique
of her art than was shown so universally
by those who were less skilled. But she says
(Sonnet XLVIII) "from her first years Heaven
made her heart to noble w^orks as soft wax to a
solid seal, and her ardent breast the secret and
trusted abode where her lofty spirit often di-
vested itself of beautiful thoughts."

And though the Marquis of Pescara is the
avowed subject of the whole body of Vittoria's
miscellaneous poems, how^ decided is her di-
vergence from the infatuated imitators of Pe-
trarch who surround her. This love of hers is,
itself, a large part of Vittoria's religion. She
says "it drew her out of every worldly error;"

ITALIAN LITERATURE 221

it "inflamed her to avoid the ire and the decep-
tions of the world and to despise this mortal
coil." In one of her most passionate effusions
(Sonnet LXXVII) after asking "what rich gift,
w^hat holy and pious wish, what humble prayer
w^ith pure faith offered could show her hus-
band's worth," she replies,

" I have made my own heart sacred to you,

Which has already suffered for you a thousand wounds.

And still you see it naked and open.

Soft with weeping and hot with desire."

All of these sonnets might be rightly called,
'The praise of marriage as a Divine Institution.'
This is openly acknowledged by Pietro Bembo,
who, in exchanging Sonnets with the Marche-
sana, tells her that her spouse "is happy, in
that he sees from the bless'd kingdom how holy
is her love," and that "she herself is noble be-
cause she has immortalized her chaste marital
affection." The Sonnet (No. XXXVII) in which
Vittoria "envies the fate of the parents of Fran-
cesco Molza, who die on the same day," is one
of the most beautiful tributes to Christian
Marriage that has ever been penned.

Never was the scriptural injunction "Be-
courteous" more exquisitely exemplified than
by this devout woman. She congratulates
Bembo upon his "Asolani;" weeps with Molza
on the death of his parents; writes an obituary

222 HISTORY OF

sonnet on Jacopo Sannazzaro; thanks Paolo
Giovio for his Life of Pescara; sets forth the
merits of Guidiccioni, and praises her rival, Ve-
ronica Gambara, to the skies.

Long before she turns her attention ex-
clusively to sacred themes, we find refreshing al-
lusions to Bible narratives, as, for instance, in
Sonnet XVII, where, sporting like a gymnast
with her Petrarchian title for her husband —
" il mio bel sole," she yet w^rites:

" When from my rocky isle I look around
And in the red dawn view the earth and sky,
Within my heart the mists mount up so high,
That vanished is the loveliness I found.

Thought rises with the sun ; and I am bound
To mine, whose rays the heavenly ones outvie,
And from this other one, as time goes by,
He calls my soul with his own dulcet sound.

And like Elias in his flery car.

Though with its golden one the amorous mind

Feigns him to come and burst the envious bar,

And change the fate that has been so unkind

To an eternal bliss ; then not so far

The spirit feels the state for which it pined."

But elevated and charming as we find this
portion of her work, it gives no intimation of
the power and scope of that which is to fol-
low. The Italians speak of her "stupendous
thoughts," and when we remember that the
delicate and difficult problems of a "new the-
ology" had prostrated many of the finest intel-
lects of that age, we are indeed astounded at

ITALIAN LITERATURE 223

the magnificent mental poise displayed by the

Marchesana. It is through such writings as

those of Vittoria Colonna that we make the

glad discovery that there never has been, nor

yet can be, a new theology. We use the term

only to express a new intellectual aspect of

spiritual truths; but the spiritual truths

themselves are the same "which were spoken by

the mouth of the holy prophets, which have

been since the world began." In proof of this

let me adduce the 19th Sonnet of the Religious

Poems:

" Ah ! could I see by faith that burns and lives
How God created us in love alone,
How for our sins His sufferings did atone,
How man ungratefully that love receives ;

How He sustains us ; and how freely gives
With bounteous hand His riches, pouring down
His treasures ; for each caring as a son,
And most for one who loves Him and believes.

And how in His eternal blest abode.

He clothes it all afresh with joy's own light.

When a strong warrior He can prize and love ;

But since through my own sin to such a height
My earth - born thoughts can never find the road,
How He can pardon I at least can prove."

The vast superiority of these sonnets to all
those with which the w^orld was then flooded
favors the suggestion, as in the case of Dante,
that "the human mind does not know how-
strong it can prove itself until it is consecrated
to the truth."

224 HISTOEY OF

But if we are carried up to heights of gran-
deur and sublimity in these Poems, and in the
contemplation of objective truth feel the insig-
nificance of earthly fate, we must acknowledge
that our poet has placed us under a still greater
weight of obligation in the revelation of her
personal experience. In the exquisite tenderness
with which she speaks to us heart to heart, we
feel the quickening of our own devotional life,
and we breathe out our prayers in her lines.

The great era of the Reformation is brought
before us in these celebrated sonnets, and we
see that though revealed truth is perceived to
be the same in every age, questions of ecclesi-
astical procedure may agitate the strongest
minds. Vittoria reflects this agitation, but
shows herself calm and unperturbed by the din
around her. What repose, serenity and peace
we find in Sonnet XLIX !

" The eye Divine of the eternal sphere,

Which sees whate'er in the wide world takes place.

Lifts from the loving spirit by His grace.

The frigid doubtings of a servile fear ;

The thoughts, the words, the faiths of all appear

Plainly before His omnipresent face ;

No power will He suffer, nor a base

Deceit to keep prayer from His listening ear.

'Neath His just empire and sweet rule secure
We should not, like our parents in the garden,
Blame others with our errors dark and dim ;

ITALIAN LITERATURE 225

But with hope kindled aiid repentance pure,
Passing beyond the priest's robe and his pardon,
We should lay open all our faults to Him."

In the biographical sketch we noticed Vit-
toria's friendship for Bernardino Ochino. None
the less remarkable was her loyalty to the
Church of her birth and the great dignitaries
who adorned it. Her sonnets to Pope Paul III
and to the Cardinals, Pole, Bembo, Colonna
and Contarini, give us one of the few examples
of a person in power subordinating everything
to personal holiness. Too often have the rich,
the great, the powerful given us reason to
associate them with mere material gratification
and earthly pleasure. But here we find that a
princess, who receives constant adulation, and
lives her whole life in ease, can find in life an
ideal basis and prove that she is nobly planned
" To warn, to comfort and command."

In her sonnet to the Cardinal Gaspare Con-
tarini she likens the Caspar, who, as one of the
Magi, followed the star in the East, to her noble
friend and says:

" When upon earth the great sun from the skies

Came down, he chose wise Gaspar to convey

The wondrous tidings and to rend away

The veil of ignorance from mortal eyes.

Swift to behold Him, with hot zeal he flies.

And his example teaches us to stay

Our eyes, too, on that bright star's burning ray,

Which melts the ice that round our hard hearts lies.

226 HISTORY OF

Now that He's born again in us, again

A Gaspar He selects, to show that we

In Him alone perfection can attain.

One saw Him mortal, but in Heaven's domain

The other sees Him, God, and on bent knee

Adores with rapturous love of heart and brain. (1)

And thus the poet shows us that in the de-
vout personal piety of such men as Contarini
the Roman Church rolled back the mighty "wrave
of Protestantism, and again made good the
Divine promise: "I will not destroy it for the
ten's sake."

Finally, literary fame and public praise do
not extinguish the domestic aflfections in this
celebrated w^oman. There is no relation in life
of w^hich she does not embalm- some tender
memory in her verses. Forsaken, crushed and
lonely as her own heart is, she pours the oil of
joy upon the wounds of others; and for a remote
age and distant lands she has a message of
w^isdom, words of consolation, thoughts that
bring peace.

fl) The translation of this sonnet is kindly con-
tributed by my father, Charles E. Trail.

The first two translations are my own ; but in the
one following these my labors were lightened by a
quaint little volume entitled " The In Memoriam of
Italy " and published anonymously.

A Study of Ariosto.

Everyone who reads is familiar with the
name of Ariosto. Everyone knows that it stands
no longer for a man, but for a literary master-
piece; that it constitutes one of Italy's claims
to greatness and epitomizes a brilliant period
of European History. Ariosto, himself, defines
this species of impersonal immortality w^hen he
speaks (Canto XXXII, 1, 2,) of the illustrious
painters, Parrhasius, Apollodorus, Zeuxis and
Apelles, and reminds us that though their works
have perished, their genius will be perpetuated
forever simply by the number and renown of
the w^riters who allude to them.

But unlike the works of the Greek painters,
that of Ariosto has not perished. It not only
exists, but challenges us to discover for ourselves
why his name rounds a rhetorical period with
so much force, and how^ it has come to pass
that a mere mention of it obliterates his con-
temporaries in such literary lands as France
and England.

And if vire take the trouble to study the
'Orlando Furioso" we shall soon see that we.

228 HISTORY OF

must search in vain for anything to take the
place of this great master -piece; — a charming
romance of chivalry; a drama abounding in
exquisite situations; a poem in which beauty of
language vies with beauty of sentiment; an
epic in which the wealth of incident suggests
thoughts of infinity; a work, finally, in which
the wit, the faith, the learning, the philosophy
of the Renaissance itself are embodied.

The story opens with preparations for the
great battle which is to take place between the
French and the Saracens, as an explanation of
the situation of the beautiful Angelica, loved
both by Count Orlando and his scarcely less
distinguished cousin, Rinaldo. Angelica is
evidently a prisoner of war and is held by Char-
lemagne as a prize to be given to the knight
who on this eventful day shall

"Bender most effective aid to the lilies of gold."
We shall follow the fortunes of the hapless
girl who seems thus to be the sport of war with
the greater interest, perhaps, because her pre-
vious history is as shrouded in mystery as her
future fate.

The cousins, Orlando, Signor d'Anglante, and
Rinaldo, Signor di Montalbano, are not less
aspirants for her hand than the pagans Ferraii,
the proud Spaniard, and Sacripante, king of
Circassia. When, then, the French are defeated.

ITALIAN LITERATURE 229

Angelica seizes Rinaldo's horse and dashes oflf
into the forest. Ofcourse Rinaldo attempts to
follow, but is delayed by a sharp contest with
Ferrafi, and meanwhile Angelica meets Sacri-
pante and resolves to travel under his pro-
tecting care.

The keynote of the Poem, however, is struck
in interweaving the name of Ruggiero with the
House of Este, and we are compelled to follow
the fortunes of this redoubtable champion and
"his betrothed bride, Bradamante, with as much
ardor as we bestow upon the others. In her
search for her lost lover Bradamante visits the
enchantress, Melissa, and receives instructions
about the magic ring, which when on the finger
renders enchantments vain, and held in the
mouth makes it possessor invisible. After in-
numerable adventures, Bradamante finds Rug-
giero in Atlante's castle, and just as she is
■compelling him to free his prisoners, the wily
villain makes Ruggiero mount his hippogriffe,
and away he goes through the air and is lost
to sight and sound.

At this point Ariosto takes up that wand
w^hich has made him the prince of wizards, and
w^e do not know whether w^e are laughing at
him or he at us. Such drollery, such broad,
farcial merriment has never been made before or
since. In the driest, soberest style he tells us

230 HISTORY OF

there are so many enchantments in this world,
so many spells at work, so many unaccountable
things and people; and then as his story de-
velops he seems to say: "Now don't you see?
How can such and such a thing be accounted
for on any other hypothesis?"

But what has become of Angelica? At last
w^e learn that she has been found by the corsairs
of Ebuda and is now exposed to the Orcus, the
fabled sea-monster of the Dark Ages, to be
devoured. By the mysterious bond of sympathy,
Orlando, who is with his Uncle Charlemagne in
Paris, knows and feels that his "sweet life" is in
some imminent peril.

" And now in every place the ■wearied frame
Eepose unto the labored soul decrees,
To those on beds and those whom hard rocks maim.
Those on the grass 'neath beech and myrtle trees :
Thine eyelids, my Orlando, feel sleep's claim,
But grievous thoughts have tak'n away thy ease.
And not ev'n this — a brief and fleeting sleep —
Can they in joy and peace now let thee keep.

Orlando seems to see on a green sward,
Coloured by flowers of the sweetest scent,
That wondrous ivory, that crimson poured
By Love, — the tint when he his own hand lent.
And the two lovely stars so clear, where soared
Souls caught in nets spread with Love's own intent.
I speak about her eyes, her face so fair.
From out his breast his very heart they tear.

He feels the greatest pleasure, greatest joy

That any happy lover ever felt :

But lo 1 a tempest issues to destroy.

Upon the flowers and plants hard blows are dealt.

ITALIAN LITEEATUKE 231

Not forces like to these do winds employ
When North and South and East together tilt.
Some covering to find he seems to seek.
Wand'ring in vain thro' deserts bare and bleak.

Meanwhile the unhappy one (he knows not how)
Loses his lady thro the dusky air ;
With his own name on this side, on that now,
The fields and woods resound, awakening fear.
And while he speaks — his misery to avow —
And asks who changed his rapture to despair,
He hears his lady plaintively demand
His aid, and to him then herself commend.

Whither that call has summoned there he speeds.

Hither and thither laboring to move, —

O harsh and bitter grief when now recedes

That ray of light, barring him from his love !

Behold elsewhere a voice, while his heart bleeds

He hears : " Hope not for her where'er thou 'dst rove" !

And wakened by this agony of fears,

He finds himself bathed in a fiood of tears.

Not thinking his imaginings all vain, —

His dreams created by desires or fears.

Only his loved one he must needs regain,

Whom he now deems a prey to shame or tears.

And from his bed he leaps, cursing such pain.

With plate and mail — all that a brave knight wears —

He clothes himself and Brigliadoro takes.

Nor least request of any esquire makes.

At midnight hour he silently departs,

Nor to his Uncle any mention makes:

To speak the word adieu, tho' close their hearts.

Not ev'n his Brandimarte he awakes.

But when the sun with scattered golden darts

Its gorgeous dwelling plainly now forsakes,

And drives the dusky shadows from their lair,

The king knows then the knight is no more there."

But Orlando is not destined to rescue Angel-
ica. He is only the hero of the people. He is

232 HISTORY OF

French, and not Italian. Cardinal Ippolito and
Ariosto know very well that the real hero is
Ruggiero — on the hippogriffe, accompanied, if
you will, by what we even yet call luck and as
such a hero worth immortalizing,

Ruggiero overcomes the monster by blind-
ing him with an enchanted shield, and, giving
the magic ring to Angelica, she immediately
puts it in her mouth, becomes invisible and
w^anders off at her own sweet will. As the poet
says,

" But turn we to Angelica a while,

Who bears with her the ring of wondrous charm,

Which on her finger saves from mortal guile,

And in her mouth blinds all who'd save or harm.

Now having in a mountain cave erewhile

roun4 food and horse and dress, — all that would arm

For painful journey, — had design to roam

Towards India and her own beloved home.

Gladly Orlando would she fain enlist.
Or Sacripante, for companion now,
Not that she held one of them dear, she wist
She was rebellious to the binding vow.
But trav'ling to the Levant 'twould assist
In passing towns and beetling castle's brow,
To have a friend and helper at her side.
Nor could she trust as much another guide.

One or the other long time then she sought,
Ere indication or a hope appeared ;
Sometimes in towns and now in cities'mart.
Now in deep woods, anon the highways neared.
Orlando's haunt now kindly fortune taught.
Where Sacripante and Ferraii steered.
With brave Euggiero, Gradasso and those
Whom old Atlante wrapped in magic's close'.

ITALIAN LITERATURE 233

She eaters there, th'enchanter sees her not,
And searches all, concealed still by the ring,
And finds Orlando's, Sacripante's lot
To search for her — in vain — still on the wing.
She sees how feigning her, Atlante's plot
Involves for all fraud and deceptions sting.
And much she ponders, studying in her heart
"Whom she shall turn from the magician's art."

But Angelica concludes to go on her way
alone, and the next incident of importance is the
Moors' assault on Paris and the death of their
king, Dardinello. The touching episode of "faith-
ful and pleasing Medoro, who has loved his lord
in life and in death," and who in penetrating
the Christian camp to obtain his lord's lifeless
body, is grievously wounded, stirs our deepest
interest, as it does that of Angelica, passing by
this way.

Angelica gives her heart and her hand to
Medoro, and then the deep minor strain of the
Poem manifests itself in episodes which lead up
to the revelation of Orlando's madness. The
most striking of these is the beautiful love story
of Isabella and Zerbino.

It is soon after Orlando has restored Isa-
bella to Zerbino that he arrives at the spot
where Angelica and Medoro were married and
where they have left all sorts of words, sen-
tences and inscriptions testifying to the fact.
Orlando's heart sinks within him at sight of the
first of these, but the increasing number of the

234 HISTORY OF

statements presses home the certainty of his ir-
revocable loss, and overwhelming grief drives
reason from its throne. The celebrated stanzas
describing his unhappy condition may be found
in Longfellow's "Poets and Poetry of Europe."

It is his devoted friend, Oliver, (or Oliviero)
who at length rescues the wretched Orlando,
and this is for the purpose of rejoicing over the
conversion of Ruggiero, with whom and the re-
nowned Bradamante every episode in this
labyrinthine tale is in someway connected. The
story ofcourse ends with their happy marriage
and final conquest over every enemy. We do
not expect to remember all that has happened,
but we cannot forget the Amazon, Marfisa, the
heroine above all others peculiar to chivalry,
and the prototype of Spenser's Britomart and
Tasso's Clorinda. Ariosto's admiration for the
fair sex admirably qualified him to be the poet
of chivalry. He often alludes to the great
women of antiquity and by name to Sappho,
Corinna, Arpalice, Camilla, Tomyris, Zenobia
and Dido. Several exquisite stanzas are de-
voted to a eulogy of Vittoria Colonna, and
flattering allusions are made to Lucrezia Bor-
gia, Isabella of Ferrara, Lucrezia Bentivoglio
and other celebrated women of the, 16th cen-
tury.

The Poem embraces descriptions of famous

ITALIAN LITERATURE 235

sculptures, references to the renowned warriors
of the age, mention of illustrious painters, and
praise of fellow-writers. Claiming to be the
work of an improvisator, hurrying us on in its
sudden transitions, its laughable explanations
with a gaiety, a brilliancy, a vivacity found
nowhere else in all Literature, it is really the
work of an accomplished scholar, carrying us
through the great social revolution embodied in
Chivalry and bringing us out into the open day
of Modern History. And when we find that in
view of the end intended the charms of language
have never been carried to greater perfection,
we understand why the "Orlando Furioso"
must ever be numbered among the glories of
Italy and the treasures of the world.

Macchiavefli and His "Prince."

Before attempting a discussion of this cele-
brated treatise, it may be well to transcribe
such passages as constitute its distinctive
character.

In Chapter III under the subject of mixed
principalities we read:

" Either make a man your friend, or put it
out of his power to be your enemy. He may
revenge a slight injury, but a great one deprives
him of his power to avenge. Hence the injury
should be of such magnitude that the prince
shall have nothing to dread from his ven-
geance."

Chapter V treats of newly conquered
countries and we are told that the safest way
to treat them is to ruin them. For otherwise
"whoever becomes master of a free state and
does not destroy it, may expect to be ruined by
it himself."

Chapter VII gives us a highly laudatory ac-
count of Caesar Borgia, commonly called Duke
Valentino, who humbled the powerful family
of the Colonne at Rome by corrupting all the

ITALIAN LITERATURE 237

persons of distinction who adhered to them
either by bribes, appointments or commands;
who gained over one member of the Orsini fam-
ily by rich presents and friendly offices so that
the others were prevailed on to attend the duke
at an interview^ at Sinigaglia, where they were
all treacherously murdered; who subjugated
Romagna by appointing Ramiro d'Orco, acruel,
brutal man, as governor, and causing him to be
massacred and publicly exposed upon a gibbet
as soon as he had satisfied the Duke's ferocity.

" Upon a thorough review of the Duke's
conduct and actions," says Macchiavelli, " I
cannot reproach him with having omitted any
precaution; and I feel that he merits being pro-
posed as a model to all who by fortune or for-
eign arms suceed in acquiring sovereignty."

It is not, however, until we reach Chapter
XV that we come upon the frank avowal of the
author's policy. "As I write," he says, "only for
those who possess sound judgment, I thought
it better to treat this subject as it really is, in
fact, than to amuse the imagination with vis-
ionary models of republics and governments
w^hich have never existed. For the manner in
which men now live is so different from the man-
ner in which they ought to live, that he who de-
viates from the common course of practice, and

238 HISTORY OF

endeavors to act as duty dictates, necessarily
ensures his own destruction."

This, of course, is the turning point of the
whole book. We are not, then, so surprised to
find its inculcations growing more and more
revolting.

" A prudent prince," w^e are told, "can not
and ought not to keep his w^ord."

" It is necessary thoroughly to understand
the art of feigning and dissembling: and men
are generally so simple and so w^eak, that he
who wishes to deceive easily finds dupes."

" I maintain that a prince, and especially a
new prince, cannot with impunity exercise all
the virtues, because his own self-preservation
will often compel him to violate the laws of
charity, religion and humanity".

It seems that all analyses of the "Prince"
are supplemented by references to the "Dis-
courses on Livy," whose maxims are of the
same atrocious character, such as:

" To rise from a middling station to splen-
did fortune, cunning is more availing than
force."

Again: "He makes the fewest mistakes and
has the best fortune who always adapts himself
to the age he lives in and never proceeds as na-
ture dictates," &c. &c.

These strengthen and verify the author's

ITALIAN LITERATURE 239

position in the "Prince," and account for the
strong language which the critics use to-
wards it.

It is difficult for us, by the utmost stretch of
the imagination, to picture to ourselves the
awe — inspiring effect of this little book when
first published. We live in an age when one
person's opinion is deemed as good as another's.
But it was not so when the "Prince" issued
from the printing-press. The book has the tone
of authority which belongs to genius, and in
that age men bowed before it not only because
it was a book, but also as the w^ork of a pre-
eminently powerful, subtle, masterful intellect.
The history of this book forms a separate
chapter in the history of Nations. Its influence
upon the Reformation in England has been
regarded as supreme. Evidence exists that
Cromwell under Henry VIII and Burleigh under
Elizabeth guided the State by the principles laid
down in the "Prince." The monarchs of conti-
nental Europe indignantly denounced it — as it
unveiled the very means and methods which
they had often used. And from another point
of view the crimes of the sixteenth century (cul-
minating in the Massacre of St. Bartholomew)
were traced to this little treatise as their insti-
gator. Our part is to pronounce upon its lit-
erary, rather than its political, significance.

240 HISTORY OF

As an open inculcation of perfidy, cor-
ruption, immorality and irreligion the "Prince"^
as a work of genius stands alone. The great
question before the world has always been,
'What did Macchiavelli mean by it?' Was he in
earnest or in jest? Is the book a mere state-
ment of the despotism and misrule which then
prevailed in Italy, or is it, as Victor Hugo
thought, an exaggeration in order to create re-
volt?

A lower order of talent may occupy itself
with wickedness, but genius has never yet found
it a congenial theme. The explanation of the
great Italian's work can only be found in a
study of the Italian genius. That we are find-
ing out is on a scale of overpowering magni-
ficence. With the Italians everything must have
artistic effect. Macchiavelli is a magnificent
logician. He can abstract the one element of
governing from the many elements that go to
make up life, concentrate the whole attention
of a powerful intellect upon it and pursue it to
definite and remorseless conclusions. Like the
eagle he can face the sun. But men of feebler
intellect cannot keep up with him. To say that
Macchiavelli admired the whole character of
Caesar Borgia because he admired his one a-
bility to take the means to secure his end is
absurd. Such was the universal culture in Italy,.

ITALIAN LITERATURE 241

that Macchiavelli, in writing upon the very
skeleton of a subject, must needs make a work
of Art.

But why should we omit his own solution
of his riddle? For few nobler things have ever
been written than the closing pages of the
"Prince." To deliver his beloved Italy from the
foreign powers was the object of all his striving.
His bitterest critics have to acknowledge that
his patriotism glows throughout his writings,
and he wins all hearts by closing with Petrarch's
fervid lines:

" Lo, valour against rage
Shall take up arms, nor shall the flght be long ;

For that old heritage
Of courage in Italian hearts is stout and strong."

Is it indeed not a mere affectation to pretend
that statesmen have not acted upon false and
faithless principles without any instruction
from Macchiavelli? Given the morality which
then prevailed in Italy, and all that Macchia-
velli's inculcations amount to is, 'While you are
doing this dirty work, do it like an artist; be
thorough, be effective.' After the lapse of nearly
four hundred years, while I am writing this ar-
ticle, the latest issues of two leading magazines
are pointed out to me as containing discussions
of this very subject. And the name of Macchia-
velli is brought forward to show that the ques-
tion whether the State ought to have a con-

242 HISTORY OF

science is not yet settled. Indeed when Glad-
stone made his political d^biit with the as-
sertion that the State must have both a con-
science and a heart, he was regarded as "ex-
quisitely ridiculous" by Lord Melbourne and
Lord Palmerston.

The great principle and turning point of
MacchiavelH's treatise is that he "treats the
subject as it really is." That the English learned
this from the astute Italian may or may not be
true; but they, more than any people on earth,
have treated all subjects as they really are.
That has been the secret of their political suc-
cess, and it is a principle w^hich is well w^orth
pondering. High - flown, visionary sentiment-
ality has wrecked many a social enterprise, and
while each one of us is bound to work out an
individual ideal which is superior to the ideal of
our age, we may not tamper with the rights
and wrongs of men in general except we stand
firmly upon the solid ground of indisputable
reality.

As critics, the English stand first in their
open admiration of Macchiavelli. The incom-
parable Hallam is never more eloquent than
when on this subject. Indeed he rises to the
moral sublime when he says: "Macchiavelli's
crime in the eyes of the world, and it was truly
a crime, was to have cast away the veil of

ITALIAN LITERATURE 243

hypocrisy, the profession of a religious adher-
ence to maxims, which at the same moment
were violated," Macaulay is the apologist, ex-
tenuator and vindicator of the subtle Macchia-
velli, even emiDellishing side issues in order to
produce an effect of perfect harmony. The Eng-
lish translator for the Bell Publishers is digni-
fied, but enthusiastic; calm, but partial to the
point of being untruthful. On the other hand,
the Italians never indulge in any immoderate
expressions of approbation for the author of
the "Prince." Cantii is bitterly depreciative
and openly hostile to him. Ambrosoli is de-
precatory, restrained and timid. Tiraboschi is
fair and impartial, but not laudatory.

But while the "Prince" will always stand
as an unimpeachable witness to the depravity
and atrocity of the Renaissance, its author is
no longer regarded as the inventor of this state
of affairs, or as the sanctioner of political crimes.
He is known to have replied to his accusers,
"If I taught princes how to tyrannise, I also
taught the people how to destroy them." His
own life was devoted to republican principles
and he sought what he believed to be his coun-
try's welfare. Dante believed that Italy could
only be saved by submitting to a foreign yoke.
In spirit and essence Macchiavelli's burning
patriotism reminds us forcibly of Dante's; but

244

HISTORY OF

the clairvoyance of the statesman enabled Mac-
chiavelli to see further than Dante, and on
fame's eternal bead-roll no name stands higher
than his in being identified -with the splendid
hope of a free and a United Italy.

15501635

CHAPTER V.

Writers of the Renaissance.

Part in. — The Afterglow.

The Academy Delia Crusca. This would
seem to be the place to refer to the influence of
the literary societies, known as Academies,
which flourished in every city of Italy. The idea
originated at a convivial gathering held in
Florence in 154.1. Sobriquets suggested by the
banquet were conferred on individuals, and,
later, upon the societies into w^hich they grouped
themselves. They were the "Vinedressers," the
"Etherials," the "Inflamed," the "Lynxes," &c.
By far the most famous of these societies w^as
that of the "Sifters" of Florence, or the Acad-
emy of the Sieve, known throughout Europe
as the Crusca, as its fame, second in the history
of such societies only to that of the great
French Academy, did not permit the word to be
translated. The Crusca was formally organized
in 1582, and among other interesting facts we

246 HISTORY OF

find that a cotnedy written by Lorenzino dei .
Medici, entitled "L'Aridosio," was selected as a
model of the Tuscan tongue. The office of
First-Consul of the Crusca was held by the
nephew^ of the great Michaelangelo, who -was
called Buonarroti Michaelangelo and, in devot-
ing his talents to the enrichment of the lan-
guage, he wrote two comedies, "La Tancia",
and "La Fiera" (The Fair), which were used
as standards in the compilation of the great
Vocabolario. This important work was given
to the world in 1612 and would, alone, im-
mortalize and justify the labors of the Crusca.
But like all such societies, it began very
early to cultivate criticism at the expense of
originality, and when it undertook to place
Ariosto above Tasso, it not only did much to
embitter the unfortunate Tasso, w^ho was then
living, but, inasmuch as Ariosto was dead and
Tasso living, it gave a death -blow^ to the
creative imagination of the nation.

The Censorship of the Inquisition. Another
institution which exercised a pronounced in-
fluence upon the period w^e are now to consider
w^as that of the Holy Office, or the Italian In-
quisition, founded by Pope Paul III, by a bull
dated April 1st, 1543. Of the Academies that of
Modenawas most celebrated for its ecclesias-
tical discussions. Marcantonio Flaminio, Sado-

ITALIAN LITERATURE 247

leto, Sigonio, the famous antiquary, and Ca-
stelvetro were citizens of Modena. Not only
was Castelvetro singled out by the Holy Ofl&ce
for persecution, but the whole Academy of Mo-
dena was scattered and suppressed. It was all
under cover of a literary discussion, but the
rumorthat theSociety had accepted the reform-
ed doctrines was the real cause of the ecclesiasti-
cal prosecution. For at this time it w^as a
well ascertained fact that Luther's and Melanc-
thon's writings were read with avidity in
Italy, and the cultivated class sympathized with
the Reformers. This action of the Church,
therefore, put an end to free inquiry throughout
the length and breadth of the land, and a nega-
tive, passive mental attitude w^as the result.
The strongest person on the side of freedom was
the learned Olympia Morata,the ornament and
idol of Ferrara. In full sympathy w^ith the
celebrated Duchess Rende, these two brave
women strengthened the faith of all who pro-
tested against religious tyranny, until they,
too, were obliged to flee for their lives, - Ren6e
into France, and Olympia into Germany. In
1559 the first list of books prohibited by the
Church was set forth by Pope Paul IV. Sixty -
one printers were put under a general ban and
Dante's treatise, "De Monarchia," was placed
in the Index Expurgatorius. This deadly

248 HISTORY OF

wounding of the literary heart was received in
sullen silence. The nation realized that centuries
must pass before it could recover its elasticity.

There is a great diversity of opinion as to
the period in which Tasso should be placed. The
religious character of his Poem separates him
widely from the mocking cinquecentists. But
as a creative genius the glamor of the Renais-
sance surrounds him, and I have taken it upon
myself to make a Chapter which shall include
him with his rival Guarini and the scientific
geniuses who made these last years of the 16th
century so great and glorious.

Torquato Tasso was born at Sorrento in
1544, inheriting from his father literary taste
and poetical ability. Having received as fine
an education as this wonderful age could give,
his genius attracted him to poetry at the age of
seventeen. No romance of the imagination has
ever equaled the romance of his life, and his
misfortunes constitute a separate chapter in the
history of the human mind.

At the age of twenty-one, in 1565, he came
to the Ducal Court of Ferrara, one of the most
brilliant in Italy, and was warmly received by
Alphonso d'Este, the Duke, and his sisters,
Leonora, and Lucretia, afterwards the Duchess
of Urbino, — for the fame of his "Rinaldo" had
traveled all over the country. Many beautiful

ITALIAN LITERATURE 249

sonnets and madrigals at this time attest his
growing passion for Leonora d'Este, and -when
Leonora San Vitale, Countess of Scandiano,
came to the court, his poems seem to indicate
that he paid court to her and wrote poetry to
her in order to veil his love for the princess-
Thus we find him saying,

" I am not faithless ! No ! — oh, no.

But with too fond belief,

And heart too humble, and too low

False I appear, — with grief :

Pity me, lady! — and because

My stars will have me now

But the mere ghost of what I was.

To my poor shade allow

Seeming another's, by each sign,

Only to be more truly thine."

TOM. II. MAD. CCCLXXVI.

Trans, by e. h. wilde.

And though internal evidence seems to suggest
that this was by the advice of the princess, she
herself, could not endure the test. For many
things go to prove that she returned Tasso's
love.

About this time he published his "Amynta,"
a pastoral drama of exquisite taste, which was
acted before the Court of Ferrara. Its great
success stirred up the greatest jealousy and
envy in his literary contemporaries, especially
in Guarini and Pigna. Their literary warfare

250 HISTOEY OF

makes very enjoyable reading, especially when
•Tasso answers his accusers in such lines as,

" Yes I at my will I freeze or glow,

Loyal ■ - not lost to shame,

A lover and no foe.

Thy light thoughts may disclaim

Alike my Are' and snow, —

But scorned by Love, and Hate and Fame

Thy senseless proud words go."

MAD. COLXXXVI.

Trans, by b. h. wilde.

In 1573 Tasso went wth the Cardinal Luigi
d'Este to France to visit the court of Charles
IX, and it was there that he made the promise
of writing the "Jerusalem Delivered," which
was finished in 1575. In 1576 he went to visit
the Duchess of Urbino, because he had had an
open quarrel and fight with a man named Ma-
dalo, who had stolen his private papers out of a
locked box in thepoet'.a,jroom,havingconipelled
a locksmith to make him a key. And while
Tasso was at Pesaro with the Duchess of Urbi-
no, he was arrested for drawing a knife upon
one of the servants in her presence. Alphonso
ordered his imprisonment in the convent of San
Francesco. But after a few months he escaped
from Ferrara, and, after a period of sad wan-
derings, finally reached his sister Cornelia at
Sorrento. This touching event is beautifully set
forth in the lines of Mrs. Hemans.

ITALIAN LITEKATURE 251

Now it is supposed that in the stolen letters
iand poems Tasso's love for Leonora d'Este was
revealed. Under the prevailing manners and
customs the Duke had a perfect right to kill him ■
for such temerity, but rather than do this Al- I
phonso persuaded him to act the madman, and/
Tasso was so passionately in love with Leono-I
ra, that he was willing to sacrifice his dignity,!
and his very humanity, in the vain hope of beingi
allowed at last to be with her.

A thorough explanation of this strange
story has been given in that able study, "Con-
jectures concerning the Love, Madness and
Imprisonment of Torquato Tasso," by Richard
Henry Wilde, one of the iew Americans who
have made a thorough study of Italian Litera-
ture, and his work is founded on that of P. A.
Serassi, 1721-1791.

Tasso was indeed subject to melancholy;
and his literary enemies, his religious doubts,
his friends' treachery, the loss of his position at
court, Alphonso's requirements and, above all,
his hopeless love did, indeed, almost madden
him. He left Sorrento and came back to Ferra-
ra, but was received so coldly, that in April,
1578, he took a formal departure, after thirteen
years' servitude, and wandered to Padua,
Mantua, Venice, and then to Urbino, under the

252 HISTORY OF

protection of the Duke, who was now separat-
ed from Lucretia d'Este.

From Urbino he went to Turin; lit

longing to return to Ferrara could not be
subdued, and for the third time he appeared in
this fatal place. Being refused audience by the
Duke and Princesses, Tasso broke out in the
greatest rage and abused everybody: whereupon
the Duke gave orders that he should be confined
in the Hospital of Sant'Anna, an asylum for
the indigent sick and insane. This was in March
1579, and for seven years he languished there
in indescribable misei"y.

The letters to crowned heads, the madrigals,
sonnets, and lyrics, prose essays and discourses
which issued from his prison evinced not only a
perfectly sound intellect, but contain bursts of
impassioned eloquence, arguments sustained by
keenest reasoning, and many proofs of con-
summate genius.

In 1581 Leonora d'Este died, the single line
which chronicles the event in the Ducal archives
of Ferrara simply adding that she preferred a
life of celibacy. Tasso's verse has made her
name familiar to the world. He had written,

To Soythla and to Lybia's sands thy name
Shall fly, in triumph borne, upon my lays ;
And arms, and wars, and heroes find their fame
Bivalled by Modesty and Beauty's praise."

ITALIAN LITERATURE 253

As R.H.Wilde says, "this noble confidence in his
own power was not unfounded." Everlasting
renown has been the gift of his love and genius.

Not the slightest reference to Leonora's
death is to be found in any of the letters, poems
or papers of Tasso.

A volume of poetry commemorated the
event, and Tasso's is the only name among
contemporaneous poets which is wanting. But
not many months after this, in October 1581,
his health was much broken down, and he had
apparitions and believed himself to be bewitch-
ed. Modern science has established the fact
that such hallucinations are the result of phy-
sical malady and leave the mind itself entirely
unimpaired.

At length, in 1586 Alphonso consented to
the release of Tasso and gave him up to Vin-
cenzo Gonzaga, the Duke of Mantua, on con-
dition that he would not leave Mantua. Tasso
lived nine years longer, was offered a profes-
sorship in Genoa, and was treated by everyone
not only as sane, but wise. He had been cruelly
deprived of the pecuniary profits of his literary
w^ork by direct robbery on the part of his pub-
lishers. But all Italy had always believed in
his genius, and the time had now arrived when
his friends could procure for him the honors of a
coronation in the capitol of Rome. He had

254 HISTORY OF

already taken refuge in the convent of San Ono-
frio, feeling that his health ^fras failing, and on
the eve of the day appointed for the coronation
his spirit passed beyond the reach of human
judgment and reward.

But if ungrateful Italy delayed her honors
and adverse fortune refused to relent during the
life of Tasso, all was changed after his death.
Since then Italy has pronounced him her most
perfect w^riter, for if Tasso never reaches the
facility and magnificence of Ariosto, the lovely
languor of his verse is, nevertheless, always in
keeping with his sad and pensive themes. No
one has ever received more splendid homage
from foreigners. Mrs. Hemans, Byron and
Mme. de Stael have placed imperishable laurels
on his grave, and no poet has ever paid another
such a magnificent tribute as Goethe paid the
unfortunate Italian in his lyric drama entitled
"Torquato Tasso."

Battista Guarini, as the literary member of
a family which had been distinguished for learn-
ing for 200 years, as Tasso's rival, and as the
greatest of the "Arcadians," deserves the at-
tention of every student of Italian Literature.
No single verdict could pass muster against
that of the world which called for 40 editions
of Guarini's Poem during his life-time, and

ITALIAN LITERATURE 255

translated it into almost every civilized lan-
guage, including Latin, Greek and Hebrew.

For ten years after attaining manhood —
from 1557 to 1567 — Guarini occupied tlie chair
of learning in the University of Ferrara, ^vhich
had been made illustrious by his ancestors, and
these were years of tranquility and content.
But in an evil hour the aspirant for fame al-
lowed himself to break away from his profes-
sorship and accept the post of "Courtier" to
Alphonso II, the petty prince of Ferrara , who,
according to the Italian practice, must needs
have a literary man for his embassies. Poor
Guarini groaned over the long journeys to Ger-
many and Poland, the barbarism of the northern
manners and customs as compared with Italian
refinement, the inadequate remuneration he re-
ceived, and the ill-treatment of his foreign
friends. In short, the extreme sensitiveness of
the poet began to manifest itself, and after 14
years of misery as a Courtier, Guarini gave it
up in despair and resolved to retire to Padua.

But the greatest of all his worries was the
increasing celebrity of his compatriot and fel-
low-courtier, Torquato Tasso, who superseded
him in the esteem of Leonora San Vitale, as
well as in that of the literati. And in these
years of retirement from court, Guarini sum-
moned all his strength to the production of a

256 HISTORY OF

work which should eclips Tasso's "Aminta."^
The result was the "Pastor Fido," by far the
most successful of the many pastoral poems put
forth by the Italians. It was represented at Tu-
rin in 1585 and printed at Venice in 1590.

It did not bring rest and peace, however, to
the haughty, capricious temper of the poet. For
again he was allured to court with the position
of Secretary of State. After two years of life in
this capacity Guarini became so disgusted with
the Duke of Ferrara that he dismissed himself
from the Duke's service, walking off calmly and
deliberately, and thereby evoking the disap-
proval of all Italy, for the Italians despise those
who injure themselves.

Wanderings in Savoy, Venice, Mantua and
Florence followed, and all this time the poet
w^as having great trouble with his many chil-
dren,— quarrels and law^-snits innumerable. The
saddest of his afflictions was the murder of his
favorite daughter, Anna, w^ho was killed by her
jealous husband, Count Ercole Trotti, in 1598.
The last years of Guarini's life were spent in the
fierce literary controversies to which the pub-
lication of the "Pastor Fido" gave rise; so that
in laying down the burden of life at the age of
75, he must have felt that Death was the very
best friend he ever had.

ITALIAN LITERATURE 257

Giordano Bruno, the precursor of the school
of modern Pantheistic philosophers, Avas born
at Nola, near Naples, in 1548. He entered the
Dominican order of monks at the age of fifteen,
but the writings of Cusano, Lulli and Telesio
having fallen into his hands, he soon began to
think for himself and embark upon the career
of intellectual martyr. Doubts in regard to the
doctrines of Transubstantiation and the Imma-
culate Conception compelled him to flee from his
convent. Taking refuge in Geneva, his bold,
restless spirit could not endure the dogmatism
of the strict Calvinists. The University of Paris
became his shelter for a period, but disputes with
bigoted Aristotelians sent him flying across the
channel to more liberal England. Here at last
he found tranquility, and in the enjoyment ol
the friendship of Sir Philip Sidney spent the only
happy years of his life.

But men like Bruno are not born for hap-
piness, — but for that saddest of destinies in
which the intellect "brings to the birth, but
has not strength to bring forth." The love of
controversy, undying aspiration, longings for
light drew Bruno to Germany, and his Protest-
ant friends were delighted when, upon leaving
Wittenberg, he pronounced an impassioned pan-
egyric upon Luther. Journeying from Wit-
tenberg to Prague, from Helmstaedt to Frank-

258 HISTORY OF

fort, the desire to return to Italy and fix his re-
sidence in learned Padua gave him no peace. He
had written two Satires; the "Spaccio della be-
stia trionfante" (Expulsion of the Triumphant
Beast) which some thought a boast of atheism
and others an attack on the Roman Church,
but which turns out to be a general moral satire
in allegorical form; and the "Cabala del cavallo
Pegaseo-coU'aggiunta dell'asino Cillenico," a sa-
tirical eulogy on Ignorance: the "Cena delle Ce-
neri" (Table-Talk on Ash- Wednesday), a spirited
dialogue in defense of the Copernican theory;
and the treatises in which he developed his met-
aphysical philosophy, — "Della Causa, Princi-
pio ed Uno," "Dell'Infinito Universo," and the
Latin treatise "De Monade, Numero et Figura;"
and he must have known that these writings
rendered him neither safe nor welcome in his
native land. But perhaps in a spirit of rash
provocation he traveled South, and reached Yen-
ice. He was immediatly arrested by the Of-
ficers of the Inquisition and taken to Rome,
where he w^as imprisoned for 7 years. He was
tried, degraded, excommunicated, and finally
handed over to the civil power, by which he was
sentenced to death and burned at the stake
in 1600.

Bruno appears as a meteor in speculative
philosophy, — but a meteor which has left its

ITALIAN LITERATURE 259

track. The eminent German philosophers of
modern times, Schelling, Hegel and Fichte,
Brucker and Buhle, have republished Bruno's
works and acknowledged their own indebt-
edness to him. It is now evident that the vague
and inconsistent speculations of the Pantheists
have prepared the way for the most practical
work ever undertaken by metaphysicians. That
we live in a universe and that philosophy is
concerned with the unification of all things —
once the enormous offences and capital crimes of
the subtle, but Heaven-endowed Giordano Bru-
no — has bound the sciences of Ontology, Cos-
mology and Psychology into a three-fold cord
which shall not easily be broken. Bruno's ina-
bility to formulate anything like a system of
philosophy exposed him to the contempt of his
contemporaries, but the lesson of his life reveals
the efficacy of Thought, and proves that "no
Truth realized by man ever dies or can die."

If you have ever stood in the quaint old
Duomo of Pisa, you have, perhaps, been more
moved by the fact that your eyes rested on the
hanging lamp which suggested to Galileo the
measurement of time by med.ns of a pendulum
than by all the great works of Art which cover its
walls. Galileo Galilei, who was born in Pisa in
1564 and died at Arcetri, outside of Florence in
1642, was endowed with such sublime mental

260 HISTORY OF

power, that he towers like a giant above a
w^orld of pigmies. Every child knows of his most
notable invention of the telescope and of his
place in the development of the heliocentric
system. The years of his studious boyhood
and his Mathematical Professorships in Pisa
and Padua are generally passed over hurriedly,
that we may follow the thrilling period of his
life, when, as a true mystagogue to the sanctu-
aries of nature, he defies ecclesiastical rational-
ism and infidelity and stands alone against the
world.

But it was 16 years after the promulgation
of his Copernican views, upon the publication
of a series of Dialogues on the Two Great
Systems, that he was called to Rome and held
a prisoner in the palace of the Inquisition. Now
it happened that the reigning Pope, Urban YIII,
was very ambitious of literary glory, and it
was rumored that Galileo had represented him
in his Dialogues in the person of Simplicio, thus
exposing him to ridicule and contempt. Thus
w^e find that it was not the Church in arms, but
a petty personal envy which exerted itself to
arrest the progress of Science and foil the search
for Truth. That was bad enough; and it is
enough to account for the undying interest in

"The starry Galileo and his woes."
When called upon by the Inquisitors to abjure.

ITALIAN LITERATURE 261

curse and detest Ms theory of the earth's motion,
Galileo complied, beating the earth with his
foot and exclaiming under his breath; "Never-
theless, it moves;" giving us one of the most
striking instances ever placed on record of the
inadequacy of Science to inspire a deliberate
choice of martyrdom, and throwing into high
relief the power of true Religion.

The Inquisitors were not deceived by Gali-
leo's formal recantation. It is by no means an
authenticated fact that he w^as thrown into
the horrid dungeons of the Inquisition or subject-
ed to the torture; but it is certain that he was
never again a free man. The Holy Office kept
its eye on him; after a sojourn in its palace,
Galileo was permitted to live in the garden of
the Trinita dei Monti, near the ambassador of
Tuscany, then to be transferred to the house of
the Archbishop Piccolomini in Siena, and finally
to dwell in his own villa at Arcetri, outside of
Florence, on the condition that he never en-
tered the city.

Galileo's splendid additions to the domain
of human knowledge must always interest us
in every detail of his life and personality. It
may almost be said that he created the sciences
of Astronomy, Dynamics, Statics and Pneuma-
tics; and unlike other great physicists he brought
the mind of a true philosopher to bear upon

262 HISTORY OF

every question he considered. His literary style
is elegant, clear, and simple, so that it is im-
possible not to follow him with interest, w^hether
he w^rites about the motion of projectiles, the
fact that logicians do not necessarily make good
reasoners; the mutability of the earth compati-
ble with its perfection; the aid of the lance to the
rope dancer; the principles of respiration in
swimming; or whether we read his familiar
Letters to his friends. Galileo wins our passion-
ate admiration in the completeness of his
mental life. He loved Literature and was thor-
oughly acquainted with Virgil, Horace, Sen-
eca, Petrarch, Berni and Ariosto. He had time
for his friends, many of whom were eminent
Churchmen, and welcomed needy and aspiring
students to his house, thereby aiding and further-
ing the labors of the great Evangelista Torri-
celli, his most celebrated disciple. Old and blind,
Galileo continued his sublime labors up to the
day of his death, and is ever to be numbered
among those elect few, in the contemplation of
whom we are tempted to exclaim; "The gods
have come down to us in the likeness of men"!

In Weber's masterly modern "History of
Philosophy" we find Lucilio Vanini ranked
among the liberal Peripatetics, - the philosoph-
ers who undermined the authoritative system
of the Church by laying bare the heresies of

ITALIAN LITERATURE 263

Aristotle, whom the Church had declared infalli-
ble. Yanini belongs therefore to the old order of
things and has little or no part in the religious
and scientific movements which were to revolu-
tionize the world.

Born near Naples in 1584 and burnt alive
by the Inquisition at Toulouse on the 9th of Feb-
ruary, 1619, after having had his tongue cut
out, the short passage of Lucilio Vanini upon
earth, nevertheless, left its trace. He is char-
acterized by someone as "a restless and ex-
tremely vain soul, who was burnt by the
Inquisition because of his declaration that he
would state his opinions concerning the im-
mortality of the soul only in case he were old,
rich and a German." Such a characterization
is far from sympathetic, but perhaps no other
could express so succintly the fearless freedom,
the strong intrenchment of individuality in
which Yanini lived.

His first great work, which Hallam briefly
translates "A Yindication of the Being and
Providence of God," was published in Paris in
1615 and seemed to be sufficiently orthodox;
but his only other published work, called "Dia-
logues on Nature" by Cousin,-givento the world
in 1616, completety refuted the first one and
exposed its hapless author to the wrath of the
Sorbonne and the Inquisition. The savage

264 HISTORY OF

sentence of the latter was executed after a harsh
imprisonment and a prolonged trial, as we have
noted above.

Ofcourse no one now^-a-days reads a line of
Vanini. He is simply a striking illustration of
a system perverting itself, his intellectual light
was one that failed; but the protest of his life,
his soul, his entire being, however flippant,
godless and unprincipled it may have seemed in
his own day, has helped the world to swing out
of the orbit of intolerance into the religious li-
berty of modern times.

It is cause for world-wide congratulation
that a monument has recently been erected in
Venice which will perpetuate historic events of
perennial significance. It represents the stern,
austere figure of a monk, and every passer-by
must be affected by its noble simplicity, its quiet
unassuming grandeur. But to the thoughtful it
unrolls History of the utmost value, truth of
the profoundest importance: for Pra Paolo
Sarpi -was the greatest man Venice ever pro-
duced.

He was born in 1552 and was destined to
the Church from infancy. In early boyhood,
even, his genius reminds us of that of Leonardo
da Vinci, being boundless, universal and preter-
natural in its character. Starting out as a friar
of the Servite order of monks, Sarpi' s wonderful

ITALIAN LITERATURE 265

memory, judgment and eloquence at once elevat-
ed him to the career of a public disputant, and
at the age of eighteen he became the orator ot
Mantua. But being recalled to Venice, he gave
himself up to scientific and philosophical studies
and in an incredibly short time made the disco-
very of the valves of the veins, of the circulation
of the blood, w^ith Galileo constructing the tele-
scope and inventing the thermometer. His
contributions to Optics, Pneumatics, Hydro-
statics, Mathematics and Chemistry entitled
him to be called "the ornament of the world",
the "greatest genius of his time," the. "miracle
of the century."

These services to the world were interrupted
by a call of special service to Venice. In the
Constitution of the Republic there were three
Counsellors of Law, whose duties were to
instruct the Doge and Senate upon the legal
bearings of any dispute in which the Republic
was involved. But now all these duties were
handed over to Sarpi, and he became Sole
Counsellor of State. He had always been an
independent thinker and a devout student of the
Bible. In the capacity of statesman he humbled
the power of the Pope, as no one before or since
has ever humbled it. His refusal to let the Pope
control the affairs of Venice was the first step in
the emancipation of Italy. Sarpi was as true a

266 HISTORY OF

Protestant as was Luther, and as a Theologian
paved the way for the party of Old Catholics in
Europe.

Pope Paul V gave orders for the assassina-
tion of Sarpi, but in spite of the attempt and
the proofs of 15 stilletto thrusts, he was res-
cued by his adoring friends, and lived to leave
a vast amount of literature to the world. The
most celebrated of his works is "The His-
tory of the Council of Trent," which by many
eminent scholars is considered the greatest
work of its kind that has ever been produced.
By a perfectly fair mind it must be contrasted
w^ith the History of the same Council written
by the gifted Cardinal Sforza Pallavicino, a
zealous Romanist, but a most lovable man and
a master of Italian eloquence.

Fra Paolo died in peace and happiness at the
age of 71, but the hatred of Rome was so great
that his body was torn from its resting-place
ten times, and each time rescued by his faithful
friends, who finally deposited it on the island of
San Michele. The Venetian Senate issued a
decree for the erection of a public monument to
Sarpi in 1623. But the undying enmity of Rome
did not permit this decree to be carried out
until 1892. Thus after nearly 300 years we
rejoice in the triumph of truth and justice, and
in this bonding of History see both a commem-

ITALIAN LITERATURE 267

oration and a prophecy. The student is di-
rected not only to Hallam and Gibbon for the
achievements of Sarpi, but to a charming mon-
ograph just published by the Rev. Alexander
Robertson.

The life of Tommaso Campanella immedia-
tely brings to mind the lovely lines of Lovelace:

" Stone walls do not a prison make,
Nor iron bars a cage :
Minds innocent and quiet take
That for an hermitage."

Born at Cosenza in 1568 and, like Bruno, a
Domenican friar in early youth, Campanella
was accused of a conspiracy against the Spanish
government of his country, and languished for
27 years in a Neapolitan dungeon. But, de-
barred from human intercourse and cut off from
natural enjoyments, he abandoned himself to a
delight in his own genius, and with his indefati-
gable pen gave the world ample proofs of it.
Had he w^ritten nothing of value, this sublime
faith in his own mind, this noble occupation of
his dark daysw^ould win our ardent admiration.
But his daring speculations, his bold flights of
imagination, his impressive eloquence have
influenced many of the finest minds the world
has ever known. If Campanella failed to for-
mulate any system of philosophy, it was because
of the superabundance of his resources, rather

268 HISTORY OF

than because of any lack. Never was the poetic
genius more closely allied to the scientific than
in this strange man.

In his "Compendium de Rerum Natura pro
Philosophia humana," in which he lays down
the fundamental principle that the perfectly
w^ise and good Being has created certain types
and signs of Himself in nature and natural ob-
jects, we find an idea which has been elaborate-
ly set forth in the modern Science of Esthetics.
In his treatise "De Sensu Rerum" he maintains
that all things feel, and applies this dictum to
the stones, the sea, the sky, the stars, descanting
thereon with an eloquence that is likened to
Shakespeare's. In his "Politics" we find large
views and acute and brilliant generalizations,
which have stimulated and enriched the minds
of his readers to deeper reflections upon History.
In his "City of the Sun" (modeled after the
"Utopia" of Sir Thomas More) we have a
system of Socialism strikingly like that which
is now engrossing public attention.

Thus we find a certain all-embracing spi-
rituality to be the grand characteristijf of
Campanella's philosophy: it rings with an
independence that is simply enchanting to lov-
ers of liberty.

Campanella emerged fromhis prison in 1629,
and turned his steps towards France, where he

ITALIAN LITERATURE 269

"was kindly received by that noble scholar,
Nicolas Peiresc, patronized by Richelieu and
befriended by Gassendi. Campanella w^as also
fortunate in having an enthusiastic disciple to
propagate his views. This w^as Tobias Adami,
w^ho edited the prisoners' works, contributed
prefaces of his own writing and traveled ex-
tensively on behalf of his Master.

The last of the dogmatists in philosophy,
Campanella is to be ranked in the group with
Bruno and Vanini, in sharp distinction from
that of Galileo and Sarpi; that is, with men who
have thrown out hints and suggestions, rather
than with those who have revolutionized the
world.

The Qaims of Tasso.

Tasso's life lends a lustre to the immortal
pages of his great Poem. The dark and tragic
destiny of the writer invests his work with a
sublime pathos. While he sings the praises of
the Crusaders and the glory of "Jerusalem De-
livered" — that is, while he depicts unrivaled
heroism and unfaltering faith, — he tears the veil
from his own heart, and his eloquence as a poet
is irresistible, because he pleads with us as a
man, face to face, for his own ideals, his own
indestructible beliefs, his own profound ex-
periences of grief and sorrow.

The "Jerusalem Delivered" can hardly be said
to have a plot, so distinct and well defined are
the various episodes of which it consists. In
compactness and simplicity it is vastly superior
to the "Orlando Furioso," and if Ariosto is the
perfect artist in completely veiling his ow^n per-
sonality, Tasso more than rivals him in the
directness of his aims and methods. Every epi-
sode of Tasso's is a finished picture. The critic
can ascertain the author's views upon a given
subject. There is an end to be attained by his

ITALIAN LITERATURE 271

"mellifluous numbers," and there is an incom-
parable dignity imparted by this aim.

As the champion of ecclesiasticism in a time
of doubt and danger, Tasso chooses for his
subject the mighty undertaking of the First
Crusade, 1093-99, and points to the sure and
certain victory that awaits the faithful. His
poem is nothing if it is not a deeply religious
poem, a very manual of devotion in its pure and
positive instructions. He truly sings, as he
avows, the praises of the pious Godfrey de
Bouillon, keeping him always before us as the
true hero of his poem; for if Tancred is the por-
trait of himself, and Rinaldo the progenitor of
Alphonso d'Este, none the less are they pitied
for their weaknesses, and Godfrey alone is the
immaculate knight, the deUverer of Jerusalem.

Assembled on the plains of Syria, after six
long years the Christian wariors find them-
selves almost in sight of the sacred city. It is
here that Godfrey is elected leader by direct Di-
vine interposition, and his review of the army
acquaints us with the hosts and their leaders.
They are all there, — Baldwin of Bouillon,
Godfrey's ambitious brother, afterwards Prince
of Edessa; Tancred, descended from William of
Normandy, now Prince of Apulia, the very em-
bodiment of chivalry and romance, glorying in
the strictest code of honor, and ready always

272 HISTORY OF

to die for the sacred cause; Bohemond, Prince of
Tarentum, the proud and haughty lover of
power; Guelf of Suevia; Hugh of Yermandois,
brother of Philip I of France; Robert of Nor-
mandy; Robert II, Count of Flanders; Ray-
mond of Toulouse; Stephen of Blois; the youth-
ful Eustace de Bouillon; Rinaldo, an imaginary
character to glorify the House of Este; Peter the
Hermit, and the bishops, William of Orange and
Adhemar of Puy; and many others of less ce-
lebrity and power.

Chafing and burning to reach the goal of their
desires, the armed host can hardly be held back
long enough to hear the ambassadors from
Egypt, who come to offer peace and truce if the
French will abandon Syria. Godfrey tells them
that they "have been preserved on land and
sea, in storm and sunshine, only in order that a
path might be opened to the venerable walls. —
God has them in His keeping," and then he
adds:

" But if blind judgments, errors, now abound,
Depriving us of aid Above, around,
Who of us will refuse to be entombed
Where God's own body sacred burial found?
Yes, we will die, — to live no longer doomed ;
Not unavenged our mortal throes resound :
No mocking smile has Asia for our fate.
No weeping for the death of the elate."

And then, hardly has the night passed and

"Aurora bound her golden head with flowers

ITALUN LITERATURE 273

gathered in Paradise," when the wise Captain
gives the command to march, and

" At every foot are wings, all hearts are light,
Their going is too swift for mortal ken :
But when the Sun the arid plains can smite
With rays which burn and shine o'er field and fen.
Behold Jerusalem unveiled to sight.
Behold Jerusalem ye long-tried men ;
And from a thousand voices hear, O earth,
The salutation loud and deep break forth.

Thus do audacious navigators hie

A foreign shore to seek and new lands woo.

In doubtful seas and under unknown sky

Find the waves treach'rous and the winds untrue ;

When lo ! at last goes up the joyful cry.

The shore so sought, so longedfor, is in view ;

And in the common joy and eager shout

The troubles of the past are all wiped out.

To the great pleasure which this first dear tryst

Had sweetly breathed into the warriors breasts,

A deep contrition follows, to insist

On timorous and lowly love's behests.

For on the city, chosen place of Christ,

It is not seemly that the eye now rests.

For there He died, there in the tomb He lay ;

There took the form unmarred by death's decay."

Hardly have they reached this point when
the Mahometans issue from the city and give
them battle. Dudone's death here gives rise to
Godfrey's beautiful apostrophe:

Not now the tribute thine of grief or tears.
Dead in the world to be reborn in Heaven ;
Where human power despoiled thee of thy years
Deep guarantees of glory thou hast given,

274 HISTORY OF

For thou didst live in Christian faith and fears,
In such thou'rt gone ; now all for which thou'st

[striven —
— To feed thine eyes on God, O happy soul,
Is crown and guerdon of thy labor's goal.

Live happy still ; 'tis our own gloomy fate
That calls for tears, not thy lamented sleeping,
Since in thy going thou hast taken so great
And strong a force from out our cherished keeping.
If what the world calls Death will not abate
Our earthly longing for thy valor's reaping.
Celestial aid we know thou canst obtain,
For thou art numbered in the holy train.

And as in our behalf we once have known
That thou didst use the weapons of a morlal.
So we ere long shall hope to see thee own
The fatal arms in use within Heaven's portal.
Be near to aid us for our ills t'atone,
Receive the vows we bring to thee, immortal!
First - fruits of victory, to thee we swear
That soon fulfilled shall be our ev'ry prayer. "

Equally devout and beautiful is the descrip-
tion later on of the dead Sweyn, the Danish
Prince. News of the slaughter of his whole army
is brought to Godfrey by a messenger. Betrayed
by the perfidious Greeks on the plains of Philo-
melium and overpowered by the Turks in num-
bers, extinction is inevitable, and this humble
knight alone survives to tell the tale which ends
with the noble lines :

"Yes, there he lay, not prone, but so was turning
As his desires, forever to the stars :
And up to Heaven now his face was yearning,
As one who longed to be within its bars.

ITALIAN LITERATURE 275

And in his closed right hand with zeal e'en burning
He grasped the sword, to strike in earth's dire wars ;
The other on his pious breast abode,
And seemed to ask the mercy of his God."

Supernatural agents, both good and evil,
are employed by the poet in the telling of his
story. The description of St. Michael when he
disperses the infernal hosts in the nocturnal
battle is one of the finest things in all Art :

" He came, making the awful darkness bright

With rustling of those mighty plumes divine :

And suddenly all gilded was the night.

With scintillations from that face benign.

So thro' the clouds the sun's own heavenly light

In radiant colors still displays its sign ;

So breaks a star from out the vaulted choir.

To lose in earth's deep bosom all its fire."

The challenge to single combat of the pagan
Argante, and its acceptance by Tancred; the
arrival of the enchantress Armida, who bewit-
ches the Christian warriors and draws off a
number of them in her train; the whole long
story of Rinaldo and Armida (which is often
published as a separate poem); the account of
the enchanted forest, rendering vain all efforts
to secure material for instruments of w^ar; the
vivid description of the dreadful drought, and
the love episodes between Olindo and Sofronia,
Tancred and Clorinda, and Tancred and Er-
minia constitute the chief incidents of the narra-
tive.

276 HISTORY OF

Tasso's own unhappy fate is reflected in all
that he writes of love. He cannot conceive of
peace and joy in loving; rather is he haunted
constantly by anticipations of torment. There
is no instance in his epic of reciprocated affection;
nothing but punishment is meted out to the
rash devotees of Venus; a dark and sinister
fatality is all that can explain their fatuity.
All of his biographers agree in believing that
the story of Olindo and Sofronia was designed
to represent himself and Leonora. It is certainly
most affecting and well worth consideration.

While the Christian warriors are bestirring
themselves to march upon the city, we are allowed
a glimpse of affairs within the walls. The
Mahometan governor of Jerusalem at this time
Tasso calls Aladin, tho' his real name was Du-
cat, and we are led to believe that he is in league
w^ith all the powers of darkness. Aladin, in-
spired by the magician Ismeno, steals an image
of the Virgin from a Christian Church, carries
it to his mosque and believes to have in it a
palladium, at the same time accusing the Chri-
stians of the theft, and threatening to extermi-
nate their entire body should the individual
thief attempt to conceal himself. A young
Christian girl, Sofronia, comes foward and
willing to sacrifice herself for her people, avows
herself the criminal, and is led to the funeral

ITALIAN LITERATURE 277

pyre. But though she has lived in strictest
seclusion, she has long been loved by Olindo,
who rushes upon the ministers of justice and
insists that Sofronia is mad, for he, himself,
stole the image. The king is enraged with both
and commands that both shall be burned. The
tender upbraidings of the lover and the lofty
self-forgetfulness of the girl, as they stand
bound back to back, constitute one of Tasso's
most characteristic pictures. For though Clo-
rinda, the woman warrior oi invincible power,
arrives upon the scene and compels the king to
liberate the prisoners, a profound melancholy
attaches itself to the story of Olindo and So-
fronia. He has generously desidred to die with
her and she cannot refuse him the privilege of
living with her, but she is impenetrable to softer
feeling, and as they pass out of sight we have
the sad assurance that "she does not love him
as a lover."

To my own mind, however, the story of
Tancred and Clorinda much more strikingly
represents that of the Poet and the Princess.
Clorinda is Tasso's heroine par excellence, mo-
deled as she is after the Marfisa of Ariosto.
Where either of these poets got the idea of these
oriental amazons is a mystery to Historians,
for not only do Mussulman chronicles offer us
nothing whatever of the kind, but even the

278 HISTORY OF

■western world knew little of such a type. Clo-
rinda "despised feminine talents and occupa-
tions, and did not deign to put her proud hand
to the labors of Arachne, the distaff or the spin-
ning-wheel." "Fleeing from luxurious living
and safe seclusion, she kept herself pure in
martial camps and armed her countenance with
pride." Even as a child she had tightened and
slackened the bit of fiery steeds, wielded the
lance and sword, and reveled in the pastime of
the chase. Thus she is the personification of
Freedom, a kind of modern Diana, living the
life she lives from choice, as strong as she is
beautiful, and thoroughly sufficient unto herself.
WhenTancred is introduced to our notice among
the Christian host, Tasso says "nothing cast a
shadow on his great merits except his folly in
loving;" "for," he continues, "this love only
lived on anguish, and gained in strength there-
by." He had met Clorinda at a beautiful foun-
tain in the deep, cool shade, where each of these
ardent warriors had sought refreshment after a
sharp skirmish between the contending armies.
Another meeting records a personal contest
between them, and Tancred yields and declares
his love, but they are suddenly separated by the
intervention of a band of fugitives. Both Clorin-
da and Tancred appear often in the course of the
story, and it is Clorinda (w^ho seems to be loved

ITALIAN LITERATURE 27&

also by the proud Argante, Tancred's bitterest
foe) who suggests the burning of the Christian
towers or battering-rams. It is on returning
from this dreadful feat, when she is accidentally
shut out of the city by the keepers of the gate,
that Tancred discovers her, believes her to be a
man and challenges her to single combat. They
fight on foot and many stanzas are devoted to
the terrific fury of their struggle. When they
stop for a minute to take breath Tancred begs
his foe to tell him his name, "that conquered or
conquering he may know who honors his death
or victory." She replies that the only thing he
can know of her is that she burned the Christian
towers. This makes his wrath break forth a-
fresh, and on and on they go with their warfare.
He sees her strength giving out, but never
dreaming who it is, follows up his advantage,
and when she falls, presses her down beneath
his foot. But as her spirit is about to depart,
"God pours into it new life," and she breaks
forth with :

" 'Friend, thou hast conquered: I my pardon give :

Thine I entreat : naught for my body crave.

My soul, Ah 1 yes ; for it I still must live ;

Give Baptism now, my guilt away to lave'.

Her languid words with mortal weakness strive,

So gentle and so sweet a sound they have

That from his heart they draw forth heavy sighs.

And force the burning tears into his eyes.

280 HISTORY OF

Not far within the bosom of the mountain

A little brook ran murmuring on its way.

He runs and flUs his helmet at the fountain,

And makes for pious offlce no delay.

The trembling of his hand he well might count on

While, still unknown, the visor's tak'n away,

But when he sees and knows, his heart stands still.

Ah sight 1 Ah knowledge of the direst ill!

She is not gone ; since all her mortal strength

Is gathered for this act and this alone :

And, pressing back his grief, he turns at length

That life with water may for death atone.

While he the sound of sacred words pours forth,

With joy transmuted is the dying one ;

So that she seems by her bright, blissful face

To say: 'Heaven opens, and I go in peace'."

Now when we remember that Leonora's
health began to fail a few months after Tasso
was imprisoned, that she actually died in two
years' time, only reaching middle life, that it is
more than probable she had assured Tasso his
disclosures of their mutual love would kill her,
and, finally, that he revised and almost rewrote
his "Jerusalem" in prison, we see many striking
reasons for the identification of the two stories.
And the passionate self- reproaches put into the
mouth of Tancred strengthen this perception;
while, not content with this one means of humi-
liation, the voice of the church is called in aid
and "the venerable Peter, who cares for him as
a good shepherd for a weak lamb," with gravest
w^ords reproves his ravings and says :

ITALIAN LITERATURE 281

"O Tancred, Tancred, thou hast faU'n indeed

Too far from the estate of youthful years,

Who is it that has dulled thine ear to heed?

What cloud so thick has made thee blind with tears?

A messenger from God comes in thy need ;

Dost thou not see? This is by Him decreed

To chasten and to call thee back in wrath,

For thou hast wandered from the holy path.

To acts more worthy and to offlce holy

Of Christian cavalier He would reclaim.

Which thou didst leave to be (Ah, wondrous folly !)

The lover of a rebel to His name.

Adversity befits thy fate and slowly

Descends its flagellation on thy fame,

And of thy safety makes thyself the scourge,

— A minister who well his claims may urge."'

Nor is it only in dramatic situations that
the autobiographical character of the poem pre-
sents itself. In the lightest and most delicate
touches it is suggested. The word Forsennato,
so musical and lovely in mere sound, so fre-
quently and forcibly is used, that Rinaldo, Tan-
cred, Armida and Argante, successively and si-
multaneously may be described by this epithet.
Again, no one who had not known prolonged
mental suffering could write so beautifully of
Sleep. Our author calls it "the soul's leisure,
the forgetfulness of evils, fondly it soothes our
cares and senses;" breaking out still further
w^ith:

" 'Twas night, when deep and blest repoSe is givea
The waves, the winds, and silent is the earth.
The weary beasts, all creatures under Heaven,
All dwellers that the liquid lakes bring forth.

282 HISTORY OF

Those which in dens and caves concealed have striven.

And gorgeous birds, forgetful in their mirth,

Under the silence which the gloom imparts

Breathe out their woes and calm their saddened hearts."

Ofcourse it goes without saying that the
melancholy which pervades the whole poem is
Torquato's own; — tender, thoughtful, self-in-
dulgent, and anon, desperate. Tancred does
indeed appear in History as the embodiment of
Chivalry, but no one but Tasso has ever told
just in what that chivalry consisted, for he
found its portrait, says Foscolo, in his own heart.
Nor are the censures of the Inquisition forgotten
in the reading of "Jerusalem." There are pas-
sages of impurity, which, coming from one "who
made a profession of chastity," as the Italians
say, can only be ascribed to that morbidness of
nature which wrecked their author's life.

I would not convey the impression that
Tasso's genius was bounded by his own ex-
perience. Nothing could be further from the
truth. He excels in descriptions of battles, not
excepting the frightful carnage of the one in
which Jerusalem was taken, and the character
of the harsh and cruel Soliman, Sultan of Nicea
(with which his own could have had nothing in
common) is one of the most carefully drawn in
the whole poem. In purely objective writing he
is equal to the greatest poets. Descriptions of
nature in all her aspects, especially in the storms.

ITALIAN LITERATURE 283

of the Apennines; the journey in search of
Rinaldo, in which charming allusions are made
to all the celebrated cities bordering on the Me-
diterranean, — that sea whose shores have
made the history of the world; the homage paid
the House of Este and the glories of the Renais-
sance; the delight in classical learning, the set-
ting forth of the Crusade as a glorious event
in History, all go to prove that he was an artist
who lost all thought of self in devotion to
his Art.

All this cannot obscure the fact that it is his
own sublime mind which gives its character to
his every line. Tasso's genius fitted him to
w^rite the one heroic poem in the language; and
to be named with Dante and Milton in pursuing
studies which alleviate the sum of human mis-
ery. Their glory is that they burn with moral
indignation, and they cast their crov\ms only at
the feet of Jesus Christ.

^-^^-^M^^*

Guarini's Dramatic Pastoral.

It is said that Tasso, on hearing of Guarini's
success, flew into a rage and exclaimed, "If he
had not seen my "Aminta," he had not ex-
celled it."

The "Pastor Fido," therefore, comes down
to us with a two -fold claim, — as a very clever
little Drama in itself, and as a work to be named
with one of Tasso's, the verdict of all Italy
having pronounced it the superior.

It is well to rescue it from oblivion for sev-
eral reasons. We cannot really appreciate the
best works of any Literature until we have
compared them with the second-best. Again,
the sentiments of a second -class Play reveal the
manners and customs of the Age better than
those of a superior style, neither audience nor
playwright professing here to walk on stilts.
And, finally, Guarini's influence in English Lite-
rature is too marked to be passed over in
silence. Marlowe in the "Passionate Shepherd,"
Ben Jonson in "The Sad Shepherd," Fletcher in
his "Faithful Shepherdess" and Sir Philip Sid-

ITALIAN LITERATURE 285

ney's celebrated "Arcadia" all point to the
prestige of the Italian.

The Pastor Fido -was written for the fes-
tivities following the marriage of Charles Em-
manuel of Savoy and Caterina of Spain in 1584,
and may be pronounced the ne plus ultra of
an erotic poem. Dealing as it does with Greek
myths, times, scenery, character and faith, it is,
yet, not in the least Greek, but intensely and
openly Italian.

Scene I consists of a dialogue between Sil-
vio, son of the priest Montano, and Linco, an
old and faithful retainer of the family; Linco
upbraiding his young master for his indifference
to the lovely Amarillis.

Silvio is a huntsman, and his passion for
the chase is well expressed in the lines so ably
translated by Sir Richard Fanshaw, when he is
made to say :

" Go you that lodged the monster, as y'are wont,
Among the neighboring sheepcoats raise the hunt.

Bouse eyes and hearts with your shrill voice and horn

If ever in Arcadia there was born

A shepherd who did follow Cynthia's court,

As a true lover of her rural sport.

And do not only with your early horn
Anticipate, but wake the drowsy morn."

— lines which have been boldly incorporated
into English verse.

286 HISTORY OF

But in Scene II we find from a talk between
the young men, Ergasto and Mirtillo, that Mir-
tillo loves Amarillis, notwithstanding the fact
that she has been betrothed to Silvio, in virtue
of an oracle w^hich had declared that the woes
of Arcadia could only be ended by the union of
two persons of divine race. These woes had
been brought about in the first place by a faith-
less shepherdess, and they can only be atoned
for by a faithful shepherd. A very flippant
young nymph, in the person of Corisca, tells us
in Scene III other love for Mirtillo and how she
detests that state of affairs which permits him
to call himself another's. While a new train of
thought is awakened (Scene IV) by the appear-
ance of the priest, Montano, and Titiro, the
father of Amarillis, the respective parents be-
wailing the strange conduct of their recalcitrant
children; for Silvio has openly inveighed against
love, and no one can discover whether Amarillis
loves or not. Her father says when a young
virgin does receive love's dart,

"Then if by fear, or else by maiden shame
She be withheld from showing of her flame,
(Poor soul!) Concealment like a worm i' th' bud
Lies in her damask cheek sucking the blood.

— the translation by Sir Richard Fanshaw
indirectly vouching for Guarini's influence over
no less a personage than Shakspeare. The

ITALIAN LITERATURE 287

lamentation of Titiro over Amarillis is relieved
by Montano's relation of a strange dream, of
the restoration of his son who was drowned
when an infant, many years ago. Titiro cau-
tiously exclaims :

" Indeed, though, dreams are often

Of hopes by us long cherished

No presage of the future.

But ghosts of what has perished.

And images of day

Deprived of all delight

By shadows of the night."

But Montano replies :

"Not always with the senses
The mind in sleep is lulled.
Bather is it then more awake
When left by care undulled,
When fleeting forms of sense
By sleep are banished hence." (1)

Act II hurries us through scenes which show
usthatErgastohas confided Mirtillo's loves and
woes to the sprightly Corisca; that a certain
maiden named Dorinda is very desperately ena-
mored of Silvio, and that Corisca is prospering
in her investigations concerning Amarillis.

With everything thus at cross purposes we
are taken completely by surprise when, after a
spirited encounter between Mirtillo and Ama-
rillis, — the lover having unfairly intruded into

(1) My own translation, imitating as closely as pos-
sible the Italian metre and rhyme.

288 HISTORY OF

the maidens' games, caught his sweet -heart
when bHndfalded, and been harshly reproved
for the same— we learn in a soliloquy from Ama-
rillis (Act III. s. IV) that she is just as much
in love with Mirtillo as he is with her. But she
is pledged to Silvio and resolves to make a
sacrifice of her love; — Guarini here proving
himself a worthy expositor of the Beautiful, for
sacrifice in life corresponds to the dramatic
element of contrast, in Art. Amarillis is capable
of the sacrifice because she is capable of the love.
In her ideal picture of what life might be, she
sees the simple shepherdess

" Peed with fresh grass

The flocks to her committed,

And with her lovely eyes the shepherd swaiij,

Not one allotted her

By men or by the stars,

But as Love shall ordain."

Corisca has been in hiding and now comes
out and tempts Amarillis to give up her honesty,
for Silvio is in love with Lisetta, apd she makes
Amarillis promise to come upon the two, then
accuse Silvio of unfaithfulness ai^d so free herself
from the vow. But this is a Rouble plot, since
all the while Corisca is planning to have Mir-
tillo for herself, and she resolves to sepd her
lover, Coridone, to the trysting place, a cave,
then get the priest of Cynthia to find Amarillis

ITALIAN LITERATURE 289

there with him, accuse her and condemn her to
death.

We follow, then, with deep interest the
unfolding of this plot; we see Corisca (now^
recognized as the evil genius of the Play) at-
tempting to break down the fortitude of the
mild Mirtillo; we find, finally, after various
episodes of minor importance, that the priest of
Cynthia has found Mirtillo and Amarillis in the
cave; and we are brought to the crisis when
Amarillis in the temple with the priest, Nicandro,
pleads for her life. Her protests of innocence are
noble and striking, even going so far as,

" Both men and gods have sinned 'gainst me.
If true it is that from above
Our every fate's derived,
What else but destiny could will
To punish for another's ill?"

But the wrong was in going to the cave,
and Nicandro rightly answers :

" What sayst thou, nymph? Check, check such speech,

And rein the mantling, mighty wrath

Transporting thee beyond the bounds

A mind devout can go ;

Do not accuse the heavenly spheres.

Since we alone are arbiters

And builders of our woe."

The first scene of Act V introduces us to Ca-
rino, Mirtillo's reputed father, who is a poet,
and as it is in this character that Guarini re-

290 HISTORY OF

presents himself and sets forth his own senti-
ments, we are touched when he says :

" My friend, if on the day

I passed from Elis into Argos,

I had had such ease to sing,

As I had cause to weep,

In so sublime a style I might have sung

The honor and the arms of my Signor,

That of MsBonian trump he'd have

No cause to envy Achilles ; my land.

Mother of swans unfortunate, might be

Crowned with a second wreath.

But now the art of poetry

(O age debased!) is made too vile."

But now (s. II) a messenger comes to tell
Titiro all about the trial of Amarillis in the
temple, and how Mirtillo cried out that he
would be the victim. Hastening hither, the
terrified Titiro finds Mirtillo being conducted to
the altar to be sacrificed. But just as Montano
is about to kill him, Carino, the stranger -poet,
comes up and asks the meaning of this human
sacrifice. He reveals himself as Mirtillo's re-
puted father, and his tender entreaties cause
Mirtillo to break his vow of silence. But this
renders it impossible to perform the sacrifice
that evening.

Carino takes advantage of the delay, and
hastens to tell Montano how Mirtillo had been
found as an infant, caught in a thicket, and so
rescued from the flood of twenty years ago; and

ITALIAN LITERATURE 291

ofcourse Montano cannot fail to recognize him
as his own long -lost son.

Since then Mirtillo is of divine lineage, and
in love with Amarillis, the old blind diviner, Ti-
renio, declares that the oracle ending Acardia's
woes is now fulfilled.

Silvio marries the love -sick Dorinda and
the overflowing happiness of Amarillis and
Mirtillo grants a full, free pardon to Corisca;
while the chorus bows itself off the stage with:

" Every joy is not a gain,

Every evil not a pain,

But joy its own true form here wears,

Wtiich virtue after suffering bears."

With a masterly plot, with exquisite lan-
guage, and with adages and inculcations of
morality, we yet find the tone of this drama
low and enervating. It does not profess to be
anything more than a love - drama, but it deals
w^ith a very poor kind of love, a sensual, animal-
like form of this great passion. Everyone feels
that such love is soon exhausted, and the mind
finds nothing to carry it on to higher contempla-
tions. In an age of universal coarseness, we
are prepared for vulgar words and thoughts
(such as we find everywhere in Shakespeare),
but Guarini sins against innocence itself in veil-
ing obscenity under pleasing and attractive
forms of expression. We see, then, why such a

292 HISTORY OF

work must be relegated to obscurity : beautiful
poetry, a skilful plot, moral sentiments will not
save it. If it has a mission in Literature, that
mission is to reveal a self-indulgent, luxury-lov-
ing age, brilliant, but hollow; fair, but false.
Indirectly, then, this must lead to an investiga-
tion of the criteria of true progress, and as an
aid of this kind it is given space here.

END OF FIRST VOLUME.

A HISTORY

OF

ITALIAN LITERATURE

BY

FLORENCE TRAIL

'my JOURNAL IN FOREIGN LANDS." "STUDIES IN CRITICISM."
" UNDER THE SECOND RENAISSANCE."

VOLUME II.

"Of men the solace, and of gods the everlasting joy."

POLIZIANO.

*»^rt^^J»

VINCENZO CIOCIA

STAMFEBIA ITAtlANA

85 Centre Street, New York.
1904.

CONTENTS OF VOL. H.

Epic Poet —
Mock-heroic
Poet

Lyric Poets |

!

Dramatic
Poet

I

Theolqgian —

jurist —

Sonneteers \

Bard —

Critic —

Poets I

Philosopher —

W^torians \

Satirist —

Political f

Economists \

THE EMPIRICS.

Giambattista Marini 1569-162S.

Alessandro Tassoni 1565-1635.

Gabriello Chiabrera 1562-1637.
FuMo Testi 1611-1646.

G. Battista Andreini 1578-1652.

Salvatore Bosa 1615-1673.
Boberto Bellarmino 1542-1611.
Gian Vincenzo Gravina 1654-1718.
Alessandro Guidi 1650-1712.
G. B. Felice Zappi 1642-1719.
Vincenzo Filicaja 1642-1707.

FageSS

THE CLASSICISTS.
Gian Maria Crescimbeni 1663-1728.
Niccolb Fortiguerra 1674-1736.
Carlo Innocenzo Frugoni 1692-1768.
Alfonso Varano 1705-1788.
Giambattista Vico 1668-1744.
Ludovico Antonio Muratori 1672-17S0.
Girolamo Tiraboschi 1731-1794.
Luigi Lanzi 1731-1809.
Giuseppe Parini 1729-1799.
Cesare Beocaria 1735-1793.
Gaetano Filangeri 1752-1788.

IV

CONTEXTS OF VOL. II.

Dramatists

I

Essayist —
Translator —

Apostolo Zeno 1668-1750.
Scipione Maffei 1675-176S.
Fietro Metastasio 1698-1782.
Carlo Goldoni 1707-1793.
Carlo Gozzi 1720-1801.
Vittorio Alfleri 1749-1803.
Saverlo Bettinelli 1718-1808.
Melohiorre Cesarotti 1730-1808.
The First Dantisti.
The Improvvisatori.

Page 76

ANALYSIS

OF

Most celebrated Writings of this Period.

I.

PARINI'S SATIBE.

II.

Page 84

METASTASIO. PRINCE OF LIBRETTISTS.

Page 89
III.
THE NATIONAL COMEDY.

Page 103
IV.
ALFIERI'S GALLERY OF GRIEF.

Page 109

THE REVOLUTIONISTS.

{Vincenzo Monti 1754-1828.
Ippolito Pindemonte 1753-1828.
UgoFoscolo 1778-1827.

CONTBKTB OP VOL. II.

Dramatist — Oiovanni Findemonte 1751-1812.
„ , . f Carlo Botta 1766-1837.

mstormns | Retro Giordani 1774-1848.

Page 125

ANALYSIS

OF

Most celebrated Writings of this Period.

The Modern Greek.

Page 136

THE K0MANTICI8TS.

Alessandro Manzoni 1784-1873.
Giacomo Leopard! 1798-1837.
Giambattista Niccolini 1782-1861.
Silvio Pellico 1788-1854.
Tommaso Gross! 1791-1853.
Giuseppe Giusti 1783-1854.

Page 157

ANALYSIS

OF

Most celebrated Writings of this Period.
I.

Manzoni's Masterpiece.

The

Patriot Poets,

Dramatists

and

Novelists.

II.

The Threefold Leopard!.

THE PATRIOTS.

Page 169

Page 179

Tlie Heroes

as

Writers

Giuseppe Mazzini 1805-1872.

Giuseppe Garibaldi 1807-1882.

Camillo Benso d! Cavour 1810-1861.

Daniele Manin 1804-1857.

Franc. Domenico Guerrazzi 1804-1873.

Cesare Balbo 1789-1853.

Giovanni Kufflni 1807-1881.

Page 196

TI

CONTENTS OF VOL. II.

Critic —
Poets

Traveler and

Children's

Writer

Mono-

graphiat

Dramatist •

Novelists

Naturalist
Pedagogue
Hthnologist

THE MODERNS.

Cesare Gantu 1606-1895.

Caterina Franceschi Ferrucci ISOS-UKL.

Gaterina Bon Brenzoni 1813-1856.

Oiovanni Frati 1814-1884.

Giosufi Garducci 1836 —

Edmondo De Amicis 1846 —

Pasquale Villari 1827 —

Paolo Ferrari 1788-1865.
Giulio Garcano 1812-1884.
Ippolito Nievo 1836-1861.
Giovanni Verga 1840 —
Antonio Fogazzaro 1842 —
Michele Lessona 1823-1894.
Aristide Gabelli 1830-1891.
Carlo Cattaneo 1801-1869.

ANALYSIS

OF

Important Writings of this Period.

Gantu as a Gritic.

Page:

Critic —

Comedio- (

grctfo \

Children's f

Writers \

The Last f

Dantisti |

Psychologist —

QUE CONTEMPOKARIES.
— Francesco De Sanctis 1818-1888L
I Giuseppe Giacosa 1847 —
Gontessa Lara 1858-1888.

Marcliesa Colombi 1859 ■
Pietro Fraticelli 1803-1866.
G. A. Scartazzini 1837-1891.
Gesare Lombroso 1836 —

CONTENTS OF VOL. II.

Poets:

Novelists

Musical
Critic

Philosophers

Giovanni Pascoli 1855 —
Gabriele D'Anaunzio 1863
Vittoria Aganoor —
Ada Negri 1870 —
Emanuele Sella 1879 —
Anton Giulio Barrili 1836 -
Matilde Serao 1856 —

Neera —
Federico De Koberto 1861 -
E. A. Buttj 1888 —
Grazia Deledda —

Eugenic Checchi —

Luigi Eerri 1825 —
Giacomo Barzellotti 1843 —

EPILOGUE.

1625-1700.

CHAPTER YI.

The Empirics,

" The melancholy soul of Tasso having de-
parted in peace", saysCantfi, "the scene was left
to the great charlatan" : -- for so he designates
Giambattista Marini (1569-1625), a writer
powerful enough to inaugurate a new school of
poetry.

With Marini Italian Literature enters upon
its third period of imitation and artificiality. It
began by imitating the Provengals; then came
the splendid triumvirate of Dante, Petrarch and
Boccaccio, follow^ed by the hundred years de-
voted to the Greeks and Latins. But no sooner
w^as the Italian restored than the whole nation
went mad after Petrarch; and Ariosto and Tas-
so only completed the unfinished cycle of chival-
ry begun by Pulci and Boiardo in imitation of
the French.

Now Marini, whose name is never mentioned
by the critics without execration, comes forward
to fuse the Greek mythology, the effeminacy of
the Cruscans and the pedantry he acquired at

10 HISTORY OF

the Hotel Rambouillet into a species of poetry
totally unlike anything that had ever been seen
before and at the same time the most artificial
thing imaginable.

For all this, I venture to pronounce Marini
very interesting. He could scarcely be blamed
for repairing to France, for the story runs thus:
Born in Naples in 1569 and destined to the Law,
Marini early chose the career of poet and worked
his way by making verses for the pleasure of
the great up to Rome. There having gained the
patronage of Cardinal Aldobrandini, he accom-
panied him to Turin. Exchanging lively, but
scurillous, sonnets with a man named Murtola,
Marini went so far that Murtola waylaid him
and fired a pistol at him. The shot killed a
courtier of the Duke of Savoy who was walking
w^ith Marini. Murtola was, of course, arrested
and imprisoned, but Marini obtained a pardon
for him. The ungrateful Murtola, however,
afterwards discovered some lines by Marini
which reflected upon the Duke, and took good
care that they should come under the Duke's
notice. It seems very natural, then, that Ma-
rini should step across the border, - from Turin
to Paris.

He arrived at the right hour. The Hotel
Rambouillet was presided over by an Italian
woman, Caterina de Yivonnes, and the Queen,

ITALIAN LITERATURE 11

Marie de Medici, surrounded by a Florentine
Court. Marini became the idol of the day, for
the conventional language and the pedantic
ingenuity after which the French were toiling
were his birthright. We may laugh at their ab-
surdity or condemn their frivolity, but we cannot
help enjoying the social fun they must have had.

When Marini returned to Turin and publish-
ed his lengthyepic,the"Adone",his countrymen
could not contain their delight. He was pro-
nounced the greatest poet that ever lived, and
probably no w^riter ever received more homage
in his life-time. Turin and Rome caressed and
f€ted him, and he ended his days in Naples under
the most favorable circumstances.

Of course the very title of Marini's poem,
the loves of Venus and Adonis, explains the
world's utter indifference to it. It -was indeed
"born but for one brief day," It presents no
human interest, no patriotic fire, no religious
inspiration, But the strength that turns things
in a deplorable direction is still strength, and
Marini is the soul of the 17th century. His
conceits, antitheses, paradoxes became the mo-
del of all good writing. He did not touch the
spirit of literature, but he metamorphosed its
form. He is a master of words and was pro-
videntially permitted to do a great work in

12 HISTORY OF

polishing the instrument which Asras to serve

such a noble purpose in the following century.

This is his description of a bird, which, in

spite of its artificiality, is exceedingly pretty:

"Who would believe that such a spark of life
Could grasp and wield a power so all-abounding,
Between the veins, within the bones be rife
With sweetness, a mere atom this of sounding?
Or that it's not a breeze with air at strife,
A winged voice, a melody rebounding,
A living breath in pinions bright and strong,
A feather harmonized, a soaring song? "

The opening stanza of the 7th Canto of the

"Adone"' has this lovely tribute :

"Music and Poetry, twin sisters, come

To bring relief to an afflicted race.

To calm the storms of passion they assume.

And of dark tempers drive away all trace ;

The world the Beautiful in them sees loom.

And banishes soul-sickness from its face.

And barb'rous lands have not a heart so wrong.

If not the tiger's, that's not soothed by song."

An apostrophe to a pair of beautiful eyes, if
strained and affected, at least brings us nearer
to the dawn of modern lyric poetry :

" Eyes fond and loving ; eyes so soft and bright.
Eyes of my restless thoughts both ports and poles.
Eyes sweet, serene ; eyes making all things light.
Eyes mirrors, suns of my desires and goals ;
Windows of dawn and exits of the day,
Into my darkest night ye send your ray!
Flame of this heart, sun of my eyes ye seem.
Life of my life, soul of my soul, I claim ;
Know that a single ray your beauty throws
Can marbles break and diamond's dust disclose."

ITALIAN LITERATURE 13

The great masterpieces of Italian Art which
awake our deepest veneration were then making
their first impressions upon susceptible souls;
and we are delighted to find in Marini's lines
this beautiful description of the Pieta of Michael
Angelo in St. Peter's :

" She is not made of stone
Who her dead Son, as cold as ice, is holding.
And in her arms and tenderest pity folding.

Thou art of rock alone
Who weepest not for pity of her moan.

Yes, more than stone thou art.
Since water from the stone its way can make.
And at His dying rooks, themselves, did break."

The name of Alessandro Tassoni (1565-
1635) stands out conspicuously in this period
as that of a bold innovator and poet of no
mean order. In early life he was fortunate
in obtaining the patronage of Cardinal Colon-
na, and feeling within him the stirrings of ori-
ginal talent, Tassoni made his debiit in Lite-
rature in a little volume entitled "Considera-
tions on the Poetry of Petrarch." And though
he could not put a stop to the eternal poetizing
of the Italians, he did achieve the signal triumph
of giving a death-blow to the sonnet. Ofcourse
we shall encounter a few sonnets all the way on
through the ages, but the Petrarchian sonnet
after this ceases to be cultivated.

While this attack upon the national idol
gave rise to a vehement controversy, Tassoni

14 HISTORY OF

proceeded calmly to publish a second book of
"Various Thoughts," in which he undertook to
dethrone Aristotk. We have seen that in the
Revival of Learning the scholars of Europe only
got as far as the recognition of Plato as an au-
thority of at least equal value with Aristotle.
Tassoni's labors were not directed against Ari-
stotle as the antagonist of Plato, but against
the slavish spirit which then prevailed in Phi-
losophy.

Of course his countrymen rose in arms
against Tassoni, and imprisonments and liti-
gations were the consequences of his zeal. But
while they could not divine the scope of his
work, that w^ork was sufficiently aggressive to
merit their protest. It was nothing less than
the introduction of a new method of literary
criticism. The rapidity w^ith which Tassoni's
suggestions were elaborated and developed by
those who came after him has thrown his work
into oblivion, but in the eyes of those who re-
spect origins this only testifies to its supreme
importance.

But Tassoni's fame as an Italian ofrourse
rests upon a poetical work, and this time it is
upon a style of which he boasted himself the
inventor. This was the mock-heroic poem en-
titled "La Secchia Rapita," or, "The Stolen
Bucket." The story is founded upon one of the

ITALIAN LITERATURE 15

frivolous wars between the republics of Bologna
and Modena, and turns upon the fact that En-
zo, son of the Emperor Frederick II of Sicily,
fought for Modena and was taken prisoner all
because of the theft of a bucket in Bologna by
the Modenese. This is an anachronism, for the
imprisonment of Enzo happened in 1249, at the
battle of Fossalto, and the theft of the bucket
in 1325 at the rout of Zappolino. The tradition
relates that some of the Modenese, following
the conquered who fled, dispersed, entered Bo-
logna with them, took from a public well a
wooden bucket, and bore it as a trophy to Mo-
dena, where it was suspended in the Cathedral
as a perpetual witness of their triumph. With
this as a frame-work Tassoni proceeds to ri-
dicule many of his contemporaries underfeigned
names, and the curious reader may gather from
this poem many of the smaller manners and
customs of the age. The work is interesting to
us as enshrining a pathetic incident in the life of
one of the earliest Italian poets; and as consti-
tuting the model of Boileau's "Lntrin" and
Pope's "Rape of the Lock." But all of these are
only interesting as reflecting the taste and spirit
of the times; in themselves they serve only as
ebb marks of the literary tide. There is much
coarse jesting, much tameness and insipidity in
the "Secchia Rapita," and there is a plethora of

16 HISTORY OF

Greek Mythology, but there are lines of rich,
luxurious, Italian beauty, as in Canto X, st. 8
we read:

" The rays sent forth by the bright rising sun were

[trembling
Upon the waves of an empurpled, golden sea,
And in a garb of sapphire laughing heaven, dissembling.
Made of the waves a mirror for her own beautie ;
From Afric' shores and from the East fierce winds

[assembling,
Found in the waters rest that suited their degree ;
With sighs as gentle as the lightest breath is.
Zephyr alone curled up the skirt of Tethys."

Tassoni, like Marini, received in later life the
homage of his contemporaries, in spite of the
animosity he had aroused. During at the court
of Duke Francis I of Modena, loaded with pen-
sions and honors, he was soon forgotten by all
Italy; but as a critic he had conferred a boon
upon the national literature which cannot be
too highly estimated.

The life of Gabriello Cbiabrera (1552-1637) is
one of the most uneventful in the history of Ita-
lian writers, while his work is among that
which is most highly prized. Born at Savona
and early left an orphan, he received an excel-
lent education and the patronage of Cardinal
Conaro, but was several times involved in petty
quarrels, according to the fashion of the day,
and obliged to remain in banishment for months

ITALIAN LITERATURE 17

at a time. Finally, at the age of fifty, Chiabre-
ra married and entered upon the repose so ne-
cessary to a scholar and a poet. Genoa and
Florence were his favorite cities, and he says as
a poet he "emulated his felloA?v citizen, Colum-
bus, wishing to discover a new world or
drown."

This new world for Chiabrera was the Pin-
daric School of Lyric poetry, of which he was the
founder, and in which he displayed the rich re-
sources of his native tongue in a way that cap-
tivated his countrymen. Both Ferdinand I and
Cosmo 11 of Florence bestowed honors and
stipends upon the successful poet, while Charles
Emanuele, Duke of Savoy, Vincenzo Gonzaga,
Duke of Mantua, Pope Urban VIII, and the Se-
nate of Genoa strove to outvie one another in
sending him the richest gifts. Chiabrera is not
an historical fossil, but is valued as a true poet
at the present day. Hallam in his incomparable
"Literature of Europe" gives a masterly ana-
lysis of Chiabrera's poetry. Wordsworth has
translated the beautiful Epitaphs for which this
poet w^as so famous, and my ow^n translation
of one of the best of his Pindaric Odes will, I
trust, complete the impression of his genius. It
must be remembered that the Greek poets in
celebrating the games or athletic sports of the
people always subordinated their praise to that

18 HISTORY OF

of Literature and Art, and hence the closing
lines of the following ode must be given their
due significance.

For Gntio Venanzio da Cagli.

"Winner in the foot ball games

Celebeated in Flobence in the summer of 1619.

"I by my many years have feet but ill-prepared

Across the Alps to make my way :
Do thou, Euterpe, move, on Appenines upreared

Find sweet Urbino with the day ;

And then do thou tell how
A shoot of Cagli, eager how for fame.
Upon a theatre devoid of blame

Has garlanded his brow :
And on the Arno made repentant those
Who dared with him in contest hard to close.

Some came from Venice, proud abode.

Of golden liberty ;
And others turned their backs and strode

From Milan's ample way.
The very same desire inflamed
The noble youth of Osmo and Ancona,
And thou didst send some, too, O dear Verona,

For Marte and Permesso named.
And with an aspect pleasing to behold
My Florence gathered all into her fold.
A well-knit race, and nervous is its arm,
And well-nigh wing'd its feet.
And if the north wind blows with ice to harm.

But to despise, it thinks it meet :

When from the great deep roars

The Lion of Nemea in hot days,
It goes o'er open hills, nor light'ning's blaze

In forest dells abhors ;
Tet Ointio's victory is at once perceived
And with the illustrious leaf his head is wreathed.
Ah ! it was much to see his well burnt skin.

ITALIAN LITERATURE 19

And now emaciated form
Bear o'er the field the footstep quick to win,

Indomitable as the storm !

And in the heat of day
The laws enact as to the flight of those great balls,
While now reverberates the air whereon there falls

The monster on its way ;
As when perchance Jove flings a bolt of thunder,
While sinners groan and clouds are rent asunder.

Whoever holds the charms of Cyprus dear

The wicked dice will throw ;
But he who has delight in warlike fare

Fears neither want nor woe :
He with harsh leather cuff
Now clothes the arm and overflows with sweat,
And eyes of eager crowds meet no rebuff

Fixed on their champion yet.
On, on he goes, in reinforcement bold ;
And fever's threat cannot relax his hold.
Ah, Cintip, glory's pathway, which you tread.

Has steps which many miss ;
But pains of valor, be it still believed.

Are not without their bliss ;

If thou thy soul's turmoil
Desirest now to rest and cool thy veins,
Seek no terrestial fount to soothe thy pains,

O child of Alpine soil ;
Since to restore from labor that is true,
I pour celestial streams for such as you.
Ah, what do I now promise? In the very word

My cheek must change its hues.
This trusting to the judgment of the common herd

Is risky for my muse.

But be suspicion spent.
Upon the lyre I'll follow my own style ;
I cannot write a line that will defile.

Where Cosmo has content ;
Be silent envy, let unworthy lips be bound.
The King upon the Arno true delights has found."

20 HISTORY OF

In bringing forward the name of Fulvio Te-
st! (1611-1646), I have several motives. His
Odes, w^ritten avowedly in the spirit and after
the manner of the great Odes of Horace, are spi-
rited and striking. We who have lived to see
what the House of Savoy has accomplished
must acknow^ledge the divination in these lines

To Charles Emmanuel 1st, Duke of Savoy.

1580.1630.

"O Charles, why does that generous heart of thine,

In which afflicted Italy confides.

Shrink from its task? Why thus its valor hides?

Thy dallyings make the woes in which we pine.

Unfurl the flag ; draw brave men to thy side,

And let the world thy victories behold.

In thy behalf Heaven fights, for thee grown bold,

Fortune becomes the slave of thy just pride.

In slothful ease now sits the fair Sea-Queen,

Painting her face and curling her long hair,

And tho' to his own land the war draws near,

The Frank has never more luxurious been.

If in the perils of uncertain Mars

Thou hast no company, thy sword's alone.

Care not, my lord, the glory will atone,

No other then can choose or share thy stars.

Great things thou darest, no one now denies.

Magnanimous thy heart, thy hand must prove.

But Fate does not exalt the timid dove,

A fearful man was never known to rise.

Thou reachest glory by a steep ascent.

The road of honor is beset with snares.

None ever conquered without toils and cares,

For peril is on victory attent.

Who, if not thou, will break these wretched chains

Beneath whose crushing weight Hesperia bends?

ITALIAN LITERATURE 21

'Tis on thy sword her wished-ior peace depends,
And in thine arms her liberty remains.
Charles, if thy valor kill this Hydra now,
Which with its many heads the world defies,
If thou canst hush this Gerion's boastful cries,
Alcides we will name thee with one vow.
Do not disdain the prayers and songs we raise.
Thy graoiousness we humbly now invoke.
When we are freed from servitude's vile yoke
Marbles shall tell thy might and bronzes praise."

Italy, groaning at this time under Spanish
oppression, needed brave spirits; and Testi,
addressing his odes to the Signor Count Ronchi
"On his corrupt state of ease", to the Signor
Cavalier Vaini, "On the superiority of virtue to
nobility"; and to the Signor Count Montecuc-
coli "In blame of aristocratic pride", subjected
himself to great risk. Suddenly, in the midst of
an honorable career, he found himself arrested
and imprisoned. At the end of eight months his
death was announced to the world, no expla-
nation being given either of its cause or of its
manner. We find it profitable, therefore, to
remark not only upon his strong, noble, polished
poems, but upon his fate as a striking evidence
of the temper of the times. We see that suspicion
and distrust were not confined to the Church,
but entering every department of life, vitiated
and enervated all classes of society.

It was in 1638-9 that Milton visited Italy,
and in Milan he saw the representation of a

22 HISTORY OP

drama entitled "Adam", written by Giovanni
Battista Andreini. Ffom every point of view
we must admit this to be a remarkable work.
If the degradation of verse was to be deplored,
the lack of elevated w^riters mourned, much
more serious w^as the condition into w^hich the
stage had fallen. It had indeed become so cor-
rupt, that impiety and scurrility were its avow-
ed means of pleasing. The subject is one which
is, evidently, too extensive for our present pur-
poses. Suffice it to say, that the Church took
up the subject, and certain fraternities, especially
among the Jesuits, organized themselves into
theatrical companies.

G. Battista Andreini was himself an actor,
as well as a playwright, giving his countrymen
as many as 18 dramas. The "Adamo" has been
exquisitely translated into English by Cowper,
and no one who cares anything about English
Literature will fail to read it. The whole frame-
work, conception and execution of "Paradise
Lost" will here be found in embryo, and we
even come across lines which the English poet
must have borrowed, as in describing Adam,
Andreini says :

"For contemplation of his Maker formed",

and Milton :

"For valour he, and contemplation formed."

ITALIAN LITERATURE 23

And, again, Andreini makes Lucifer say :

" Let us remain in hell,

Since there is more content

To live in liberty, though all condemned.

Than, as his vassals, blest."

■while Milton makes his Satan say :

" Better to reign in hell
Than serve in Heaven."

The passion of the Italians for representa-
tions of the supernatural may be traced from
the 12th century. A rude representation of the
Judgment Day was given in Florence before the
time of Dante and suggested features of his In-
ferno; while we shall find a drama similar to the
"Adamo" entitled "Abel" among the master-
pieces of Alfieri. 1)

Salvatore Rosa, born near Naples in 1615,
Painter, Poet, Musician and Actor, is to be
numbered among those versatile and highly
gifted Italians who differentiate their land from
all others as the land of genius. Chronologists
cannot make the numerous incidents, labors
and pleasures of Salvator's life fit into the 58

1) The Italians were extravagant admirers of Milton,
and "Paradise Lost" was translated by Paolo EoUi, by
Papi, by Girolamo Martinengo and by Luca Andrea
Corner. Alfleri openly borrows ideas and expressions of
Milton and expresses his indebtedness to the English
poet.

24 HISTORY OF

years he lived; so rich, varied and inexhaustible
-was his personality. From a youth of rebellion
against entering the monastic life, poverty,
Tvanderings among banditti, Salvatore Rosa
worked his way up to fortune and success. His
fame as a Painter is world-wide; but it is some-
what startling to open modem music books
and there find both the words and music of his
songs now^ in vogue. As a satirist, too, the mo-
dern world finds him more interesting than his
contemporaries found him, for everyone has
seen his wild, weird, original landscapes, his
intense historical scenes and his celebrated por-
traits in the Galleries of Europe, and the specific
utterances of such a soul are sought after and
studied. Rosa's best known Satires are those
entitled Music, Poetry, Painting, War, (in
w^hich he applauds the fisherman autocrat, Ma-
saniello), Babylon, (in which he inveighs against
Rome) and Envy. They are all in terza rima,
and the power of the ideas far outweighs the
smoothness of the language. To give an idea of
his style is no easy matter. I choose a passage
from the Satire on Poetry, to remind myself and
readers that there were many more aspirants
to fame in those days than we can now^ hold in
our minds and that the degeneracy of the age
v^ras deplored by its men of genius.

ITALIAN LITERATUHE 25

On the servile imitation of the writers.

" I turn, O poets, now to you ; and to your shame,
Though used to Verres, thefts are found in every rhyme
That the corrector of Erenninus 1) could not name.
O sad disgrace, O shameful feature of our time !
The juices pressed from others' labors, toils and sweat
To use to-day for balm and ink you count no crime. ■
Phoebus and Clio give these ants both cave and seat,
Yet think to hide the grain they've strlv'n so hard to

[store.
That's from the ancient harvests stol'n for their retreat.
And without using sieve or lantern on their lore
One may distinguish with but little observation
The ancient from the modern meal we so deplore.
A piece of patch- work now they style a true creation.
So rare's the book not made of thefts from every writer,
Under the pretext, so they say, of imitation.
"Where Aristophanes, where Horace, do you loiter?
Great souls, conpassionate us in our doleful state.
And leave your sepulchres to come where it is lighter.
Oh! with what reason do I now invoke you great!
Since if to-day thou woulds't the thefts but try to name.
My Aristophanes, "soon hoarse" would be thy fate.
And if thou, Horace, read these authors of some fame.
Oh! how thou wouldst cry out ; "Now truly rags are seen
Sewed on to cloths illustrious without sense of shame. ' ' 2)
Since heeding not the times, they so themselves demean.
They use the Greek and Latin purple in their folly
To make such garments as befit buffoons, I ween.
These imitators in an age that's so unruly.
Whom once thou didst baptize a servile flock.
Thou wouldst now stigmatize as birds of rapine wholly.

1) Cicero, who wrote the famous Orations against the
thefts of Verres, and a Treatise of Ehetoric directed
against Erenninus.

2) Against the express precept of Horace, Ars. Poet,
V. 15.

26 HISTORY OF

At things already said now everyone must moclc ;
Not now to imitate, but with the grave intent
Of copying for the selfish gain of their own luck.
And that these people to disguise themselves have

[meant
Is evident, for in their-rags they are aware
In mounting Pindus they'd rouse general discontent ;
To live immortal they cbnfess their guilty share,
Without the f«ar of punishment, in wit well-versed.
Since thefts are granted if to live's the rascal's prayer.
But this by no means ends the parts they have

[rehearsed ;
They do not prize the living, never think to cite them ;
The claims the mighty dead have made they think

[reversed.
And if they're quoted, poets now stand up to fight them.
And yet they lack in worthy pens and heads revered
The help true study of the ancients would requite them.
O my poor world ! thy bravi should indeed be feared.
For these new rogues rob bosom friends, and oft 'tis

[found
From their own sires they steal with consciences well

[seared.
In print alone can those thus flourish and abound
Who make deceit and petty pilfering their trade.
And for their own pass works of others round and round.
Thence some swell out with pride, their fault parade.
And say if they should quit the using others' pens.
The place of Esop's chatterer would be their grade."

Salvatore Rosa considered himself a re-
former, and one of his biographers gravely as-
sures us that he did not indulge in vice to any
serious extent. He deplored and openly berated
Michael Angelo's love of the nude figure, and
hence we see that the condemnations which
human beings hurl often have little moral value,
as the immoral man, repentant and zealous,

ITALIAN LITERATURE 27

undervalues and maligns the pure and irre-
proachable man, because of a difference in ar-
tistic temperament.

Despite the degeneracy of this age, as true
and faithful students, looking beneath the sur-
face of it , we shall find many illustrious names.
We shall pause at that of Roberto Bellarmino
(1542-1641), who with the mighty bulwark of
his "Controversies of the Faith" restored the
papal religion. We shall notice the great wo-
men, - Leonora Gonzaga, who married the
Emperor Ferdinand III. and founded an Italian
Accademy in Vienna; Margherita Sarrochi, who
wrote an epic poem and crossed swords with
Marini; Lovisa Bergalli, who compiled a va-
luable anthology; and Elena Piscopia, orator,
musician and author. The critical work of Gian
Vincenzo Gravina will arrest our attention, and
we shall love him for his adoption of the little
raggamuffin, Metastasio. We discover that if
these were not the palmy days of Leo X, men
of letters and artists still enjoyed an enviable
prestige at the Roman Court of the erratic
Queen, Cristina of Sweden. There were gathered
Enrico Noris, Archbishop of Rossano, Albano
(afterwards Pope Clement XI), Dati, author of
the "Lives of the Ancient Painters"; Menzini,
author of Lyrics and Satires; Guidi, Filicaja
and Crescimbeni.

28 HISTORY OF

Alessandro Guidi (1650-1712) is famous for
his "Ode to Fortune," but I prefer his sonnet on
Michael Angelo's Painting of the Last Judg-
ment, an exquisite translation of -which may be
found in the Appendix of Roscoe's "Leo X."
Faustina Maratti Zappi and her husband G. B.
Felice Zappi also wrote beautiful sonnets, that
of the latter on Michael Angelo's Moses rivaling
Guidi's in unapproachable sublimity.

But the redeeming name of this whole cen-
tury is that of Vincenzo Filicaja. His odes on
the Deliverance of Vienna from the Turks, and
his patriotic and domestic Sonnets are true
contributions to the literature of thew^orld.The
more they are studied, the better are they liked.

Filicaja's position as a w^riter is ideal. A
man of extensive culture, of exquisite taste, of
keen sensibility, of conscious power in reserve,
is roused by the stirring events of his age to in-
terpret those events to his contemporaries, to
aw^aken finer sentiments, to lift to higher moods.
Like David of old, Filicaja w^as forced to say,
"The earth is weak and all the inhabiters there-
of: I bear up the pillars of it." Burning with
a lofty poetic inspiration, the modern Italian
does not, indeed, seem unlike a prophet Divinely
commissioned. The progress of the Turks in
1683 made Europe tremble. The deliverance
w^rought by Sobieski w^as inestimable.

ITALIAN LITERATURE 29

Thus the first desideratum -a noble subject -
was granted Filicaja, and there is not a dissen-
tient voice in declaring that he gave it a noble
treatment. The six Odes on the Siege of Vienna
are a glorious tribute to the Christian Faith.
Reverberating with the majestic music of which
this language alone is capable, the words al-
w^ays harmonize with the exalted theme, and
hence Filicaja's Odes are considered by many
the finest that have ever been written.

From the Ode to John Sobieski, King of Po-
land, I give my own translation of the first six
stanzas :

" Thou art not great because thou art a king,
But knowing thee, men recognize their need

And hail thee king indeed.
For there are many paths that lead to thrones ;
Of bright nativities, of sires the meed.

The power a brave sword owns ;
Thee to the throne only thy virtues bring.
The world that sighs for heroes stills its moans.

No empty Fortune's vow
"Was given when upon thee fell the lot,

No palliating blot.
And no blind fear ; affection then as now,

The seal of honest brow.
Thy valor's might a secret compact framed
With Fate ; and thou wast King before proclaimed.

But what? Let sceptres now be cast aside :
Not in the pomp of royal majesty

Do I thus speak of thee ;
Not to admire in thee what others share.
He who can count the sand grains in the sea

May with his verse prepare

30 HISTORY OF

To say how thy great deeds awaken pride,
Or name the marvels which all hearts declare
E' en winged Time will spare.
Where is the land concealed so from the sun

That there no fame has run
Of thy great vic'tries? Breaks day anywhere,
Or has the night a lair.
Or does the Dog-Star bark, Bo6tes shake
His steeds' black backs, no note of thee to take?

The false Sarmatian knows thy name, and well
The bold usurper of fair Greece ; those halls

With trophies on their walls.
And they whose brows with others' spoils are starred,.
(The theme of song that widely still enthralls.)

And Janus' doors were barred
If only thou hadst lived and fought to quell
The strifes that Europe's happiness have marred.

Who then shall check me as I charge

Castalian goddesses thy palms to keep?

Weak is the hand that writes, but deep

And high the proofs that strong affections forge.

And still they onward urge.
For He, whom winds obey where, how and when
He lists, sends you the sword and me the pen.
The pangs of death seized on me when I saw
The horrid hosts those clear, pure fountains stain.

The flood of Istro drain
With savage lips ; and dire was my alarm
When frigid and Egyptian fruits proved vain,

Alas ! I saw the form
Of regal Austria bending low with awe
Before the foes that bade her then disarm.

And place in this extreme
Her foot in galling chains. The sacred bust

Of Empire so august

Then fell, and head and trunk asunder seem,

And ashes once supreme
Fly everywhere ; while conflagrations' smoke

Tells town and plain the horror,s they evoke.

ITALIAN LITERATUKE 31

From its foundation then I seemed to see

Vienna totter ; and in dismal plight

The tearful mothers' flight
Towards the temple, and the aged men
Berate the years that keep them from the fight.
While they are forced to look o'er field and fen
And see destruction, like a vulture free.
Make of their land a noxious, wretched den.

But if such direful woes.
And burnings, blood and groans and grief

Must come to our relief
Through thee, as victor over all thy foes.

Through all these dreadful throes
Whereby the very soil of Austria heaves,
(Permit me, Heaven, to say) : Tt no more grieves ;
For dazzled by the lustre of thy sword.
The Ottoman now sees his moon grow pale,

His symbol's greatness fail.
Thou goest breaking trenches, lighting down.
And as a lion, when before him quail

The flocks no shepherds own.
Thou mak'st such slaughter, that as sov' reign lord
The ground beneath thy tread will tremble soon.

The beaten people flee.
Thou bear'st away the spoils of valor's worth

And the besieged come forth.
For this I cry "Thou'rt come" ; and still my plea,
"Hast fought, hast set us free" !
Yes, yes, thou conquerest by Divine decree.
Thou for thy God, and God Himself through thee."

Filicaja's Sonnets are scarcely less cele-
brated than his Odes. He was saved from the
bathos of the age by the reality of his feeling.
This is beautifully set forth in the well known
Sannet on "The Divine Providence" translated
by Leigh Hunt. But, of course, the "Italia Mia"
is the best known of Filicaja's sonnets from

32 HISTORY OF

Byroti's bold incorporation of it in "Childe
Harold." There (CantoIV.St.XLIIandXLIII)
it is drawn out in two spencerian stanzas, and
yet it must be confessed Byron has made the
translation very literal. Another patriotic son-
net is translated beautifully by Isaac Disraeli in
his "Curiosities of Literature." These lines are
of thrilling interest, because we hear in their
strong tones the first accents of the drama of
modern times and the glorious work that is to
be accomplished by Alfieri, Leopardi and Man-
zoni.

1700-1800.

CHAPTER VII.
The Classicists.

The settecento opens with the establishment
of the "Arcadians" in Rome by Gian Maria Cre-
scimbeni. For the first time noAsr we come upon
genuine criticism of native authors. Without
entering into the details of this, we note with
deepest interest that Crescimbeni's judgments
still hold their ground, and that his 38 years
of w^ork for the Arcadians forced them to banish
the notion that literary studies are a mere pas-
time.

Nicold Fortigaerra, indeed, combated this
w^ith his "Ricciardetto", which was written for
the express purpose of proving to certain jovial
friends that the w^riting of these epic poems was
a mere bagatella. And it is said to be an au-
thentic fact that Fortiguerra verified his bra-
vado by turning out a canto a day.

Though a retrogressive effusion, and all out
of keeping with the times, this "Ricciardetto"
contains some of the mpst fascinating philoso-

34 HISTORY OF

phizing ever done in verse. The author's de-
scription of his Muse; the Praise of Obscurity;
the Philosophy of Life are given in the Manual
of Ambrosoli. Ferraii's mixture of brutality and
devotion is the specimen submitted bySismondi.

"Poetry", says Cantu, "personified itself at
this time in the Genoese Innocenzo Frugoni
( 1692 - 1768 ), a priest against his will, poet of
the court at Parma and secretary of the Acad-
emy of Fine Arts there". Instead of refining by
labor the genius with w^hich he w^as unquestion-
ably endowed, Frugoni abandoned himself to
his fatal facility. There was nothing about
w^hich he did not undertake to poetize. Ready
for such occasions as weddings, ordinations,
curfews, banquets, Frugoni deluged Italy with
his verses and w^as immensely popular in his
lifetime. The "Frugonian poetry" passed as a
proverb into the language to signify "a rever-
beration of words, a scarcity of images and a
nullity of thoughts."

The critics with one consent express a hatred
of Frugoni that is remarkable. But among his
writings I find a beautiful Sonnet on the "Ex-
terminating Angel", 1) and one equally grand
entitled "Hannibal on the "Alps";^^-elev€¥- piece:.^
of satire-on-^'TheXiOver of all the "Women", and

1) Who destroyed in one night the army of Senna-
cherib.

ITALIAN LITERATURE 35

a specimen of blank verse curiously named, "The

Shade of Pope."

It seems that wishing to compose something

on the birth of the first child of Lord Holderness

in Venice, Frugoni pretends in this poem that

he is not equal to the high argument, but is

obliged to invoke the shade of Pope to help him

out. The wily rascal makes Pope praise bim.

" Does he 1) not see how
Happily thou on thy Tuscan plectrum
Bearest the Latin modes, and the new style
Of its loved speech dost tinge with splendor?"

And just when we think ourselves launched on

a eulogy of England, the poet exclaims :

" But for thy native crib, oh, how the gods

Have giv'n thee compensation ! This, where thou'rt born

The Adriatic owns as august queen.

Abode of spotless liberty, and skilled
In happy counsels ; in vicissitudes
Of agitated Kingdoms styled unique ;
That, dear to all, herself a pattern gives
Of faith unchangeable, and calmly weaves
The wondrous course of her own destinies."

The fantasy of Frugoni is, however, best

displayed on homely subjects, as where, for

instance, he describes the little furnace where

chocolate is milled and the lamp and the large

coffee-pot, and then concludes :

" Still the vase one day so smoking

Gurgling, poking
Out with waves immense, bombastic :

1) Lord Holderness.

36 HISTORY OF

And there weaves the solitary

And contrary
Girl who deemed Minerva drastic.
Now the tripod lies all frozen,

With the chosen
Toothy, stirry stick that seizes.
And the little fan is lazy.

Once the hazy
Waker up of friendly breezes."

So far in the century no new note had been
sounded. Suddenly and unexpectedly there ap-
peared a nobleman by the name of Alfonso Va-
rano (1705-1788) who has the glory of starting
the new strain. Descended from the ancient
dukes of Camerino, and chamberlain of the Em-
peror of Germany, versed in ceremonial and
punctilious in points of honor, w^e should not
expect to attribute the robustness of the modern
world to such a source. Tragedies entitled "St.
Agnes", "Demetrius", "John of Giscala" came
from his pen, but his fame rests upon a poem
called "The Visions", in which openly imitating
the "Divine Comedy", he show^ed the world
that it was possible to break away from My-
thology, and be a Christian in conceptions, with
true manliness of style.

Varano was at once denominated the mo-
dern Dante and has since been styled the pre-
cursor of Vincenzo Monti. But all this adula-
tion has faded away. It is enough and more
than enough to have roused the nation's ardor

ITALIAN LITERATURE 37

in the right direction. Having read Visions I,
V, VII and X, The Precipice, the Pestilence of
Messina, the Storm at Sea, and the Divine Pro-
vidence, I am not sufficiently impressed by them
to undertake their translation; but the beauty
of a lyric given by Cantfi, dilating upon the su-
pernatural glories surrounding the dying Chri-
stian (to which so many have borne testimony)
must be shared:

" He leaned his head in languor yet unknown,

A beatific peace o'erepread his face,

And in his lifted eyes new beauty shone.

Then as a flick'ring torch that's run its race,

And grathers all its courage at its end

He cried, "I follow, do Thou grant me grace,

Guide me, Thou God of bounty" ! Length'ning bend

The shadows o'er him now, but with the day

He breathes his soul out as the mists ascend.

And songs with harps and choirs with cymbal's lay,

And angels' wings and zithern's minstrelsy,

Eainbows and rays and forms with garlands gay

The loosened soul accompany on high.

And from the golden cloud in which it soars,

The soul to its frail body says good-bye."

We come nov^r to Giatnbattista Vico (1668-
174.4), a man of genius, who, far outstripping
the spirit of his age as a Philosopher and a
Pyschologist, more than repays us for our zeal
and perseverance in this study. Naples had pro-
duced Aquinas, Sannazzaro, Bruno, Vanini, Sal-
vatore Rosa and Gravina, and a famous School
of Jurisprudence had long flourished there, so

.38 HISTORY OF

that Vice in being bom in Naples drew in deep
draughts of learning with his earliest broths.
Though the son of a small bookseller, he availed
himself of the scholastic training at hand and
on attaining maturity became a private tutor
for 9 years. It was not until he was 29 that he
gained the professorship of Rhetoric in the Uni-
versity of Naples. Though always conscious of
his genius, Vico had one of those unsymmetrical
natures which entail a life of inconsistencies,
and while young he had married an illiterate
girl and proceeded to have a large family. Three
great juridical works came from his pen before
he was 53, and on the strength of these he hoped
to obtain the professorship of Jurisprudence in
the University. Though his rejection caused him
intense disappointment, it really paved the w^ay
for the illustrious work w^hich was to immor-
talize his name and realize the end of his being.
This was the "Scienza Nuova", first published
in 1725, almost re- written in the edition of 1730
and corrected and published for the third time
in 1744. During these intervals Charles III. of
Naples show^ed his appreciation of Vico by ap-
pointing him historiographer with a good sa-
lary; and the great Philosopher himself suffered
with a cruel malady, in which from time to time
both mind and memory failed. The third edi-

ITALIAN LITERATURE 39

tion of his immortal work had scarcely appear-
ed when its author expired, January 20th, 1744.

Fascinating studies of the great work which
w^as indeed a New^ Science have been made by
Michelet, by Pasquale Yillari, by Cesare Cantfl,
and by Professor Flint of Edinburgh, and for
our present purposes we may depend upon their
testimony,

" The New Science" w^as nothing less than a
stupendous Philosophy of History; stupendous,
because by History Vico meant Humanity, and
by Philosophy, the Divine ideal of human des-
tiny. Vico's generalizations are so brilliant
and so magnificent, that they have been called
"divinations". Not only does he anticipate Wolf
in his Homeric hypothesis, and Niebuhr in his
views of Early Roman History; not simply did
he work out a criterion of truth w^hich is wholly
original, namely, that to knov^r a truth is to
have made it (a principle reaching perfection in
Mathematics); not solely did he forestall the
modern Germans in their broadest conceptions
of Philology, and, possibly, sow the seeds of the
Evolution theory; Yico shows that God is in
living contact with man in all ages and all
countries; that the clue to the history of the
Gentile nations is to be found in genius; that
truth is congenerous to mind; that genius is the
jmmediate organ of the Divine ideas and the

40 HISTORY OF

recognition and practical realization of the
thoughts and will of God, -- enunciations which
can only be received by one who has thought
long and laboriously, but by such to be received
rapturously.

Vico's Philosophy was in strict accord with
revealed religion; he remained throughout his
long life a loyal son of the church, and it was
his proud boast that the ''New Science" origi-
nated in Roman Catholic Italy, and not in Pro-
testant England, Germany or Holland.

A new era was dawning upon the world,
but the political situation in Italy remained
unimproved; for the War of the Spanish Success-
ion simply transferred Italian provinces from
Spain to Austria. But the House of Savoy attain-
ed royal dignity in 1713, and under Leopold
of Austria Tuscany revived after 200 years of
servile repose. The University of Bologna was
exempt from apathy, and Charles III. of Spain
and IV. of Naples gave the first impulse to the
revival of letters in the Southern Kingdom.

If Europe ow^es its classical culture to the
Italians of the 15th century, it can be equally
maintained that it is indebted to the Italians of
the 18th century for its historical lore. The
foot-notes of Gibbon, Robertson, Buckle, Mil-
man, Hallam, Guizot and Michelet have made
the name of Muratori familiar to us from our

ITALIAN LITERATURE 41

youth, and we are all eagerness in at last disco-
vering some details of the life of such a scholar.
For it is very evident that without Muratori
w^e should have had no modern History.

The illustrious Ludovico Antonio Muratori,
w^ho w^as acquainted w^ith the whole of the vast
region of human know^ledge, w^as born in Vi-
gnola, a part of the Modenese, in 1672. Entering
the clerical state w^hen very young, he made it
the rule of his life never to sleep more than seven
hours. Justus Lipsius on the Roman Antiquities
inspired Muratori w^ith the love of ancient eru-
dition; and in 1694 he entered upon his career
as archivist and Doctor of the Ambrosian Li-
brary at Milan, being called there by the Borro-
mei. For the next 52 years his pen was never
idle. His Latin Annecdotes, four vols, in quarto,,
appeared in 1697 and 98, and Greek Annecdotes-
in 1709. The learning thus lavished upon the
public woke immediate response, and congra-
tulatory letters poured in from Cardinal Noris,.
Magliabechi, Salvini, Montfaucon and Baillet,
It is a proof of Muratori's wonderful fairmind-
edness, humility and conscientiousness that,
having discovered errors in these first publica-
tions, he did not hesitate to avow^ them, and
openly resolved never to publish anything with-
out first showing it to some learned friend. The
subject of Inscriptions next occupied the insa-

42 HISTORY OF

tiable student, and was followed by the "Novus
Thesaurus Inscriptionum", while a still more
signal benefit was conferred after a study of
Liturgies by the publication of the "Rites of the
Ambrosian Church", w^hich w^ere not only fa-
mous for their antiquity, but for their diversity
from those of Rome.

It is to the credit of the petty prince, Rinal-
do, Duke ot Modena, that he w^as not content
to have Muratori remain at Milan, but called
him back to his native city as its librarian, as
w^ell as provost of the parish of Santa Maria
della Pomposa. The works that followed were
' 'A Defence of St. Augustine" ; a ' 'Life of Maggi' ' ;
the "Life of Castelvetro" (for which he w^as, of
course, bitterly attacked); and monographs of
Sigonio, Tasso and Tassoni. The "Della Per-
fetta Poesia Italiana" produced a profound im-
pression. Here the great scholar proves himself
an excellent critic, opposing the idolatry of Pe-
trarch, and for the first time showing that the
true order of his works is, first the Canzoni,
second the Sonnets and last the Triumphs. Mu-
ratori's "Reflections on Good Taste" and "Plan
for a Literary Republic" show him to be an in-
dependent thinker in every department, and his
fearlessness in designating those whom he w^ould
have at the head of his Republic is amazing.
But all this time Muratori was living as

ITAIJAN LITERATURE 43

well as writing. In the celebrated litigation
between the House of Este and the Pope over
Comachio and Ferrara, Muratori took the Im-
perial side, and by the consummate ability of
his legal arguments won the case and w^as
pronounced the first lawyer in Europe. A deeply
interesting correspondence with Leibnitz and
the publication of the "Estensi and Italian Anti-
quities" were not deemed out of keeping with a
"Treatise on the Pestilence" (which was trans-
lated into English) and with the devoted labors
of a parish priest. The great savant loved to
instruct children in the rudiments of religion; he
often preached to monks; he spent his own
means in rebuilding and restoring S. M. della
Pomposa; he was a visitor of the prisoners and
never spared himself in personal ministrations
to the poor; it is estimated that he gave 100,000
francs to the Charitable Associations of Mode-
na; for his "Treatise on Christian Charity" the
Emperor Charles VI. gave him a collar of gold,
and it is almost humorous to find that this
collar w^as often pawned to aid the needy.

But we have not yet entered upon an enu-
meration of the immortal works which make
Muratori the glory of Italy in the 18th Century
and for all time. Vol. I of "Rerum Italicarum
Scriptores" was published in 1723, and in the
writing of the 27 volumes that followed Mura-

44 HISTORY OP

tori was at the head of a society that collected
the data. It was finished in 1738 aftei* painfiil
altercations; and after its publication many
scholars found fault with its statements, one of
them even threatening to kill Muratori. "Anti-
quitates Italicae Medii Aevis" was another
stupendous contribution; and this is the work
on jW^hich our English historians have so se-
curely built. Then came the venerated "Annali
d'ltalia", in the vernacular, and published in
Milan in 18 volumes, w^hich, though w^ritten
■with, incomparable alacrity, will ever remain a
monument of national pride. Beginning, with
Augustus, these annals are brought down to
1749. In consulting them I have been much
impressed by Muratori's opinion of Philip 11. of
Spain. For when we consider that Muratori
w^as a Protestant in all but the name, and that
he defends Philip's treatment of Don Carlos by
a philosophical inquiry concerning the nature
of parental affection, it must be admitted that
we have either a sound argument for Philip, or
a baffling exhibition of subtlety.

Muratori's work on "The Rules for Devo-
tion", openly condemning the superstitious
pratices of the Roman church, excited fierce per-
secution, and his enemies brought out a rejoin-
der entitled, " Anti-Muratorius". Cardinal
Querini was at first hostile to Muratori for his

ITALIAN LITERATURE 45

open aversion to the Jesuits, but later became
convinced of Muratori's fair-mindedness and
with Benedict XIV. stood forth to protect and
defend him. The Pope's magnanimity was in-
deed taxed to the utmost, for truly are we con-
vinced that "the righteous is bold as a lion"
when we find that Muratori did not hesitate to
condemn the temporal jurisdiction of the Popes.
Benedict, however, was equal to the occasion
and nothing could induce him to dim the lustre
of this bright and shining light. He expressed
his desire to make Muratori a cardinal, but the
Librarian of Modena was detested in Rome.

Muratori's "Moral Philosophy" was one of
the first and greatest contributions to the sci-
ence of Ethics, and it is noteworthy that it was
preceded by a dedication to the Countess Clelia
BorromeoGrillo, a woman of profound sagacity
and liberal talent and the founder in Milan of a
philosophical and literary Academy, in which
the famous Vallisneri made experiments.

Muratori's "Intellectual Philosophy" is
thoroughly aprioristic, and to the idea that
man must believe by faith and not by reason he
opposes the truth and demonstrates the ne-
cessity of feason; that Pyrrhonism destroys
religion; and that man by his natural faculties
is able to know^, if not in essence, in effect the

46 HISTORY OF

truth of things, God Himself and revealed re-
ligion.

Finally he who had not spared himself in
disinterested labors culminated his life-work by
a noble treatise "Concerning Public Felicity."
This able discussion of laws, customs, religion,
science, literature, arts, agriculture, commerce,
luxuries, taxes, moneys, militia, public monu-
ments and the pastimes of a nation won uni-
versal admiration and the work w^as at once
translated into French and German.

Charles Emmanuel of Sardinia invited Mu-
ratori to Turin, fearing that the historian
would give him and his Austrian predilections
an unenviable immortality. But Muratori would
not leave his beloved Modena. The last letter
that he wrote w^as to Scipione Maffei, address-
ing him as the most vigorous and courageous
champion of Italian Literature then living.

Blind and worn out by his incessant labors,
Muratori calmly aw^aited the approach of death,
and in humble faith expired on the 23rd of Jan-
uary, 1750. He was buried in the Church "taf
the Pomposa, but his remains have since been
transferred to St. Augustine's. A simple Latin
inscription marks his tomb, though the most
eloquent eulogies have been pronounced on him
by his compatriots, and it would be a pleasure
to transcribe a few of them, did space permit.

ITALIAN LITERATURE 47

But I must be content to let my labor of love
speak for itself.

Girolamo Tiraboschi was a Bergamascan
Jesuit who succeeded Muratori as librarian of
Modena, the magnitude of whose work atones
for the meagreness of his biography. Like so
many of his illustrious compatriots Tiraboschi
w^as a pioneer in his department, and w^hen
Hallam came to the writing of his "Introduction
to the Literature of Europe", he said : "In one
country of Europe, and only in one, w^e find a
national history of literature so comprehensive
as to leave uncommemorated no part of its
literary labor. In full and clear exposition, in
minute and exact investigation of facts, Tira-
boschi has few superiors; and such is his good
sense in criticism, that we must regret the spar-
ing use he has made of it. But the principal
object of Tiraboschi was biography."

How often the 16 volumes of Tiraboschi's
"History of Italian Literature" have been in my
hands in the w^riting of this history w^ill be evi-
dfent only to the student, for I have not alw^ays
stopped to name him. He has been one of my
chief authorities for Varchi, Olympia Morata,
the celebrated women of the 17th Century (for
he never fails to extol great women) and in the
general presentation of topics and accuracy of
dates. Tiraboschi deals with every conceivable

48 HISTORY OF

subject upon -which anything has been -written,
and thus transcends the bounds of pure Litera-
ture, but he is always full of a noble enthusiasm,
and his style is in keeping -with his subject. The
only blot upon his character is that he -was not
al-ways just to Muratori.

The Abate Luigi Lanzi, 1731-1809, heads
the list of a noble army of antiquarians. We say
noble, because if there is a life-work -which re-
fines the character by its disinterestedness, it
certainly is that of the antiquary.

We here group Lanzi among the Historians
of the age, as it is through his great "History
of Painting", addressed to the people as -well as
to scholars, that we of this distant age and
country make his acquaintance.

Educated in the Jesuit's College of his native
place, Fermo, Lanzi came to his task admirably
prepared for it. It was indeed preceded by a
number of learned Essays, which attracted uni-
versal attention and gave him at once the rank
of an authority. His friend Tiraboschi urged
him to complete his own "History of Italian Li-
terature" by a -work which should include refer-
ences to all w^riters on Italian Art. The grand
duke Leopold of Florence gave Lanzi a special
appointment in the glorious gallery of that city,
and w^hile the Abate w^as of course always tra-

ITALIAN LITERATURE 49

veling in behalf of his researches, Florence be-
came his headquarters for many years.

It was eminently fitting that Italian Lite-
rature should embody some tribute to that Art
in which the Italians have vanquished all other
nations, ancient or modern. And as Greek Lite-
rature is sculpturesque, so is Italian Literature
pictoric, and no one can understand it who
fails to study Italian Painting.

Lanzi refers to about 140 Italians w^ho
wrote on this subject, treating of the Art from
a scientific point of view. But Vasari alone, as
we already know, had written a work of pop-
ular interest as well as technical merit. Vasari
had given the Lives of the Painters. Lanzi now^
gives the History of Painting. For Yasari's
garrulous narration of events, Lanzi substitutes
method, criticism, an investigation of the sourc-
es and causes of events. In these three compact
volumes which have been put w^ithin easy reach
by Thomas Roscoe and Professor Trail, we
have the Schools of Florence, Siena, Rome, Na-
ples, Venice, Lombardy (including Mantua,
Modena, Parma, Cremona and Milan), Bo-
logna, Ferrara and Piedmont characterized;
epochs are marked and masters distinguished
from their pupils. And in following Lanzi's
marvelous specification of three thousand one
hundred and tw^enty-four Italian painters, whose

50 HISTORY OF

transcendent genius flooded the world with
a glory hitherto undreamed of, and opened the
very portals of Paradise, w^e exclaim, "No other
country can be compared to Italy"! She has
given the world more than it could comprehend,
and the fame of her Literature has been obscur-
ed by the dazzling brilliancy of her Art.

The great French critic, Taine, excused him-
self from writing on Italian Literature because,
he said, he found that it came to an end in the
17th century. Rather, as a matter of fact, was
it about to begin. It did indeed decline at that
time, but it could not die. No nation's annals
indite a more illustrious name than that of Giu-
seppe Parini. A little lame priest, a deformed,
despised teacher, who lived poor and died poor,
and whose bones were thrown into the trench
for paupers, was at this time the dictator and
sovereign of that country which has been called
the germinating country, and that literature
w^hich by common consent is acknowledged to
possess a seminal power.

Giuseppe Parini was bom in a little village
near Milan in 1729, and entered the Bamabite
School of San Alessandro in Milan at the age of
eleven. The rigors of poverty compelled him to
wear the tonsure and • at twenty-five he was
ordained priest. For a time he supported him-
self and his mother as a copyist, but even in the

ITALIAN LITERATURE 51

midst of these ungrateful labors he managed to
write and publish a little volume of Arcadian
Verses. While Princes and potentates were at
times, and especially at this time, indifferent to
letters, there was always a literary class in this
favored land ready to do homage to genius.
Writers did not starve to death for lack of ap-
preciation in Italy as they did in England.
Hence Parini was at once admitted to the select
circle of the Arcadians.

For the literary Academy still flourished
with some degree of vigor. The ridiculous titles
of these Societies, as well as the sobriquets of
individuals have occasioned much comment.
Why were these learned men banded together
as the "Sleepy", the "Stunned", the Humids",
the "Insipids"? An answer to the question be-
comes imperative when we discover the grave,
satirical Parini among the "Shepherds."

Some have said the Italians shielded them-
selves under this pleasantry for political reasons.
Others aver that the Church's persecutions and
suspicions of learning necessitated this mode of
concealment. One writer says the Italians are
so frolicsome and childlike that even the most
learned enjoy some form of merrymaking. My
explanation is that, having lighted the torch of
European learning, in restoring Greek Litera-
ture, they felt constrained to make light of this

52 HISTORY OF

weight of erudition. The institution of the Aca-
demy was simply a veil for embarrassment.
The preservation of the institution became a
matter of national pride.

Soon after the publication of the Arcadian
verses Parini became a private tutor in the
house of the Duke of Serbelloni. And in 1763
the first part of his great Satire, "The Day",
saw the light. This was entitled "The Morn-
ing" and in 1765 "Mid-day" appeared: while
the remaining portions, "Evening" and "Night"
were published posthumously in 1801-1804.

But the first installment of this exquisite
Poem was received by the literati with rapture.
Parini became a literary idol, and a brief period
of ease and prosperity ensued, in which he filled
the Professorship of Eloquence in the Palatine
School of Milan (1769) and then that of Fine
Arts in the Brera (1773), and w^as allotted a
residence in the palace of the Academy. When
the victorious armies of the French Republic took
Lombardy from Austria and created the Cisal-
pine Republic, Parini was elected a member of
the Municipality and made a part of the Third
Committee, which was occupied with finance,
ecclesiastical causes, beneficence and public in-
struction. The return of the Austrians did not
cause Parini great regret. Though a democrat
of the democrats, he had no sympathy with the

ITALIAN LITERATDKE 53

excesses of the French nor for reforms which
originated at the bottom of society. Of his
great Satire, "The Day", he says:

"Often men are moved by bitter mirth,
And I with this have tried to check the errors
Of fortunate, illustrious men, fount
Whence the people draw their thirst for vice."

Age, chronic infirmity and a cataract over
the right eye, aggravated by sorrow over the
apparently hopeless condition of his country,
brought the life of this great man to a close in
August 1799. The French law of equality after
death deprived him of funeral honors and a
monument, and this gave risetoFoscolo's noble
Poem, "Dei Sepolcri."

Parini's Lectures in Milan were attended
with an enthusiasm which reminds us of the
homage given Poliziano. The Parinian Odes
are acknowledged by all to have much novelty
and force. The best are those entitled "The Li-
berty of the Fields"; the "Salubrity of the Air";
"On the Convalescense of Carlo Imbonati",
(aged 11); "To the Marchesa Paolo Casti-
glioni", who brought Parini Alfieri's Tragedies;
"To the Muse." And there are fine Sonnets on
Himself, and on Yittorio Alfieri. These all
breathe the same lively conception of human
dignity, the same hatred of tyranny, an unquen-

54 HISTORY OF

chable love of learning, and an inspiring mo-
rality.

Of all the surprises in this study none is
greater than that of finding an Italian the ori-
ginator of Utilitarianism. Yet the great dictum
of this school of thought, ~ that the greatest
happiness of the greatest number is the foun-
dation of morals and legislation ~ can be di-
rectly traced to the Marquis Cesare Beccaria,
and Bentham himself acknowledges it bravely.
(Works, Vol. X, p. 142.)

With this sacred watchword on his lips,
this celebrated nobleman, who was born in
Milan in 1735, and educated in the Jesuit Col-
lege of Parma, effected a mighty revolution. His
first publication was an able treatise on the
currency, and he then joined with his friends,
the Verris, in publishing a small journal called
"II Caffe", a mild and conciliatory effort to hu-
manize and refine his countrymen. But in 1764
his great treatise "On Crimes and Punishments"
threw into the shade his previous writings. Men
recognized a master-spirit, and in 18 months
this work passed through six editions. The
European nations not only translated and read
it, but at once set about altering their penal
codes on the basis proposed by Beccaria. The
Marquis was appointed to the chair of Public
Law and Economy in the Palatine College of

ITALIAN LITERATURE 55

Milan, and his Lectures were published for the
rest of the world.

Incessant labors for the good of mankind
seem to have cut short a life so inexpressibly-
valuable; and as we record the fact that the
Marquis of Beccaria died at the age of 58, a
strong argument in favor of an hereditary ari-
stocracy presents itself. We cannot but wonder
whether anyone but a patrician could have de-
voted himself to such disinterested labors, or
would have been able to point out so temper-
ately the responsibilities of rulers.

The time w^as w^hen foreigners gravely asked
w^hether the Italian language was capable of
expressing profound and complicated thoughts.
Among those w^ho forever silenced such ques-
tionings Gaetano Filangieri, 1752-1788, stands
out conspicuously. Though w^e have observed
that Milan was now becoming the literary
centre of Italy, there was much intellectual and
sociological activity in Naples also, and when
Filangieri was born there in 1752, he inherited
the legal learning and philosophical acumen of
Gravina and Vico.

Like Beccaria, Filangieri belonged to the
nobility and devoted all his energies to the
people. His great work was "The' Science of
Legislation", and w^hen we read of its scope
and magnitude, it seems almost incredible that

56 HISTORY OF

his short life of 36 years could have accomplish-
ed such Avonders. We are reminded of Sanazza-
ro's lines :

" O brief as bright, too early blest " !

The honors that -were heaped on the young
publicist, the homage of all Europe, the censure
of the church and the condemnation of the Index
form one of the most fascinating chapters in
the history of reform. Filangieri-was thoroughly
and brilliantly original in his philosophy, and
it is a delightful mental exercise to note his
divergences from Vico and Montesquieu.

But if the 18th century is beneficent and
glorious in its contributions to the sum of hu-
man knowledge, it is none the less endeared to us
by its light-heartedness and humanity. The Pas-
toral Drama had attained its greatest heights
in the "Orfeo" of Poliziano, the "Aminto" of
Tasso and the "Pastor Fido" of Guarini, in all
of which there w^as some singing. But the step
from the eclogue to the pastoral fable w^as not
so great as that from the latter to the melodra-
ma. The Italians were the originators of the
Opera. Ottavio Rinuccini at the very end
of the cinquecento produced "Dafne", the first
drama set to music; and the 17th century was
ushered in by his "Euridice", while for the third
time he enchanted the public with his "Arianna"

ITALIAN LITER ATUKE 57

in 1608. It is most interesting to find that
Italy possessed an entire school of musicians
ready to carry out the ideas of the librettists;
but of these ofcourse we cannot speak here.

It was a happy day for the world when the
erudite Apostolo Zeno (1668-1750) turned his
attention to the w^riting of Operas, for without
Zeno we should not have had Metastasio. Ri-
nuccini had had many followers, but Apostolo
Zeno made the most marked improvement upon
these. Born in Venice and devoted to study and
historical investigation, Zeno w^as called by the
Emperor Charles YI. to Vienna to fill the post
of poet laureate (poeta cesareo) at that court.
There he produced "Ifigenia", "Andromaca",
"Mitridate" and "Nitocri", which, though no
longer read, w^on great applause at the time
and prepared the way for new developments.
We know Zeno as an authority in History and
it is strange to think of him in this new capa-
city. But the most charming thing about his
biography is his generous friendship for Meta-
stasio. Zeno's star was setting as that of Me-
tastasio rose, and spiteful persons tried to make
the two poets quarrel. But the attempt was an
utter failure, for Zeno requested permission to
retire from his lucrative post and pointed out
Metastasio as his successor. This was a swan-

58 HISTORY OF

song worthy of a poet, and the seal to a beau-
tiful apostleship.

Scipione Maffei was born at Verona in 1675
and gave evidence of literary talent at an early
age. Like Gravina, Maffei based his love for
the drama upon a strong foundation of know'l-
edge; embracing History, Antiquity and Na-
tural Philosophy in his pursuits. After under-
taking a poem in 100 cantos on the "Harmony
of Human Virtues" and producing a remarkable
critique on the "Rodogune" of Corneille, Maffei
appeared as the author of the great tragedy of
"Merope", realizing his own dreams, exciting
unbounded admiration in his contemporaries,
and producing a work w^orthy to be compared
with the great dramas of Voltaire and Alfieri.

Maffei's object w^as to convince the moderns
that a tragedy might be written w^ithout a
syllable of love. The dignity w^ith w^hich he
succeedes in investing this tragedy is due to
this, as w^ell as to the blank verse, to which the
Italian so readily lends itself. The finest pas-
sage in this drama is that in which Euryses, at-
tempting to console Merope for the loss of her
son, says :

" Think how the mighty King, for whom all Greece
In arms arose 'gainst Troy, in Aulis gave
His dear child to a fierce and cruel death,
As the gods wiU'd it."

ITALIAN LITERATURE 59

And Merope replies :

"But, O Euryses, the great gods had never
Required it of a mother."

Maffei also applied his talents to comedy
but did not meet with much success. Dying at
the advanced age of 80 in 1755, he had the sa-
tisfaction of knowing that he had done much
towards enabling Italy to shake off her sloth.

We have already been introduced to the
gifted Metastasio in the sketch of Gravina.
Never did anyone more brilliantly fulfill fond
hopes than this little street urchin. The world
is divided into only two classes on the subject
of Metastasio; he was so lucky, so fortunate
from a worldly point of view, that to this day
few critics can speak of him dispassionately. At
the age of 20 Metastasio became the heir of
Gravina's fortune of 15,000 scudi, and he was
so inexperienced in taking care of himself that
he quickly squandered it. Leaving Rome and
taking up his abode in Naples, he entered a law-
yer's office, but when Prince Marc Antonio
Borghese wanted a drama written to celebrate
the birthday festival of the Empress Elizabeth
Cristina, no one but Metastasio could be found
to respond to the emergency. ' 'The Gardens of
the Hesperides" w^as the manifestation of his
talent, the beginning of his fame, and the first

60 HISTORY OF

of that long series of Librettos which gave Eu-
rope a ne\vr style of poetry and brought it to
the greatest perfection it has ever known. Be-
sides his splendid philosophical and classical
education, Metastasio equipped himself for his
work by a thorough study of Music under the
great Porpora, and this was the secret of his
success.

Being obliged to frequent the Theatre, Me-
tastasio became acquainted w^ith the celebrated
singer Marianna Bulgarelli. Young, beautiful
and endowed with an angelic voice, when she
spoke to Metastasio, younger than herself and
surrounded by so much glory, the kindling of
an ardent passion on both sides was no strange
result. Though Marianna had a husband, the
cicisbeism of the age presented no obstacle to
the enjoyment of this passion. But to the credit
of Metastasio he deplored his situation and,
being named successor to Apostolo Zeno at the
Court of Vienna, to save his honor he broke
away from friends, country, and the woman
who loved him as disinterestedly and tenderly
as ever man was loved.

Though Marianna supported the separation
with firm and dignified resignation, it was un-
doubtedly the cause of her death a few years
later. On this event, Metastasio again found
himself the heir of a large fortune. But again

ITALIAN LITERATURE 61

he displayed a great soul and renounced every
penny of it in favor of Marianna's husband.

For a long time the flattered and adored
poet nursed his grief in solitude and silence. But
the beautiful Countess Pignatelli d'Althan by
her unremitting favors and attentions drew him
from his seclusion and they w^ere so often seen
together that many believed them married. The
fashion of the times did not make it necessary
to establish this fact.

At the Court of Vienna Metastasio enjoyed
the favor of Charles YI., Maria Theresa and
Joseph II. and all the sovereigns of Europe gave
him proofs of their esteem and honor. Leaving
an immense fortune to his friend the Councilor
Martinez, in w^hose house he had lived for many
years, Metastasio expired on the 12th of April,
1782, and was buried in the Church of San Mi-
chele in Vienna. Modest, disinterested, grateful
to his benefactors, a man of simple manners and
loved by all who knew him, the personality of
Metastasio corresponds to the noble sentiments
expressed in his Operas, And that must be a
surly nature w^hich refuses to pay homage to
one w^ho bore prosperity as nobly as adversity,
and took the sting from his success by identi-
fying it with the happiness of all classes of so-
ciety and all phases of human fortune.

Carlo Goldoni, the most celebrated comic

62 HISTORY OF

playwright of this Literature, was born in Ve-
nice in 1707; and, though destined by his family
to the Law, in making a short tour with a
company of players, he soon made the discovery
that he had a remarkable genius for comedy.
His first piece was " La Donna di Garbo " ( The
Lady of Merit) and from the date of its success
Goldoni went on writing Plays so rapidly that
we are assured their number reached 150.
Quickly overthrowing his predecessors, Goldoni
found after awhile that he was being superseded
in popular esteem by Count Carlo Gozzi. The
struggle continued but a short time, for Goldo-
ni became so irritated by Gozzi's success that
he resolved to leave Italy forever.

He was welcomed at the French court, and
he began life over again by writing comedies in
French, and though these met with deserved
favor in Italy, he could not be persuaded to re-
visit that fair land. The pension given him by
the King of France being lost by the Revolution
in '93, Andr^Chenier proposed its restitution in
the National Convention. And Goldoni dying
the day after, the Convention by a second de-
cree assigned 1200 francs annually to his wi-
dow. The Italians so greatly admired and va-
lued Goldoni that this action of the French did
a great deal not only to reconcile them to the
French invasions, but to excite and foster an

ITALIAN LITERATURE 63

imitation of French Literature and Art. Besides
the numerous Plays Goldoni bequeathed his
nation, a great value is placed upon his Me-
moirs, in which he demonstrates what he had
done for the national comedy from his own
point of view.

Some dignified historians altogether pass
over the literary feats of Count Carlo Gozzi
(1720-1806) who was so immensely popular in
his own day that he carried everything before
him. It requires considerable research to di-
scover that he was bom in Venice, the son of
the poetess Angela Tiepolo, the brother of the
charming essayist Gaspare Gozzi, and of sisters
who were poetesses; so that being poor, though
noble, they were wont to say they lived in a
hospital of poets. The condition of his family
made it necessary for Carlo to enter the mili-
tary service in his 16th year, and it was not
until he was 19 that he set himself to serious
studies in Venice.

Believing that the comedy of Art was a na-
tional production in which pride should betak-
en, Gozzi. opposed Goldoni with all the energy
of his being, and while his success w^as simply
marvelous in his own times, he has been almost
relegated to oblivion by the modems. There
w^as a period in which he deserted original pro-
duction and translated from the French for the

64 HISTORY OF

actress Teodora Ricci, who seems to have fasci-
nated him more than any other woman he
knew. Like Goldoni, Gozzi wrote his Memoirs,
and they furnish most interesting reading for
the carious.

The name of Vittorio Al£eri is almost as
sacred to the Italians as the name of Dante.
The writer of the greatest dramas Italy ever
produced, the possessor of a strong and striking
personality, an ardent lover and advocate of
liberty, a master of the Tuscan tongue, — Alfieri
is identified w^ith the greatness of his country.

The pleasure of discovering that Alfieri wrote
his own "Life" is much modified on finding that
it is w^ritten in a spirit of cynical self-deprecia-
tion, very much in the Byronic style. We shall,
therefore, not pay much attention to this Auto-
biography, but draw our conclusions from the
hard facts of the poet's life and from his dramas.

Count Vittorio Alfieri was born in Asti, a
city of Piedmont, in 1749. His father died while
he was a baby, and his mother ( w^hom he al-
w^ays loved) married a second time. At nine
years the young nobleman entered the Academy
of Turin, where wretched methods of instruc-
tion and full permission to indulge in the extra-
vagancies induced by his wealth ministered to
that want of self-respect which is so marked in
the Autobiography. On "graduating" from

ITALIAN LITERATURE 65

this Academy in 1766, it was the proper thing
for a young man to travel, and after obtaining
the King's consent (such were the ridiculous
regulations of the age), Alfieri visited Italy,
France and England. Hardly had he returned
home when a second tour was undertaken and
this time the Continent was traversed.

It was while in Spain that Alfieri formed an
intimacy with the good Abate Tommaso di Ca-
luso, and it was the reading of an Ode of Gui-
di's by this attractive and cultured Abate that
w^oke the "Phoebean flame" in the breast of the
young nobleman. On returning home and en-
deavoring to w^rite, however, Alfieri found that
he could not w^rite a correct sentence in Italian,
the Piedmontese dialect and the French Ian-
guage being his only resources. He immediately
began the study of Latin with a teacher and
went to Florence to acquire Tuscan, His first
dramatic attempt, "Cleopatra" was performed
in Turin in 1775.

During the course of his roving life Alfieri
formed warm friendships with Parini, Cesarotti
and the Signor Francesco Gori Gandellini of
Siena. And in a second stay at Florence he be-
came acquainted with Louisa von Stolberg, the
Countess of Albany and the w^ife of the Pre-
tender, Charles Edward Stuart, who had treat-

66 HISTORY OF

ed her so outrageously that she had been com-
pelled to flee from him.

Shortly after this Alfieri determined to rid
himself of the feudal obligations which were
intolerable to his proud nature; and in order to
be free, he parted with half of his income. This
has always made him many enemies, for little
minds hate such evidences of greatness.

His "Antigone" was performed in 1782 by
amateurs in a private theatre in Rome and won
great applause. In 1783 four more tragedies
were printed. And as the years passed his noble
and indomitable soul poured itself out in drama
after drama, - the only way he could think of
to lift his countrymen into that pure ether where
liberty lives, oppression ceases, virtue reigns.

Among those who responded to these Plays
was Renier di Calsabigi. Drawn out by the ge-
nius of Alfieri, Calsabigi wrote criticisms of his
"Works and these display the most remarkable
acquaintance with the whole field of dramatic
writing and, in turn, influenced the distinguish-
ed tragedian.

Residing for awhile in Paris for the purpose
of pttblishinghis'tra^ed'ies^ Alfieri found himself
in the maelstrom of the French Revolution; and
it w^as with difficulty that he made his way
back to Florence. The very fact that liberty
was so dear to him made the abuse of it intole.

ITALIAN LITERATURE 67

rable. His whole nature was embittered by
this travesty of freedom and it made him hate
everything that was French.

At the age of 46 Alfieri determined to acquire
Greek, and such was the iron force of his will
that in a few years he both read and wrote in
that difficult language. But the strangest part
in all this is that he had written Greek tragedies
in the style of the Greeks long before he knew
anything about them: that is, Alfieri worked
out the ideal of the Greeks by the sheer force of
his genius ! No modem writer has given such
incontestable proof of creative po\(rer.

Twenty years of Alfieri's life were spent with
the Countess of Albany in one of those strange
unions which the times permitted and society
condoned. He wrote many other things besides
his Tragedies, but we cannot name them here.
It was through the tragedies that he energized
the whole Italian people. He w^as a reformer
and hence still antagonizes a certain class of
readers. There are those who hate him for being
an aristocrat. But as Italian Literature as a
whole is the work of aristocrats, he can hardly
bear the blame of this alone.

Alfieri died standing, making his mind rule
his body in mortal anguish. He was cut oflf at
the age of 55, not in the zenith of his powers,
for he had himself pronounced those powers to

68 HISTORY OF

be declining. Volumes may be >vritten about
him both as a man and as a genius. If it is true
that he never depicted but one character and
that his own, the world is indebted to him for
the revelation of his sublime personality as
much as it is for his unique productions.

A witty Frenchman said the Italians never
had a w^riter until Bettinelli appeared. He pro-
bably meant the Italians had none of those
charming essays or livres d'agr^ment, in which
the French converse so happily with every peo-
ple in the world. But the assertion does not
stand the test of examination. Castiglione,
Varchi, Tassoni and Gravina had written de-
lightful essays before the time of Bettinelli. And
if we admit that the French immeasurably excel
the Italians in prose, it is just as true that the
Italian is preeminently a poetical literature,
and the glory of having written perfect prose in
such a language becomes all the greater. This
is the renownof SaverioBettifle/Zr, whohas been
called "the most perfect embodiment of the lite-
rary man in the 18th century."

A Mantuan Jesuit, a free thinker and in cor-
respondence with Voltaire, Bettinelli rises before
the imagination as a polished gentleman, a fin-
ished man of the world. He seems to have
w^ritten a little of everything, courtly letters,
excellent sonnets, the drama of "Xerxes", a

ITALIAN LITERATURE 69

history of the " Risorgimento d' Italia", and
finally, emboldened by success, those startling
essays which he called "Virgilian Letters."

In these essays there is acute and sound ob-
servation, but in a moment of unparalleled
audacity Bettinelli seized his opportunity to
attack Dante, openly calling him a clown and
his work a monstrosity. At first this was greet-
ed with a burst of thoughtless applause from
the non-literary, but in a little while all this
was changed. And now in spite of excellent
advice in regard to literary forms, a style deem-
ed irreproachable, many wise and v\ritty obser-
vations, these "Letters", purporting to be Vir-
gil's from Eliseum, must be hurried over with a
mere mention, and modern critics simply stig-
matize them as "the indecencies of Bettinelli."

The way in which Melcbiorre Cesarotti
(1730-1808) turned Italy upside down with his
brilliant translation of Macpherson's "Ossian"
cannot be passed over in silence. Cesarotti was
a Paduan professor, and not only wrote Essays
on Language, but attempted to recast the Iliad.
This effort was wholly unsuccessful, and noth-
ing saved its author from oblivion, but his own
willingness to join in the laugh it raised.

On making the acquaintance of Lord Sack-
ville and obtaining from him the "Poems of
Ossian" Cesarotti was so delighted with the

70 HISTORY OF

novelty of this strange book, that he at once
made himself master of English and gave his
countrymen a version of the poem unequaled
for vigor, superabundance, elegance and beauty.

The contrast between the pale, sad melan-
choly of the thoughts, and the deep, rich coloring
of the words in this unique translation is unlike
anything else in Literature, and can only be
likened to effects produced by music. No one
seems to have noticed that while the manners
and customs of the Caledonians were alien to
the Italians, the names of the personages could
be so easily Italianized. Tremorre, Fingallo,
Ossian, Oscarre, Dartula, Sulmalla, Malvina,
Nato, &c. &c. certainly seem to have originated
under Southern skies.

It was with considerable difficulty that I
succeeded in obtaining a copy of Cesarotti's Os-
sian; and at last the four little volumes came to
me from "learned Padua", bearing the date of
1772! So completely extinct is the frenzy which
this work once excited. Not only w^as there a
sect of Ossianeschi, but everyone agreed that
Cesarotti had forever conquered the Arcadians.

Presupposing a knowledge of Macpherson's
Ossian, I give specimens of the rersi sciolti, that
they may be compared with the rough, bom-
bastic and ungainly English.

ITALIAN LITERATURE 71

From Temora, Canto VI, 297.

" Bammenta il breve fugitive corse
Delia vita mortals : un popol viene ;
!^ corrente ruscel ; svanisoe, 6 sofflo :
Altra schiatta succede ; alcun fra tanti
Segna per6 nel suo paasaggio il campo
Coi suoi possenti e gloriosi fatti.
Egli la muta oscurita degli anni
Signoreggia col noma ; alia sua fama
Serpe un garrulo rivo, alia rinverde".

Temora, Canto V, 390.

''AI suon piacevole
D'arpe tremanti
Mescete o Vergini
Mescete i canti :
Fillan gli chiede,
Del suo valor mercede".

From Songs of Selma, 86.

" Cessa, o vento, per poco, e tu per poco
Taci, o garrulo rio ; lascia che s'oda
La voce mia, lascia che m'oda il mio
Salgar errante.

Ecco sorge la Luna e riperoossa
L'onda risplende, le pendiai alpini
GiS, si tingon d'azzurro, e lui non miro.

Quando sul coUe stendera la notte
Le negre penne, quando il vento tace
■ Su I'erte cime, andra '1 mio spirto errando
Per I'amato acre, e dolorosamente
Fiangere i miei diletti ; udr^ dal foudo
Delia capanna la lugubre voce
II cacoiator smarrito, e ad un sol tempo
E temenza e dolcezza andragli al core,
Che dolcemente la mia flebil voce
Si lagnera sopra gli estinti amici,
Del paro entrambi a lo mio cor si cari".

72 HISTORY OF

The Italian genius was so alert and fruitful
in this century that it does not seem possible to
make an exhaustive study of it. Closely con-
nected with the claims of Literature was that
"living library", Antonio Magliabeccbi of Flo-
rence, 1633-1714, to whom the learned of all
countries had recourse; the "portentous poly-
glot", Giuseppe Meziofanti of Bologna, 1774-
1849, who spoke 50 or 60 languages and dia-
lects and made devout use of his power in the
Confessional; and the distinguished scientist,
Alessandro Volta, of Como, 1745-1827, w^ho
with his electric pile stands at the head of all
modern discoveries in Chemistry and Physics.

It was in this wonderful age that the real
veneration for Dante took its start. Boccaccio,
Filelfo, Landino, Varchi, Mazzoni, Crescimbeni,
Tiraboschi and Muratori, besides many others
whom we have not been able to bear in mind,
had from time to time tried to rouse the people's
ardor for their great poet. But we have seen
how utterly indififerent the people had remained,
and how they preferred to be Petrarchists and
Arcadians.

The impetus towards the enthronement of
Dante came, undoubtedly, from Alfonso Varano,
who openly combatted Voltaire, by declaring
that Dante's episode of Ugolino was equal to
anything in the range of pagan literature. Va-

ITALIAN LITERATURE 73

rano's own imitation of Dante, however, suc-
ceeded much better than his criticism at this
stage of development. Leoaarc/uccifollowed with
a poem on "Providence"; Manfredi with his
"Paradise"; Cosimo Bettiin the "Consummation
of the Ages"; while Lodovico Salvi knew the
Divine Comedy by heart and wrote out all of
Dante's arguments in verse. We shall see that
the hint was adopted by Monti; all of whose
compositions take the form of a Vision, and are
as marked by reverence as by splendor of style.

The attack on Dante by the learned Betti-
nelli was a second step in the restoration of
Dante, for it evoked a masterly reply from Ga-
spare Gozzi, 1713-1786, the brother of the fa-
mous playwright. His "Difesa di Dante" was
written with so much good taste and sense and
discretion that it completely obliterated Betti-
nelli's impudence and vanity.

Splendid editions of Dante were published
about this time by Antonio Zappi of Venice and
Gian Giacomo Dionisi of Verona.

Finally, a priest by the name of Antonio
Cesari, 1760-1828, wrote three large volumes
vrhich he entitled "The Beauties of the Divine
Comedy", and though he seldom rises above
w^ords and phi ases, he proceeds in this depart-
ment "as a master." As a classicist Cesari
roused many enemies; but while one critic calls

74 HISTORY OF

him "an egregious apostle of purism", another
pronounces the humble and obscure priest, "one
of the first and most efficacious to succeed in
making our tongue a bond and a pledge of fra-
ternity in the peninsula."

In the latter part of the 18th century there
appeared that phenomenal class of poets known
as the Improrvisatori. Ariosto, indeed, in the
16th century had professed to improvise the
stanzas of the "Furioso." And Fortiguerra at
the beginning of this 18th century had made a
boast of turning out a canto a day. Nourished
and brought up on Poetry as the Italians were,
it was not strange that people of all classes of
society should wake up one day and find them-
selves able to versify.

Bartoloaieo Sestini, 1792-1822, is spoken of
as one of the most skilful of these poets, though
it is not quite clear whether his principal poem,
"La Pia dei Tolomei", is an improvisation.
Indeed, on the contrary, its polish suggests the
file. But we must depend upon the chroniclers.

In this pretty narrative poem we meet an
old acquaintance, for Dante introduced us to
Pia in the 5th Canto of the Purgatorio, among
those who had met death by violence. For some
occult reason Sestini chooses to set aside the
tradition that Pia was thrown headlong from
the castle window by her cruel husband, and

ITALIAN LITERATURE 75

gives US to understand that, imprisoned in the
Castello della Pietra by her husband, she was
left there to be slowly killed by the drought and
scorching heat of Maremma. He says :

" This year a burning all unknown before
Throughout our hot Maremma held its sway,
And fiery columns seemed the sun to pour
And rain down on firm plains its every ray.
While sinking in its folds of flame and gore
It but foretold new grief for coming day.
Unhappy Pia ! sky and sun conspire
To waste thy life with this mysterious flre."

The aspect of nature in this Sery trial gives
rise to most beatiful description, and he con-
tinues :

"The labors of the field are hush'd ; the farmers flee

And leave the valleys which ingulf their life,

In bush and hedge the birds forego their glee

And still their innocent and harmless strife.

A lone cicada in yon tiny tree

Is deafening fields, with strident metre rife,

Nor at the sun will he now cease to rail

Until the adamantine cry shall fail."

" The bull once wont his crescent horns to dash
In bold display of kingship o'er the herd.
And sharpened on the bark of the wild ash
Would roar against the fiercest blast winds stirred,
Now flees the fervor of the hot day's lash.
Nor is again to grass or bright brook lured,
And down he lies and bends his head to seize
With wide-spread nostril e'en the faintest breeze."

Puccianti calls this last verse "stupendous",
and it is hard to see how it could be improved.

76 HISTORY OF

The sufferings of the sweet and gentle Pia,
not only from the intense heat, but from the
ghosts of the old castle, are graphically depicted.
At length she sees from her window an old
hermit, and to him she speaks of her husband;

" And give him news of me, so near my end,
That for the evil I brought him I pay.
Give him", — the ring she held out in her hand —
"Give him", she followed, "what he once gave me.
And say that as this has no break or bend.
Unchanged, unbroken is my fealty."

And while the solitary is exhorting Pia to
trust in God and rest assured "He does not make
eternal the sufferings of the good", she breathes
her last, and he is left "to contemplate the
empty balcony."

PARINI'S SATIRE.

The conditions demanded by the satire as a
work of Art were so perfectly fulfilled in Parini,
that the enjoyment of his famous Poem is two-
fold. The author of "The Day" not only had
the mind to perceive the most intimate charac-
teristics of that society which was, in appear-
ance aristocratic, but in reality corrupt, effem-
inate and vulgar; he was himself in habits of
thought and feeling, in pure and noble ideals of
life, and in actual personality in open and stri-
dent conflict w^ith this society.

There w^ere other satirists besides Parini.
Such men as Gaspare Gozzi, 1) Giuseppe Baret-
ti, 2) Giambattista Casti, 3) Martelli 4) and
Verri 5) pointed out the national vices, chastis-

1) See page 73 of this volume.

2, Giuseppe Baretti, 1716-1789, was a journalist, who
edited and wrote "The Literary Scourge."

3) Giambattista Casti, 1721-1804, wrote a poetical sa-
tire on the European courts, entitled "Animali Parlanti. "

4) Piero Jacopo Martelli, 1665-1727, was a dramatic
writer, who was specially happy in his original style.

5) Pietro Verri of Milan, 1728-1796, edited "II Gaffe'
and endeavored both in jest and earnest to reform man-
ners and customs.

78 HISTORY OF

ed prevailing customs and ridiculed Italian in-
stitutions, from the supreme silliness of the Ar-
cadians to the cicisbeism of the upper circles.
But they did not see society as an organic total-
ity; nor were they in themselves a speaking,
living contradiction to this organism.

In the possession of these powers Parini was
able to w^rite a Satire in w^hich every word is
freighted with sardonic venom. This gives "The
Day" a unique charm, which almost oversha-
dows the magnificence of the blank verse, the
force of the classic allusions, and that marvelous
w^edging of the words w^hich is peculiar to the
Italian and which called forth such a storm of
applause from the poet's contemporaries.

Pretending to teach the young Lombard
lord how he ought to spend the day, — "these
irksome, tedious days of life, which such insuffer-
able weariness accompanies", the Poet says as
his pupil "has already devoutly visited the al-
tars sacred to Venus and the gamester, Mercury,
in Gallia and Albion, and bears yet the marks
imprinted by his zeal, now it is time to rest."

The morning has hardly dawned ere the
farmer "goes forth with the slow oxen into the
field, and shakes from the curved branches the
dewy humors which the new-bom rays of the
sun refract like gems." And the artisan is
equally busy "with arches and locks, or with

ITALIAN LITERATURE 79

jewels and vases of silver and gold to serve as
ornaments for brides and banquets." But what?
Is the young lord horrified and do these words
make his hair stand on end like that of a pricked
porcupine? Ah, this is not his morning. He has
not sat at the scanty meal nor slept on a hard
pillow as the humble crowd is condemned to
do. He is a celestial progeny; he is a kind of
demi-god and has spent the best part of the
night at the theatre and gambling-room, rush-
ing back to his mansion in his gilded coach and
dispersing the darkness of the night with lan-
terns that (in their ostentatiousness) can only
be compared to the torches borne for Pluto by
the Furies. At last after indulging liberally in
drink, his faithful servant drew the silken cur-
tains of his bed, and the cock that is wont to
open the eyes of others sweetly closed those of
our hero.

The sipping of his coffee in bed and every
detail of his fastidious toilet is then prescribed,
until at length his mentor admits that he "has
now thought enough about himself."

"Thou knowest", he continues, "that Hea-
ven destines a companion for the young lord,
with whom he may share the tiresome burden
of this inert life." "Is his hearer fainting"? Oh,
he is not speaking of marriage — with all its in-
cumbrances and vulgar cares. No, no; let him

80 HISTORY OF

perish who would give such counsel. Our hero's
companion will be a young w^oman and the
wife of another. For so the inviolable rite of the
gay world ordains.

No people ever exhibited a more glaring lack
of self-respect in social life than the Italians of
the 18th century. Marriage was a mere sop to
Cerberus, nothing more than a financial in-
vestment. Every married woman had her lover,
or cicisbeo, and there w^as, as Parini declares, a
recognized ritual or code for the conduct of
these cavalieri serventi. With all their immo-
ralities the French were never guilty of anything
so grossly indecent, and their travelers of this
period speak of the Italians with disgust.

But as the morning lengthens into noon-day
the young lord must hasten to the breakfast at
his lady's house. The lofty progeny of gods
must not blush to give a few^ moments (!) to
food. Eating is only a vile occupation for those
driven to it by hard, irresistible need. Pleasure
alone invites our hero. Ofcourse there is splendid
scope for the Parinian irony in the description
of the guests at the Breakfast. As voluptuous-
ness declines, conversation is in order, and "a no-
ble vanity spurs all minds." "Love of self alone,
boldly surveying the scene, brings a sceptre to
each one and says : 'Reign'!" War, peace, the
condottieri, the arts of Pallas and the Muses,

ITALIAN LITERATURE 81

the philosophers who reigned tyratinically in
Greece and then in the Tuscan land revived with
even greaterforce, are subjects easily disposed of.

" Is, then, to know so much the rightful boon
Of noble minds? O bed, o mirror, meal,
Race-course, and stage, estates, blood, family-tree
"What through you is not learn'd? Now thou, my lord.
With boldest flight of thy own happy skill
Must raise thyself o'er all. This is the field
Where thou shouldst shine the most. No science,
Be it what it may, in secrets great and grand.
Has ever terrified thy soul."

The airing of his knowledge is, of course,
exquisitely ridiculous. He is permitted even to
go so far as to pretend to know the French
sophists, and to speak in the language of D'A-
lembert and Diderot about "the inverse ratio of
his languor." But oh! how sedulously he must
beware that he does not imbibe any of that
French poison w^hich was teaching

" That each one is equal to the other,
That dear to Nature and belov'd by Heaven
No less than thou is he who holds in check
Thy flery steeds and he who ploughs thy fields."

The afternoon is now advancing, and all the
different members of the laboring class are look-
ing forward to their brief repose. Now let us
follow him

"Who served by all, serves none."

This is the fashionable hour for driving, and
the young swell must accompany his lady to

82 HISTORY OF

the rendezvous which is the objective purpose
of the drive. For there it is the style for the
carriages to stop, and the cavaliers must go
from carriage to carriage to chat with the
married belles and excite as much envy and
jealousy as possible. The parvenu is there and,
ofcourse, towards him it will be the proper
thing to have an expression w^hioh plainly says:
"Who are you"? and this should be followed by
a laughing, whispered conversation with his
companion.

Though invoked by the Muse, the supreme
gods will not suspend the coming of the night
so that our hero's deeds may still be visible to
all. But who has ever depicted the democratic
and impartial sw^ay of night w^ith such skill as
Parini?

"For as she slowly moves her dewy feet
She mingles all earth's colors infinite
And in one limbo vast confuses them
Simply as things in things : Sister of death,
One aspect indistinct, one countenance
To soil, to vegetation and to brutes.
To great and small she equally permits.
The naked, and the painted cheeks of belles
Confounds ; and gold receives no better meed than

[rags."

The canto entitled Night opens with a
splendid poetic outburst, which has been recog-
nized as the first note of romanticism. But the
satire is immediately resumed in contrasting

ITAIJAN LITERATURE 83

the present scion of a noble house with his in
vincible ancestors. For while they fell victims
to sleep almost with the setting sun, he must
nerve himself up to spend the evening at a card-
party and the long vigils occasioned by the
game of chance. Interest here centers upon the
hostess, who is involved in "cruel doubts" in
arranging tables and partners. When all is
settled, "some she combats"; others she "stands
over, to contemplate the events of unstable
fortune and the strokes of luck or wit." In front
of all gravely reigns the council and they are
surrounded by majestic silence. Then the awar-
ding of the prizes follows. Each one draws a
little painted card from a great urn, and their
inane mirth is stimulated at sight of the well-
known figures of Pantaloon, Harlequin and
Pulcinella, as well as by pictures of the monkey,
the cat, and the dear little ass, in which they
have such a pleasing likeness of themselves.

In breaking off abruptly and vaguely the
satire itself loses none of its force, since there is
an implication that the vapidity of the subject
baffles description. When first published it is
said Prince Alberico de' Belgioioso believed him-
self the protagonist of "The Day", and seriously
threatened the author's life; but this is almost
too funny to be believed.

For us the revelation of this work of Art

84 HISTORY OF

(for which the epithet exquisite, is reserved by
the Italians) is its democratic force, its grand
current of humanitarian ideas. The Poet en-
dows us w^ith a noble conception of human dig-
nity and strengthens us for the battle with
vice and folly; and in finishing his w^ork we say
softly: "It is for this that we have toiled and
striven." "The Day" is numbered by many as
the first of those patriotic poems which helped
to free Italy; and by an inevitable law of asso-
ciation Parini walks down the ages arm in arm
with Alfieri.

METASTASIO, PRINCE OF LIBRETTISTS.

As the Greeks had only one Homer and the
Latins one Virgil, so it has been said the Ita-
lians must be contented with one Metastasio.
And though this praise is exaggerated and
bombastic, it points out forcibly the unique po-
sition of this strange poet.

In taking up these wonderful Librettos the
student experiences a new^ pleasure. Language
is no longer found to be a vehicle for thought,
but an exquisite form of Art in itself. There is
not a single word in any of the Operas of Meta-
stasio which is not musical.

His Roman plays are "Dido Abandoned";
"Cato in Utica"; "The Clemency of Titus";
"Regulus". The Oriental Plays are "Artaxerxes";
"Siroes"; "Zenobia"; "The Identification of Cy-
rus"; "Demetrius". The Greek Plays are "Aut
tigonous"; "Demofoontes"; "The Olimpiad";
" Themistocles " ; "Achilles in Scyros", But
w^hile each play has its appropriate setting, the
sentiment par excellence of them all is Honor.
And to sympathize with this sentiment one

86 HISTORY OF

must conceive of an individuality strong enough
to submit, to renounce, to forgive, to humble
itself. In clinging to the dictates of honor all
such weaknesses as self-gratification, love of
present pleasure, self-justification , pride, re-
venge, display must be relinquished.

In "Dido Abandoned'", Selene, Dido's sister,
is also in love with ^neas, and Dido says :

" Go to him, loved sister,
Drive suspicions from the heart of Mneaa,
And tell him nothing but death shall take me from

[him."

Selene replies :

" I will say that thou art true,
To my faith thou mayst surrender ;
I will be to thee most tender ;
(To myself how stern !)
Yes, my lips will speak for you,
And will tell your fond desire,
(But, O God ! with inward fire
Still this heart will burn.")

Selene upbraids her heart for choosing such

a lover, but as she meditates upon the fact that

it is not a matter of choice, she concludes :

" Every lover thinks the dart
That has made his wound so deep
Has been sent by beauty's art,
But it is not so.

Thoughts of love spring in his heart
When that heart expects them least.
There they make for him a feast.
Why, he does not know."

When Dido is counseled to ask pity of the

ITALIAN LITEKATURE 87

Moors and indignantly repels such advice, Se-
lene says :

"Oh, thou must now forget thy rank,

Or else abandon every hope,

For rank with love can never cope."

"Cato in Utica", presented in Rome in the
Carnival of 1727, represents the critical mo-
ment of Caesar's world-wide success , when
Cato alone refused to do him homage. Emilia,
Pompey's widow, is in league with Cato for
Ceesar's destruction, and speaks as a veritable
Roman matron when she apostrophizes Pom-
pey in the lines :

" If in the bosom of some star,
On Lethe's margin, thou dost wait.
Expect me, love, where'er you are.
For I will come ; let wrath be f uiied.
Yes, I will come, when I the shade
Of that base tyrant first have made
To go before my own, for he
For thy damnation armed the world."

"Regulus", the most intensely Roman of all
Roman stories, is shorn of its harrowing fea-
tures in the hands of Metastasio. For one must
be impenetrable w^ho is not fired w^ith delight
and exultation in the invincible fortitude of the
heroic Roman as depicted by the amiable Ita-
lian. The culminating lines occur in Act II, S.
VII, where Regulus is made to say :

" Whate'er this earth of good may hold
Is due to glory ; this redeems
Humanity from that vile state

88 HISTORY OF

In which it lives with no desire for fame.

Tor glory takes the sting from grief ;

When peril threatens, conquers fear ;

And terror takes from death ; dilates

Whole realms ; guards cities, nourishes and forms

For virtue followers : customs

Ferocious mild become, and man

Is made an imitator of the gods."

Taking up the study of the Oriental Plays,
"Artaxerxes" gives us the ideal of a man's friend-
ship for a man; "Siroes" reminds us of "King
Lear", the hero playing the part of Cordelia
against a false, hypocritical brother in the place
of Goneril and Regan; "Zenobia", based upon a
tale in Tacitus, portrays the fidelity of a wife;
"The Identification of Cyrus" is a beautiful tri-
bute to maternal love; and in "Demetrius" we
have a rivalry in magnanimous disinterested-
ness.

Metastasio's Greek Plays are faithful studies
of inspiring episodes, the best of which, "Demo-
foontes" turns upon conjugal devotion. The
marriage of Dirce and Tim ante exposes them to
the King's wrath, and Dirce's farewell to Ti-
mante, when about to reveal their secret, is
very beautiful :

" In thee I hope, O husband loved,
I trust my wretched fate to thee,
And made by thee, whate'er it be.
To me it shall be dear.

ITALIAN LITERATURE S9

If in my punishment condign
The pleasure should not be removed
Of boasting that my heart is thine,
Death will not bring a fear."

It was thus that Metastasio "breathed into
the skeleton of the mechanical drama the grace
and animation of a joyous and harmonious
life." The very situations, sentiments and
ideals of these Plays are in keeping with the
Christian faith. No w^onder, then, that the Ita-
lians surpassed all other nations in supplying
the world with a noble, dignified, enjoyable
form of recreation, — a need second only to that
of religion itself. Though there has been a great
decline in the ethical teachings of the Opera
since the days of Metastasio, w^e have in him a
model to which we can recur.

THE NATIONAL COMEDY.

So contradictory are the statements of cri-
tics of Italian Comedy, that it is a long time
before we can make up our minds about it. The
truth of the matter seems to be that it was
rather too rich in quantity, but very poor in
quality. One historian enumerates more than
1,000 comedies composed in Italian in the 16th
century, and Ricoboni assures us that betw^een
the periods 1500 and 1736 more than 5,000
w^ere printed. And, indeed, looking carefully into
this History we shall find that almost every
Italian vsrriter dabbled in Comedy. Cardinal
Bibbiena, the grave Nardi and the cynical Mac-
chiavelli wrote Comedies, and Titian painted
the stage scenery for them, so fully estab-
lished w^as this species of amusement as a part
of the people's life. But it was not until Carlo
Goldoni took his pen in hand in the middle of
the 18th century that anything of this kind in
the Italian language could be named with
works of Moli^re and Shakespeare.

Glodoni found the Italian theatre divided

ITALIAN LITERATURE 91

between two classes of dramatic composition.
These were the classical comedies and the com-
edies of art. The former were intended to be
read. The latter were the same w^e have already
mentioned as existing in the days of Pietro Are-
tino. These sketchy, impromptu performances
were derided by the Italians, while at the same
time they w^ere delighted in, because they were
the only dramatic pieces in which there w^as
anything at all natural. Now Goldoni deter-
mined to retain the essence of these popular
productions while he changed the form. He
wrote out every word that the actors were to
say and insisted that they should use his words,
but he did not wholly renounce the masks so
well known, and his art consisted in giving
each actor the appearance of playing his part
as an improvvisatore.

This is so intensely Italian that a foreigner
is somewhat staggered by the statement. But
this is nothing to be compared to the difficulty
of understanding the complications produced
by the manners of the stage as it exists every-
where and the manners of the Italian people as
they prevailed at this period. In all ages and
countries the theatre has exhibited the triumph
of virtue and the consequent overthrow of vice.
But the social life of the Italians of the 18th
century exhibited just the reverse of this. Their

92 HISTORY OF

ideas of love and marriage were grotesque, or,
rather, revolting. Their women were allowed
no freedom until after marriage, and an estab-
lished custom was that of having cicisbei, or ca-
valieri serventi, in each household, or roaming
at large to the peril of society's existence. Of
course, even the genius of a Goldoni could do
nothing with this cicisbeism. The corrupter of
morals had to figure on the stage, but it w^as as
a veritable fool, and none but the native-born
could know^ the cause of his appearance.

"The Twins of Venice" (from Plautus); "The
Weakheaded Lady"; "Harlequin the Valet of
Two Masters"; "The Obedient Daughter"; "The
Landlady"; "The Jealous Miser"; "The Rage
forFStesChampStres"; "L'Incognita" (in which
figure the banditti employed by the gentlemen
of Italy to avenge their quarrels) are some ot
the comedies of "il gran Goldoni." But in the
"National Library" only seven out of the 150
plays are preserved. Let us examine these for
ourselves.

"A Curious Accident" is a thoroughly mo-
dern Play, a pretty, innocent little parlor Co-
medy. The young girl, Giannina, is desperately
in love with a French officer, M. De la Cotterie.
The officer is timid in love, and fearing that
Giannina's father. Signer Filiberto, will never
approve of a poor military man, who, though

ITALIAN LITERATURE 93

noble, is "a younger son", determines ruthlessly
to leave this hospitable Dutch home, in which
he has been recuperating from a wound. To
prevent this, Giannina persuades him to assist
her in deceiving her father, and they pretend
that Cotterie is in love with Madamigella Co-
stanza, the daughter of a rich financier named
Riccardo, the rival of Filiberto, in social ambi-
tion. Filiberto really likes the lieutenant and
w^ants to humble Riccardo, as he envies his
wealth, and therefore he bends all his energies
to bring about the marriage of Cotterie and
Costanza, advising the former to marry the
girl without the consent of her father and even
going so far as to give him the money to take
his bride to France. Thus he, himself, justifies
the secret marriage of his own daughter and
provides the means to effect it. Of course, there
is a complety reconciliation at the end, and the
moral is the value of candor in the family.

"Terence' ' - a subject not only happily chosen,
but w^orthily treated — is a drama in five acts
written in rhymed couplets. Goldoni realized
that he had a great opportunity when he un-
dertook the delineation of the great Carthage-
nian slave, w^ho became one of the glories of
Roman Literature and immortalized himself in
the saying: "I am a man, and I deem nothing
human foreign to me."

94 HISTORY OF

This essential manliness in the drama under
consideration is tested by love. Livia, the
adopted daughter of the Senator Lucan, does
not hesitate to show that she loves Terence,
and every earthly glory and honor is his if he
will but bring himself to woo her. But he has
long loved Livia's maid, the Greek slave Creusa,
and through all vicissitudes and temptations
he proves himself strong enough to be true to
his real feelings. He prefers perpetual slavery
with love to the hollow mockery of roman citi-
zenship and heartlessness.

"Strong souls despise the game of fortune",
he declares.

Terence's nobility is well contrasted with
the vileness of Damone, another African slave,
who gives the comic features to the play by his
envy and baseness. The client and adulator,
Lisca, advises Damone to outrival Terence by
writing a Play of w^hich Plautus shall be the
subject. But as Damone does not know^ who
Plautus was, he is involved in inextricable ab-
surdities. Livia's consciousness of her narrow
destiny — that of the haughty, w^ealthy, patri-
cian woman — makes her break out in bitter
wails.

" It is a Eoman's glory to be unhappy."

Lucan sets Terence free and gives him Creu-
sa in frank acknowledgment that he has been

ITALIAN LITERATURE 95

"weighed in the balances and not found w^ant-
ing."

" Chioggian Squabbles" is one of those well
known Venetian dialect comedies for which Gol-
doni was so famous. One feels that she has
achieved wonders who steers her way through
this barbarous patois. The characters of this
Play are of the humblest rank, engaged in fish-
ing and selling fish for a livelihood, and there is
an undoubted charm in the naturalness of their
every thought and action. No dreams of future
grandeur ever disturb their peace. Their excite"
ments turn upon the most trivial incidents,
and also, it must be confessed, upon the fun-
damental realities of life. There are three young
girls and three unmarried men, and two married
couples related to some of the young people and
deeply interested in getting them married. A
quarrel originating in jealousy and misunder.
standing.b&fcweea.tjzto of the lovers involves all
of these people in trouble. The fun erf the Play
consists largely in the fact that they are not
content to say a thing once, but invariably re-
peat a part of every sentence. They are all
brought before the magistrate, and it is then
that the shading of character is so wonderfully
managed. One of the older w^omen, rather than
answer the magistrate's questions, affects deaf-
ness, and this throws everything into a state of

96 HISTORy OF

"wild confusion, and order is only brought about
by the real goodness of the kind-hearted official,
■who discovers the lovers, brings the right per-
sons together, and performs the marriage cere-
mony.

"The CaE^' is a representation of the dissi-
pated life of a higher class of Venetians. The
play is cleverly managed -without unity of
action and devoid of a protagonist. As a reve-
lation of the lawlessness of the Venetian Car-
nival and the voluptuousness of vice, it hardly
comes within the scope of literary criticism.
The character w^ho will be oftenest w^anted on
the stage is Don Marzio, the Fault-finder, and
an idea of this laughable impersonation may be
gained from Act. II, S. XVI, which is as follows:

DON. M. "Let us sit down. What news is
there in the affairs of the world"?

LEANDRO. "I do not care anything for
news."

DON. M. "You are aware that the Musco-
vite troops have gone into winter quarters?

L. They have done well; the season de-
mands it.

DON. M. Signor, no, they have done badly;
they should not abandon the post they have oc-
cupied.

L. That is true. They ought to suffer the
cold in order to keep what they have acquired.

ITALIAN LITERATURE 97

DON. M. Signer, no, they should not risk
remaining there, -with the peril of dying in the
ice.

L. Then they ought to go further.

DON. M. Signer, no. Oh, -what fine under-
standing of war! March in the winter season!

L. Then what ought they to do?

DON. M. Let me see a geographical map,
and then I will tell you exactly w^here they
ought to go.

L. (Oh, what nonsense!)

DON. M. Have you been to the Opera?

L. Signor, yes.

DON. M. Does it please you?

L. Very much.

DON. M. You have bad taste.

L. Patience.

DON. M. Of what country are you?

L. Of Turin.

DON. M. Ugly city.

L. On the contrary, it passes for one of the
most beautiful in Italy.

DON. M. I am a Neapolitan. See Naples
and then die.

L. I could give you the reply of a Venetian.

DON. M. Have you any tobacco?

L. Here is some.

DON. M. Oh, what bad tobacco!

L. I like it so.

98 HISTORY OF

DON. M. You do not understand the sub-
ject. The right tobacco is rappee.

L. I like Spanish tobacco.

DON. M. Spanish tobacco is a mass of filth.

L. And I say it is the best that one can
use.

DON. M. How! Do you mean to instruct
me what tobacco is? I make it, I have it made,
I buy it here, I buy it there. I know w^hat this
is. I know^ w^hat that is. Rapp&, rappde, it
must be rappee.

L. "Signor, yes, rappee, it is true: the best
tobacco is the rapp&."

DON. M. "Signor, no. The best tobacco is
not always rapp&. It is necessary to distin-
guish; you do not know^ what you are saying."

According to our way of thinking "The
Landlady" is not what we should expect from
the title, as this personage is a beautiful and
unprotected young girl. A Marquis, a Count
and a Cavalier are lodging with her, and while
all are ridiculous, it is the cavalier who, as a
w^oman-hater, is the special object of mirth. We
are often reminded of "Much Ado about Noth-
ing" in this Play; but though Mirandolina, the
heroine, makes a complete conquest of the Ca-
valier, she gaily throws him overboard and
marries an humble serving-man in her emplciy.
In conquering the Cavalier she feigns a deep

ITALIAN LITERATURE 99

and lively interest in him, and this, of course,
gives scope for that double art of acting of
which the Italians \yere so fond. Two come-
dians also arrive at the boarding-house and
complicate matters by acting the part of fine
ladies, and this, too, evidently passes for clever
improvisation.

"The Surly Philanthropist" is considered
Goldoni's masterpiece; but chiefly on the ground
that Voltaire said it revived the taste for
comedy in the country of Moliere. Originally
written in French, this short, bright play is, in-
deed, very Frenchy, but it reminds us rather of
Sue and Feuillet than of MoUere. As the title
indicates, the art of this Comedy consists in
portraying a character full of contradictions.
The surly philanthropist is cross and kind, nig-
gardly and benevolent, stern and loving. The
prodigality of his nephew and the contrariness
of his niece in love and marriage serve to bring
out all of these opposing traits. And w^hereas
everybody had been afraid to go near him, the
closing scene shows him surrounded on all sides
and loaded w^ith caresses.

It is, then, only in the last Play- "I Ru-
steghi" - "The Boors" - (again in the lively Ve-
netian dialect) that Goldoni suggests Moliere
and astonishes us not only by a comic force
that is exquisite, but by a masterly exhibition

100 HISTORY OF

of Comedy as a moral teacher, a corrector of
manners and a chastiser of vice. He puts four
men on the stage all inflated -with a despicable
petty tyranny - and instead of contrasting
them, he simply shades the one type so that it
is at once recognizable, but indefinable. Lunar-
do has a grow^n daughter, Lucieta, and has
married the second time, and he exercises an in-
tolerable despotism towards those two unhap-
py women, the stepmother taking her unhappi-
ness out on the girl and growing more spiteful
tow^ards her every moment. These are all trades-
people and Lunardo enters into an agreement
w^ith his friend Maurizio to marry his daughter,
Lucieta to Maurizio's son, Filipeto. The young
people have never seen each other, and the ex-
ercise of this domestic tyranny fills their elders
w^ith a malicious ecstacy. But Filipeto tells his
Aunt, Marina, of the hint that has been given
him, and she easily interests a very intellectual,
high spirited woman named Felice in the matter.
The signora Felice has a cavalier servente, but
moves him around on her chess board to some
purpose. She gets the cavalier to come with Fi-
lipeto, masked as w^omen (in the Carnival)
to Lucieta's house. The elect couple see and like
each other, for Felice compels Filipeto to un-
mask by handing him tobacco. As all have been
invited to dine at Lunardo's (to spring the

ITALIAN LITERATURE 101

marriage on them) the men now walk in on the
women and there is a scene indeed. The vitu-
peration is decidedly animated. The women are
all driven away, but Felice returns and by the
fine force of her reason, wit and innate noble-
ness subjugates and shames the boors into si-
lence and acquiescence in her plans. The huge
joke on the clowns is that they have signed the
marriage contract. Hence they are completely
outwitted.

Such was the comedy of real life when Count
Carlo Gozzi determined to arrest its progress
and supplied a celebrated company of maskers
with "The Three Oranges". He was present
himself at its performance and was surprised at
the effect of the supernatural elements upon the
audience. It was this that induced him to give
himself up to the writing of those fairy dramas
w^hich are so much admired by the Germans.
"The Lady Serpent"; "Zobeide"; "The Blue
Monster"; "The Green Bird"; "The King of the
Genii"; "The Raven" were the titles of these
fantastic creations. Of course they were not
literary productions, and it is very difficult now
to get hold of any of Gozzi's Plays. The only
onelhave seen is the famous farce, "Turandot."

With an utter disregard for history and geo-
graphy, the scene of this Comedy is laid in
Pekin. Altoum is the Emperor of China, and

102 HISTORY OF

Turandot is his daughter and heir. In spite
also of the fact that Princes of Tartary, Astra-
can and Samarcand take part, -we are confront-
ed -with the well-known masks, Pantaleone, fi-
guring as the secretary of Altoum; Tartaglia,
high Chancellor; Brighella, master of the pages;
and Truffaldino, overseer of Turandot's slaves.
The Princess Turandot, being wilfully, bitterly
and capriciously opposed to matrimony, has
thrown the w^hole empire into a state of excite*-
ment by propounding the most obscure and
terrifying riddles, declaring that she will only
give her hand to the man who is bright enough
to guess them. The penalty of attempting to
guess and failing is immediate execution. The
riddles are ingenious and have reference to the
glory of Venice, since Gozzi's Comedies were
never played out of Venice and crowds flocked
there to see them. Among the aspirants for the
hand of Turandot is a stranger, and this exile
from a ruined land is in search of his father.
Having his own plans to pursue, they prove a
counter-plot to those of Turandot, and invin-
cible courage, manliness and love at last over-
come the hostility of the proud girl.

It cannot be denied that Gozzi displays the
qualities of a poet and a man of wit in this
brilliant invention. But it is evident that while

ITALIAN LITERATURE 103

Goldoni reformed the people in amusing them,
Gozzi laughed at, rather than with, them.

In addition to their value as contributions
to dramatic literature, these Plays enable us to
understand that gay, sweet, gentle, ingenuous
Venetian people, w^ho lived happily under their
proud patriciate and cherished so long the il-
lusion of a Republic.

^>^^

ALFIERI'S GALLERY OF GRIEF.

Sustaining the Dantesque dignity of the Ita-
lian intellect, Alfieri ranks with Eschylus, Dante,
Shakespeare, Calvin and Pascal in his power to
contemplate the darkest aspects of man's des-
tiny.

Unsullied by a single coarse suggestion, the
twenty two tragedies of Alfieri must be studied
long and faithfully in order to obtain a true im-
pression of their value. They constitute a gallery
of grief, lighted only by the melancholy of a
divine genius. There is mighty "Saul", lost in
impenetrable gloom, crazed by remorse. There
is "Sophonisba", tenderly loved by Syphax and
Massinissa and sublimely determined to sacri-
fice her life rather than grace Scipio's triumph,
impede the cause of Massinissa, or underrate
the magnanimity of Syphax. The dreadful agi-
tations of the hapless "Marie Stuart"; the
pathological passion of Mirra"; the blood-mad-
ness of "Philip II" and the helplessness of his
victims, Don Carlos and Isabella; the fatal in
nocence of "Don Garzia" have been sculptured
in words by the hand of Alfieri.

ITALIAN LITERATURE 105

"The Conspiracy of the Pazzi" is a deeper
plunge into the strife -with tyrants, and the jus-
tification of this attempt on the lives of the
Medici (April 26th, 1478) was a home-thrust
that was w^holly new^ to the Italians. Hence
these apothegms of force and beauty :

" Deep vengeance Is the daughter of deep silence."

"To extirpate those seeds
Of liberty, ingrained by Nature in all hearts,
Not only years, but arts, devices must be used."

" By slaves the tyrant only.
Not the tyranny, is feared."

But it is in "Agide", "Bruto Primo", and
"Bruto Secondo" that Alfieri appears as the
bard of freedom, and w^hoever has heard of him
at all has heard of him in this capacity. For
myself, after years of longing to break these
mystic seals, I experienced no disappointment
in the majesty and grandeur of their revela-
tions. In "Agide" we are made to see that the
King w^ho is the real saviour of his country,
maligned, misunderstood and rejected, can save
them in no other way than by the sacrifice of
his own life. Well known as are the stories of
the two Brutuses, Alfieri gives them new life, in
the "Primo" lacerating the heart with the
struggle between liberty and parental love; and
in the "Secondo" proving that this same thirst

106 HISTORY OP

*

for freedom can annihilate the sense of filial
obligation.

The statement so often made, that to read
one of Alfieri's Plays is to read all, is contra-
dicted by his "Merope", in which the happy
termination of the mother's recovery of her lost
son is most refreshing.

In "Timoleon" Alfieri follows Plutarch so
closely that the difference is only that of lan-
guage.

"Antony and Cleopatra" sets forth the sin-
cerity andw^ounded pride of Antony; the treach-
ery and selfishness of Cleopatra. "Virginia"
emphasizes the priceless value of chaste love;
and in "Ottavia" both the dethroned empress
and the great stoic, Seneca, appeal to a life
beyond the grave to right their w^rongs.

In "Rosmunda" we have preserved an epi-
sode from the History of the Lombards. But
this treatment of the personality of the most
passionately vindictive woman History has
handed down to us is little short of revolting.

The Play of "Abel" is styled by Alfieri a
Tramelogedia, a species of musical drama which
he deemed it expedient to invent in order to
turn the people from their passion for the Opera
and prepare them for true Tragedy. It is very
beautiful, and like the "Adam" of Andreini deals
with Sin, Envy, Death as characters. Envy is

ITALIAN LITERATURE 107

the instigator of Cain's murder of Abel, and
though the human side only of the story is
given, there is something awe-inspiring in this
account of the first death on earth. The grief of
Adam and Eve vividly recalls the beautiful
treatment of this subject in Italian paintings,
and the tramelogedia is also effective in its mu-
sical affinities.

It is in his Greek Plays that our poet is most
intensely Alfierian. We must read the "Aga.
memnon" and the "Choephori" of Eschylus and
then the "Agamemnon" and the "Orestes" of
Alfieri to enjoy the humanization of the fables,
and the faultless precision of a modern tongue.
In"Polinices" and "Antigone" we have to com-
pare Alfieri w^ith the great Sophocles, and in
" Alcestis the Second " (w^here he avowedly de-
parts from the classic model) with the mild
Euripides. No ancient writer could have so de-
picted the honest self-respect of Polinces, or the
perfidy of Eteocles; the unquenchable love An-
tigone cherished for the dead, or the sublime
self-sacrifice of the sweet Alcestis. We seem to
see as in a flash of lightning the w^hole sweep of
the subjective modern world.

But it is Alfieri's crow^ning glory that he
could take these ancient themes of worn-out
civilizations and rouse Italy to a sense of natio-
nality by simply infusing the well-known stories

108 HISTORY OF

with his own ideals of liberty and lite. We hear
constantly, "Be greater than thy sex": "Be
stronger than thy destiny": "Be firmer than
thy fate", ring through these mighty w^ar cries.
" Fear only is true death to the brave ". "This
day is sacred to blood, not tears." Saul is told
that he is "only crowned dust." "I, as a Spar-
tan wish to be King of Spartans", says Agide
to Leonidas; "You reign in Sparta as a Per-
sian." "Thou seest me lord of myself, and not
of Rome, O Titus", exclaims Bruto Primo.
"Who cares for gold, when he has a sword at
his side and at his breast the shield of liberty?"
"O dreadful throne, w^hat art thou but an an-
cient injustice, tolerated w^ith suffering, and still
more w^ith abhorence"? asks Jocasta.

The Dedications of the Tragedies deserve
our notice. By far the most beautiful is that of
the "FirstBrutus" to Washington. The"Second
Brutus" is dedicated with a pathos scarcely less
striking to the Italians of the Future. "Saul "
is inscribed with the name of the Abate di Calu-
so, who first stirred the slumbering sparks of
Alfieri's genius. "Agide" is linked with the
Majesty of Charles I, King of England. "Mirra"
and " Alcestis the Second " open w^ith Sonnets
to Luisa Stolberg. "Antigone" is offered to the
Signer Gandellini w^hen living, and the "Con-
giura de' Pazzi" to his shade, w^hen dead. And,

ITALIAN LITERATURE 109

finally, "Merope", w^ith a lovely tenderness and
filial reverence is consecrated to Monica Turnon
Alfieri, the poet's much-loved mother.

Through scenes of blood, with imaginations
filled with violence and horror we wend our
way w^ith Alfieri. Yet the most prominent fea-
ture of these 22 tragedies and one never yet
pointed out by any critic is the reality and sa-
credness of the domestic affections. Such august
conceptions of the dignity of human life, such
inflexible standards of rectitude, such an open
endorsement of the "straight and narrow way"
will forever render it impossible that Alfieri
should be popular. And we hear his own voice
in the harangue of the Roman Icilius, when
he says :

" To the few, to the free and to the strong, I speak."

1750-1825.

CHAPTER VIII.
The Revolutionists.

While in the "lives" of Parini and Alfieri we
have merely touched upon the French Revo-
lution, and whereas with History as such we
are not concerned, in coming to the brilliant,
but checquered, life of Vinceazo Monti ( 1754-
1828) w^e are compelled to occupy ourselves
vsrith this great movement.

Monti, the last poet of the past, w^ho was
know^n throughout his w^hole career as the first
of living poets, w^as born near Fusignano, and
educated in Faenza and Ferrara. The fatality
of his whole life may be traced to the fact that
he attained brilliant success in his first literary
attempt. This was in praise of a preacher and
entitled "The Vision of Ezekiel." Cardinal Bor-
ghese, the papal legate at Ferrara, was so
pleased with it that he took Monti with him to
Rome, and without any effort on his own part,
the young man's fortune seemed made. He be-

ITALIAN LITERATURE 111

came secretary of the Pope's nephew, Prince
Luigi Braschi, and read his poem on "The
Beauty of the Universe" in the "Bosco Par-
rasio" of the Arcadians. And when his tragedy
" Aristodemus " was represented, a species of
fanaticism raged throughout Rome. Monti's
house was inundated by people who seemed be-
side themselves with delight.

It w^as about this time that he married the
beautiful and accomplished Teresa Pichler, the
daughter of a gem engraver, "in whom the
spirit of ancient art seemed to have revived for
modern times." This marriage proved to be one
of ideal happiness; the loveliness of the perfect
w^ifeand her rare proficiency as a musician being
a continual solace to the excitable poet.

In the " Ode to Montgolfier " Monti again
poured forth "torrents of harmony", and, now^
on the top- wave of success, turned his attention
to political events. Just at this time Ugo Bass-
ville, the French legate at Naples, dared to ap-
pear in Rome and display the tri-color of the
Republic. The indignant people, in a frenzy of
fear and hatred, rose up in arms and killed him
in the corso. On this tragic and deplorable
event Monti wrote his great Poem, "The Bass-
villiana", on which his fame still chiefly rests.
He feigns that the assassinated man, in dying,
"turns his heart to Him who sends down here

112 HISTORY OF

His pardon with the swiftness of our sighs";
and who "folds him in His mercy, but in His
adamantine decree has w^ritten that Bassville
shall not ascend to the embrace of God until he
has seen the infinite woes of France, and the
arrows of the bow of God let loose on it." This
sublime conception enables the poet to depict
the w^oes of France, the Reign of Terror, the ex-
ecution of Louis XVI and his entrance into Pa-
radise.

But the events of the Revolution preceded
so differently from what Monti expected, and
such bitter enmity broke forth towards the poet
who had proclaimed himself the friend of kings
and priests, that Monti was compelled to leave
Rome. He came to Milan, now^ the acknowl-
edged intellectual centre of Italy, the capital of
the cis-alpine Republic and the focus of political
ferment.

Here he published a canzone commemorating

the execution of Louis XVI, and completely

changing his politics, wrote :

"Fall'n is the tyrant! rise once more
People oppress'd ; all Nature breathes.
And you, proud Kings, your crimes deplore,
The mightiest throne is in the dust.
Heav'n heard vile Capet's peri ury
And, outraged, hurled him from his seat.
Tinge deep your finger in that dye
O France, set free from galling chains.
It is the blood drawn from the veins
Of thy own sons, erewhile betrayed.

ITALIAN LITERATURE 113

Te citizens who fly to arms,

In this blood bathe th' avenging sword.

For victory shuns base alarms,

And proudly strikes down him who reigns."

This as a matter-of-course roused new ene-
mies for Monti, and he was accused of every
kind of baseness. Reduced to poverty and even
positive destitution, he took refuge now in Pa-
ris. There among the exiles he met and ap-
preciated Lorenzo Mascheroni, a gentle poet
and valiant mathematician. When he died in
exile, Monti wrote "La Mascheroniana", which,
though less polished than the "Bassvilliana",
contains some magnificent lines on Liberty.

On returning to Italy Monti saluted it with

lines w^hich touched a tender spot in the hearts

of the many patriots who had eaten the bread

of exile :

"Beautiful Italy, land of my heart,

Do T in verity see thee once more !

Trembling, confounded, my soul overwrought.

Swoons at the pleasure thou holdest in store.

For 'twas thy loveliness, that but of tears

Fountain continually proved unto thee,

Brought thee base lovers for so many years,

Holding thee fast in their vile tyranny.

Ah ! but deceptive, false still, -- forever,

Are the vain hopes that o'er Kings have their sway.

No : cry aloud, nature's garden can never

To the barbarians be meant for a prey,"

And yet the next step in Monti's career was
a complete forgetfulness of Italy and an adu-
lation of Napoleon that was almost sickening.

U4 HISTORY OF

He poured forth pcem after poem for the cele-
bration of every event in the conqueror's life.
"The Political Palingenesis" was written for
Joseph Bonaparte's enthronement in Spain; the
"Jerogamia of Crete" for Napoleon's second
marriage; the "Panacridian Bees" for the birth
of the King of Rome. The "Bard of the Black
Forest" and the "Sword of Frederick II " ex-
torted praise by taking on the intonation of
Ossian and delighting the Italians with fresh
revelations of the music of their speech.

Monti was richly rewarded for all this adu-
lation, receiving a splendid stipend as court-poet
and many medals and titles testifying to his
glory. He knew, however, that he was not re-
spected by the best men of his country, and he
could not have supported his rSle if it had not
been for his lovely wife and an equally charming
daughter, herself a poetess and now the wife of
the accomplished Count Giulio Perticari. Some
of Monti's most beautiful verses are addressed
to his w^ife, as when he says :

"Extend, my dearest love, my own sweet wife,

Thy hand towards the harp, which seems to crave

Thy skilful fingers to draw forth its life.

Wake once again for me the dulcet wave

Of harmony in those sonorous depths.

And tune this heart of mine and make it brave."

Some of Costanza Monti's poems are pub-
lished with her father's, and nothing can ex-

ITALIAN LITERATURE 115

ceed the tenderness of his Sonnets to her. The
greater portion of Monti's " Aristodemus " is
also, strange to say, an exquisite delineation of
filial and parental love. Count Perticari was
very intimate with Canova, and Costanza Mon-
ti furnished the sculptor with a model for his
ideal heads.

Pope had given England a metrical transla-
tion of Homer and Mme. Dacier had delighted
France with her vigorous rendering of the Iliad,
and, in spite of Cesarotti'sandFoscolo's efforts,
Italy still remained w^ithout a popular version
of the great epic. It was Foscolo who incited
Monti to undertake this task, and never were
his gifts more indisputably demonstrated than
by this splendid translation. For knowing
little more of Greek than the alphabet, Monti
succeeded as a poet in pleasing all classes of so-
ciety with his interpretation of Homer, 1) and
for once his fierce cavilers w^ere silenced.

1) On Lamberti, who published the magnificent Bo-
donian edition of Homer, this epigram was made :
What is Lamberti doing.
That very learned man?

— He is publishing a Homer
On a most laborious plan.

— Does he comment? ~ No, oh no.

— Translate? ~ Ah, bah ! how slow.

— Then pray what does he do?

— Why me proofs he must review,
Every month a folio's due.

Ten years, perhaps, will see it through
If Bodoni can live on too.

— What endless labor, I declare !

— The government pays well, so there" !

116 HISTORY OF

But in 1815 Italy was once more handed
over to the Austrians and again Monti broke
forth in "The Mystic Homage", the "Return of
Astrea", the "Invitation to Pallas", in praise of
Francis Augustus, as "the wise, the just, the
best of Kings." The blunt German did not
hesitate, however, to speak with contempt of
Monti and to deprive him of his posts.

And now at last free from politics, Monti
girded himself to the task of publishing "Pro-
posed Corrections and Additions to the Voca-
bulary of the Crusca." He was aided by his
son-in-law^. Count Perticari, and in spite of bit-
ter altercations with the Cruscans, their work
was ultimately pronounced victorious.

Monti had commenced "The Feroniade" in
honor of Pius VI, the drainer of the Pontine
marshes, w^here the goddess Feronia had been
worshipped, and after dragging the poem in as
many directions as there appeared a maecenas,
he ended by directing it to the Marchesa Tri-
vulzio. It is to be remembered for its exquisite
classicism, and, with the Bassvilliana, gives the
clue to the characterization of Monti as the last
poet of the past.

After a stroke of paralysis, which made an
invalid of the poet for many months, Monti ex-
pired October 13th, 1828, in the arms of his de-
voted wife and his widowed daughter.

ITALIAN LITERATURE 117

The patriotic poets who arose in Italy in
the 19th century and effected the most brilliant
political revolution of modem times have ex-
cited the admiration of the world. In this illu-
strious band Monti cannot be grouped. This
accounts for the unsympathetic study Howells
has made of Monti, He misunderstands the
poet's position. That Monti loved Italy no one
can doubt. That he improvised, as it were,
upon every theme that the times presented to
him also accounts for his seeming baseness. But
when w^e say that Monti Avas above all an ar-
tist, loving Art first, last and always, we see
how completely he stands aloof from those who
loved the people and toiled to redress their
wrongs. He had no real object to accomplish
by his verses, and while it is impossible to deny
their loveliness, we do not enthrone their author
in our hearts, or long to win for him the ho-
mage of posterity.

Ippolito Pindemonte of Verona (1753-1828)
w^as one of the most indefatigable writers, one
of the best poets and one of the most lovable
men of this period. He had a genius for friend-
ship and was on the pleasantest terms with all
the great men of the age, from Parini and Alfieri
to Foscolo. Having traveled extensively and
spent some time in England, Pindemonte became
a frank imitator of the English poets and

118 HISTORY OF

especially of Gray. Many lyrics, essays, dramas
and novels came from his pen, but his greatest
achievements are his excellent Translation of
the Odyssey and his noble tragedy of "Armi-
nius." This last, being the glorification of a
defender of national independence, was full of
personal application for Italy, and places its
author in the noble army of the liberators.

Far in advance of both Monti and Pinde-
monte w^as TJgo Foscolo, born of a Greek mo-
ther and an Italian father in Zante in 1778.
Taken to Venice at the age of 15, Foscolo began
to study with a fervor that imperilled his life,
being inspired by the aspect of the ancient city,
as well as by the encouragement of Cesarotti.
At the age of 19, his tragedy, "Thyestes", full
of faith in French liberty, obtained a signal
triumph at the Venetian theatre, and his own
noble soul inspired him to write an Ode to Bo-
naparte the Liberator, Avhile the traitor w^as
selling Venice to the Austrians.

And then, as a friend of both Parini and
Monti, he began at once with generous courage
to defend the latter in an "Examination of the
charges brought against Vincenzo Monti." De-
tractors said it was Teresa Pichler whom
Foscolo admired, and his love for Monti was
called "fantastic"; but neither this, nor vicious
companions and his own weaknesses, prevented

ITALIAN LITERATURE 119

him from studyin^^iDravely, and writing on be-
half of his poor country the "Discourse on Italy."
When war was declared between France and
the little satellite republics on the one hand and
the pow^ers of the Second League on the other,
Foscolo fought, was wounded, made prisoner,
and, later, participated under Massena in the
splendid defence of Genoa. It was at this time
that he w^rote the celebrated Ode to the lovely
Luigia Pallavicini on being thrown from her
horse.

The vicissitudes of war turned Foscolo's
steps to Florence, and there he knew Alfieri, Ni-
colini, and the beautiful Eleonora Nencini.

In 1803 Foscolo published the "Letters of
JacopoOrtis",a romance in the style of Goethe's
"Werther" and Chateaubriand's "Ren^", which
at once made him famous; a collection of superb
Sonnets, and an " Ode to a Friend Restored to
Health", the friend being no less a personage
than the Countess Arese. Being accused of le-
vity in his studies, Foscolo vindicated himself in
an arch-erudite Commentary on the Poem of
Callimachus entitled "The Hair of Berenice".

While encamping at Boulogne for Bona-
parte's invasion of Great Britain, Foscolo
learned English and commenced the translation
of Sterne's "Sentimental Journey." His life here
reminds us of that of a woman, writing being

120 HISTORY OF

necessarily an avocation to one so hardly press-
ed by fate and fortune. For political and lite-
rary enemies, envious of his conspicuousness,
if not of his real fame and greatness continually
beset Foscolo's pathw^ay, and, sad to relate,
Monti was not brave enough to take the part
of his own valiant defender.

The w^retched poet, driven by poverty to
gambling and often associating with unworthy
companions, nevertheless consoled himself with
his genius, and in the intervals allotted him
edited the w^orks of RaimondoMontecuccoli 1),
translated a part of the Iliad and wrote his im-
mortal poem, "The Sepulchres" 2). For a brief
period he held the professorship of Eloquence in
the University of Pavia, and soon after we find
him delightfully ensconced in the family of Count
Giovio on the Lake of Como. But from this
charming home Foscolo was compelled to with-
draw suddenly, as the Count's eldest daughter,
Francesca, fell desperately in lovew^ith the poet,
and he was too poor to think of marrying her.

Passing over many w^ritings, both of a poe-
tical and political nature, and many friendships
with distinguished women (among others the
Countess of Albany), we must remember that
Foscolo lived awhile at Bellosguardo — near

1) See page 21.

2) This was not published until after his death.

ITALIAN LITERATDKE 121

Galileo's prison home -and there completed the
"Viaggio Sentimentale", and Asrorked on his se.
cond great lyric, "The Graces" 1). He had la-
bored all his life for Italian independence, and
■when at last in 1814, there was no more hope
of it, he made his way to England, to live as
an exile through the bitter years to come.

Of course, the English, -vnth their strong
Italian predilections, gave Foscolo a warm wel-
come. Lady Dacre (the celebrated translator of
Petrarch), Hudson Gurney (a member of the fa-
mily of philanthropists) and others proved to
be devoted friends. Foscolo's critical essays on
Dante, Petrarch and Tasso received the admi-
ration they so richly deserved. But the restless
spirit of the fiery Italian could not brook the
apathy of England in continental politics. New-
political quarrels, fresh troubles with editors,
debts and illnesses broke down the constitution
once so vigorous. Foscolo expired on the 10th
of October, 1827, and w^as buried by his friend
Hudson Gurney at Chiswick. The transference
of his ashes to Santa Croce was a matter of
course, and a visit to the grave of one who sung
so sublimely of the "Sepulchres" will henceforth
constitute one of the chief features of a tour
through that venerable pile.

1) Left in an unfinished condition and published
after his death.

122 HISTORY OF

Inferior in sentiment and style to his broth-
er, Giovanni Pindemonte boldly and openly as-
serted the supremacy of national themes for
dramatic treatment, and led the way himself
with such spectacular productions as the "Bac-
canali di Roma"; "Mastin della Scala"; "Gine-
vra of Scotland" 1), &c. The suggestion itself
was a stroke of genius. It was carried out by
Manzoni in the "Count of Carmagnola", and
"Adelchi"; by Silvio Pellico in "Francesca da
Rimini", and culminated in the form of tragedy
in Niccolini's "Arnaldo da Brescia". While, on
the other hand, a new school of librettists gave
the world the Operas of "Belisario", "I Lom-
bard!", "I Vespri Sicilian!", "II Trovatore",
"Beatrice di Tenda" 2) and "Masaniello.

Eminent among the prose-writers of this
period was the historian. Carlo Botta, As
Physician of the army of the Alps Botta follow-
ed the French to the Ionian Islands; and, re-
turning to Paris, experienced the vicissitudes
decreed by change of Government, twice suffering

1) The Ginevra is taken from an episode in the "Or-
lando Furioso".

2) The epoch of this history is 1418, and though a
domestic, rather than a national, episode, as the mar-
riage of Beatrice de' Lascari, Countess of Tenda, estab-
lished the power and greatness of Pilippo Maria Visconti,
who then reigned over all Lombardy and part of Pied-
mont, it was an event of vast importance.

ITALIAN LITERATURE 123

the direst poverty. His "Natural and Medical
History of the Island of Corfu", and his great
"History of the War of American Independence"
had both been published, and had brought him
fame, and yet he was so poorly paid that he
was compelled to sell 600 copies of his "Ameri-
can Independence" as waste paper to a druggist,
in order to obtain the necessaries of life.

The "History of Italy from 1789 to 1814"
and the "Continuation of the History of Guic-
ciardini" brought Botta's indefatigable life and
labors to a close in 1837, and established his
reputation as a brilliant, if not always a re-
liable, historian. He has been severely criticised,
but this seems to be due to his personal opi-
nions and living influence, for he was an ardent
advocate of political liberty, but a conservatist
in literature. His "History of the War of Ame-
rican Independence" has long had^a conspicuous
place in our Libraries, for it is a glowing tribute
to the valor and the wisdom of our fathers.

Pietro Giordani of Piacenza, 1774-1848, ar-
rests our attention as the defender of Monti on
the one hand and the diviner of Leopardi on the
other. It is not at all by his works that he is
remembered, for he accomplished little as a wri-
ter. But the struggles of the first 43 years of his
life w^ere so desperate, that he attained a posi-
tion of authority unequalled in his age and one

124 HISTORY OF

not often enjoyed in any age. It was in his wise
use of this authority that he gained true cele-
brity.

At the time of Monti's disgrace Giordani
made a pen portrait of him, "to render testi-
mony of his goodness, not to demonstrate or
exalt his literary merits, being persuaded that
that blessed vein of poetry and prose, that
splendid wealth of images, that infinite variety
of sounds, that ingenious abundance of modes
in so many different materials would be felt by
all." Giordani "did not suppress the proud and
disdainful words by which Monti might be
deemed very different from what hew^as." Monti
said that he desired not to displease the pow-
erful; and "hence he was constrained to turn
his face now to the West and now to the North,
because the game of fortune is insolent and on
its stage actors often change parts." But of
his fickleness, as of his proneness to wrath and
his readiness to be placated, Giordani, for so
many years a participant of his thoughts, did
not think it necessary "to seek or admit other
cause than an excessive timidity, joined with a
torrent\of fantasy, which in Monti overcame
the other parts of the mind and dominated his
life." It seemed to Giordani beyond any doubt
that "Vincenzo Monti always loved and desired
that the true, the good, the useful; courage,

ITALIAN LITERATURE 125

science, prosperity, glory should be the patri-
mony of our Mother Italy."

For his boldness in affairs of a more prac-
tical nature, Giordani was twice exiled and once
imprisoned. But his strong individuality stood
every test, and his reputation as '"a trustworthy
diviner of national talent" brought him the
crowning glory of all his toils and struggles,
when the sensitive young Leopardi sent him his
first poems and tremblingly asked his advice.
Giordani not only wrote Leopardi encouraging
letters, but advised his coming to Rome and
was there to introduce him to men of letters
and "announce him to the world." By the side
of Leopardi's genius Giordani's mediocrity may
seem almost pitiable; but, meditating on its
usefulness, we are compelled to say that

" He who does the best his circumstance allows,
Does well : acts nobly. Angels can do no more."

THEJMODERN GREEK.

If one feels that|he is "a child of earth, bear-
ing with him all the passions and the miseries
of his species", he may enjoy "Jacopo Ortis."
The "Last Letters", however, are much more
than a gush of sentimentality, or a wail over
the conditions of life at the opening of the 19th
Century. They contain a masterly delineation
of the remorseless sacrifice of love to the cold
calculations of avarice and ambition, showing
that Foscolo might have been a great novelist
if he had cared to be. Teresa T. is rich and
noble, Jacopo is^poor and plebeian. Hence her
father does not hesitate to separate them : but
requires his daughter to marry another while
Jacopo still visits^her. It must be confessed that
Teresa does not play an admirable part, and it
is rather hard to see how^ Jacopo could commit
suicide for so unresponsive a heart. But Foscolo
is not to be identified with Ortis. Among his
own Letters the most beautiful is that addressed
to Francesca Giovio, in which he shows himself
the soul of honor, in breaking a mutual attach-

ITALIAN LITEBATDRE 127

ment which he plainly foresaw could only ter-
minate in disaster.

It is with reluctance that we acknow^ledge
a congeniality in the minds of Sterne and Fo-
scolo. Yet, ofcourse the incomparable transla-
tion of the "Sentimental Journey " presupposes
this at the very least. And the idea that the
state of nature is a state of war, Avhich recurs
independently in the two writers, — to say no-
thing of more trifling resemblances — is a strong
indication of this congeniality. It was probably
out of the abundance of his compassion that
Foscolo undertook the translation of "a book
more celebrated than read." Critics have said
his translation surpasses the original, and cer-
tainly it puts the capacities of his own tongue
in a new^ light.

But w^hile Foscolo's genius is apparent in
all that he touches, it is as a poet that he wins
the world's regard. We know^ how modem Italy
had been the direct heir of ancient Greece in
every branch of Art and especially in that de-
light in the ancient mythology as a repertory
of images, sentiments, events, to be used in pro-
ducing pleasure, aw^akening feeling, and arous-
ing interest. The Italian poets up to the time of
Foscolo had thoughtlessly abused this source
of enjoyment. In common parlance Greek My-
thology had been "done to death." Now this

128 HISTORY OF

half-Greek, half-Italian poet, nurtured on those
myths from earliest infancy is able to give them
a new scope. Instead of making modem sen-
timents antique, Foscolo makes the antique,
modern. This, ofcourse, cannot be understood
in a day, and no poetry requires more study
than the Foscolian. The labor with which the
poet has assimilated the ancient world and fus-
ed its elements with his ow^n feeling and with
modem thought demands something more than
intuitive admiration and spontaneous enthu-
siasm.

The Foscolian lyric differs from the Montian
in the compenetration of certain traditional li-
terary elements with the real and fervid sen-
timent of the poet. The Foscolian Ode differs
from the Parinian in both contents and form,
Parini using the well known mythology in the
way of pictorial illustration, while with Fosco-
lo real sentiments assume spontaneously those
plastic forms which his own nature, the order
of his studies and the prejudices of the schools
have made familiar. Ofcourse, we cannot claim
that the Foscolian Ode is superior to the Leor
pardian. But it has this advantage: both poets
idealize Death, but Leopardi regards it only as
"the end of all griefs", while Foscolo "in the
serene regions of Art finds the antinomies of life
resolved into a final harmony and the austere

ITALIAN LITERATURE 129

Image of Death changed into one radiant with
hope."

In substantiation of these conclusions I give
my translation of certain stanzas of the Ode

TO L,UIGIA PAIiliATICIIVI

On being theown while biding hobsebace.

(1) Blessed balsams are prepared
For thee by all the Graces,
Perfumed linens that were shared
With Cytherea at the time

Her foot divine was torn
By a most impious thorn.

(2) Filled was Ida with her cry
That day to be remembered,
Striving with her hair to dry.

She bathed anon with flowing tears,
The bloody breast, in ruth,
Of the loved Cyprian youth. 1)

(3) So the Loves now weep for you.
Among Ligurian goddesses
Queen-goddess thee they view !
Votive wreaths on high they bear,
Where the sounding bow confides
Latona's son abides. 2)

(4) And thee the dance did woo ;
Where, borne on gentlest zephyrs.
Bare fragrance fell like de'fir.
When often by restraints untamed
Thy long hair on thy rosy arm
Checked the swift, graceful form.

1) Adonis.

2) Apollo.

130 HISTORY OF

(5) So bathing in Inachian font, 1)

Which, bearing flowers from heights above.
To o'erflow its banks is wont ;
Pallas her helmet often doffs,
While with one hand she saves
Her loose hair from the waves.

(6) Accents of harmony so sweet
Flew from thy lovely lips,

Thy laughing eyes were truly meet
For Venus to transmit her all —
Her scorn, and then her smiles.
Her kisses, tears and wiles.

(7) Ah ! why hast thou unlearned
Thy gentle ways and docile moods,
To virile studies turned?

Why now for the rude sports of Mars
Dost make the mild Aonian Nine 2)
So sadly for thee pine?

(16) Cynthia's stately golden car
Her binds as usual drew ;
When a wild beast's cry of war
Their reason overthrew ;
From Etnean rock then prone
The goddess made her moan.

(17) With envious joy anon

The Olympic gods broke forth.
They deemed a triumph won
That Cynthia now appeared
Veiled, silent, pallid, sad,
At banquets once so glad.

(18) But well they wept the day
When from the Ephesian dance
Joyful she found her way
Among the virgins chaste.

As Phoebus' sister now to soar.
Far lovelier than before."

1) The river Inacus descended from a hill towards
Argos, where Pallas was revered.

2) The Muses.

ITALIAN LITERATURE 131

The "Hymns to the Graces", dedicated to
Antonio Canova, constitute one of the most
original poems of modern times. The first Hymn
is entitled "Yenus", symbolizing the Beauty of
the Universe. The Graces as intermediary deities
first appeared on earth as handmaids of Beauty,
and it -was the Ionian shore, i. e., the poet's
own maternal hills, which welcomed them.
Hence the lines so justly admired :

" Hail Zaainth! To Antennor's valiant land, 1)

— Of Ida's holy lares last abode,

— Home of my sires — I'll give my songs, my bones.
My ev'ry thought ; he who forgets his country

Has no right the Graces to invoke or praise.

Sacred indeed is Zacinth. Temples there

Were reared, and shade was in its hills of woods

Once sacred to Diana and the song,

Nor yet had Neptune for Laomedon

Fortified Ilium with towers for war.

Beautiful too is Zacinth. Treasures come

To her from far-oflf ships : and from on high

The eternal sun sends her its vital rays.

The brightest clouds to her Jove ever yields.

And forests amply filled with olive trees

And lib'ral hills of Bacchus : rosy health

Her air breathes forth, with glorious orange trees

And with the flow'ring citron rendered sweet."

But it is not the revelation of visible and

1) Antennor, King of Thrace, fied as an exile from
Troy to Italy and with his followers founded Padua,
here put for Venetia.

132 HISTORY OF

material beauty that is the object of the Graces'
mission. When Venus returned to her star,

" Harmony heard her
And with jubilations shook the ambient air.

Up through the starry ways
She woke applause for her thro' whom one day

The universe shall be attuned."

And in the Second Hymn, which is to Vesta,
the virginal deity, personifying Virtue, Music as
the source of poetry and eloquence is the chief
theme. The three lovely women whose grace
and beauty elevated the poet's mind to the
contemplation of uncreated Beauty were Eleo-
nora Nencini, a skilful performer on the harp;
Maddalena Marliani Bignami, a marvelous
dancer, and Cornelia Rossi-Martinetti, a char-
ming conversationalist. Taking up the Greek
myth of the Bees of Vesta, symbols of persua-
sive eloquence, Foscolo poetizes through this
Hymn on the glorious past and extols the de-
meanor of Amelia Augusta ( daughter of Max-
imilian I., King of Bavaria, and wife of Eugene
de Beauharnais, vice-regent of Italy) on the fall
of the Kingdom : since our poet can proudly
say:

" Those who applaud proud fortune's pomps
My goddesses disdain ; their laurel blooms
Alone when dire distress crowns princes."

The Third Hymn is dedicated to Pallas, per-
sonifying Art. As violent passions destroy the

ITALIAN LITERATURE 133

most merciful inspirations of the Graces, Pallas
directs the making of a veil, which shall protect
these deities from the assaults of Love. The veil
is embroidered by Psyche, Terpsichore, Iris, Flo-
ra, Erato, and Thalia and displays representa-
tions of youth, conjugal love, hospitality, filial
piety and maternal tenderness. No lovelier les-
sons of high morality were ever inculcated than
in this unique Poem.

While we are carried away by the novelty
of the "Graces", in majesty and sublimity all
must admit the superiority of the "Sepulchres."
In conception, in phraseology, in images, in ge-
nerous, civil. Christian sentiments, this Ode is
unsurpassed. It is hoped that the translation
w^hich I offer with pardonable pride may incite
some to a study of the Italian.

SONGS OF THE SEPULCHRES.
To Ippollto Pindemonte.

(1) Shadowed by cypresses, within the urn

That's comforted by tears, is then the sleep
Of death less hard? When I am where the sun
For me no longer fructifies this, earth
With charming groups of animals and plants,
And when before me with fond flatteries
The future hours shall no more gaily dance,
Nor from thy voice, sweet friend, I hear thy verse
And the sad harmony which there prevails.
Nor in my heart shall speak the genius
Of the Virgin Muses and of Love divine,

134 HISTORY OF

— Sole solace of my hapless, roving life —
For days now lost what comfort then a stone
To mark my bones from numbers infinite
Which death has freely strewn on land and sea?
Ahl Pindemonte, true it is, ev'n Hope,
Last goddess, flees the sepulchre, and night
Is symbol of oblivion, in its gloom.

(26) But lives man not, perchance, beneath the sod,
When mute for him day's harmony becomes,
If he can wake it with solicitude
In other minds? Celestial then indeed
This correspondence sweet of loving thoughts,
A heavenly dowry this for man : thro' which
He often loves and lives with the extinct
And the extinct with him, if pious earth
In its maternal womb a last retreat
Affording, rescues the sacred relics
From insults of wild storms and from the tread
Of vulgar feet, preserving with a stone
The name, while near a friendly, fragrant tree
Consoles the ashes with its gentle shade.

(51) To-day a new law moves the sepulchres

Beyond love's reach, and to the dead forbids
A name 1). Without a tomb now lies thy priest 2)
Thalia, 3) who to thee with songs divine
In his poor, wretched hut a laurel reared
With endless love, and for thee made a crown.
And thou didst gladly smile upon his songs,
Through which Sardanapalus once more groaned,
When he alone was pleased with low of herds
Which from fat pastures on Ticino's banks
Bless'd him with food and with luxurious sloth.
O lovely Muse, where art thou?

1) This law was promulgated in France and the Ita-
lian provinces violently annexed to France, June 12, 1804.

2) Parini.

3) The Muse who presided over Satire.

ITALIAN LITERATURE 135

(70) Dost thou, perhaps, among plebeian graves
Beaming, behold where sleeps the sacred head
Of thy Parini? For within its walls
No shade is offered by the lustful town,
— Seducer of emasculated bards —
No stone, no word ; and it may be his bones
Are stained by the ensanguined heads of thieves
Who expiated on the block their crimes.

(86) In vain

O goddess, on thy bard thou callest dews
From squalid night. Ah ! on the grave no flower
Can rise if it be honored not by praise
Of mortals, and unwet by am'rous tears.

(146) A dwelling of repose we wait from death

Where we may hope at last fortune shall cease
From vengeance, and loved ones left shall reap
No heritage of treasures, but a wealth
Of burning thoughts and lib'ral, generous songs.
The urns that hold the great inflame strong minds
To mighty deeds, O Pindemonte ; lands
Which cherish such become holy, sublime
To pilgrims. When I the monument beheld
Where rests the body of that Mighty One, 1)
Who, tempering the sceptre of earth's Kings,
Stripped off its laurels and then showed the world
That naught but tears and blood were dripping

[there ;
And viewed the arch of that Olympus 2) raised
In Kome to the celestials : and the tomb
Of him 3) who saw world follow world beneath
Th' ethereal tent, the radiant sun unmoved.

1) Macchiavelli. The view taken by Foscolo is ori-
ginal.

2) The cupola of St. Peter's, constructed by Michael
Angelo.

3) Galileo.

136 HISTORY OF

Whereby the Englishman 1) in bolder flight
Unclogged the firmament and showed its paths ;
Blessed art thou, I cried, because of air
Pregnant with life, and for those cooling streams
tour'd down on thee from lofty Apennines.

(173) And thou first, Florence, heard the song which

[stirred
The anger of the fleeing Ghibelline 2).

But still more blest art thou that thy fane 3) guards
Italia's glories ; all that's left, perhaps.
Since treacherous Alps and changed omnipotence
Of human fates rob thee of arms and lands,
Wealth, altars ; all, save memory, is lost."

1) Newton.

2) Dante began the Divine Comedy before he left
Florence.

3) Santa Croce.

1^1 11^

1780-1835.

CHAPTER IX.

The Romanticists.

Alessandro Manzoni, 1784-1873, is so much
the most brilliant exponent of romanticism in
Italy, that the whole movement seems to be
summed up in this one man. Yet, whether con-
sciously so or not, his contemporaries and suc-
cessors were powerfully influenced by his com-
manding genius.

In order to understand Manzoni's position
w^e must remember that after the dreams ex-
cited by Napoleon's deceptions, Italy fell back
into the power of her old oppressors. The
Bourbons were restored to Naples, the petty
princes to their several states, the House of
Savoy to Piedmont and the Austrians to Venice
and Lombardy; and the last state of the pa-
triots w^as worse than the first. It was into
this condition of affairs that the young Man-
zoni, a grandson of the famous Beccaria, w^as
forced to make his way. Born and reared in

138 HISTORY OP

Milan, Manzoni in 1808 had married Mile.
Louise Henriette Blondel, the daughter of a Ge-
nevan Banker. This charming woman and
perfect wife exercised a rare influence over her
gifted husband, and herself a convert from Pro-
testantism to Catholicism, led him to make an
open confession of the same faith. Manzoni was
an avowed emulator of Monti in his first verses,
and, strange to say, shares w^ith Monti the rare
good fortune of having a lovely wife and a de-
voted daughter. Of course the absence of do-
mestic happiness in the lives of the Italian wri-
ters must long ere this have made itself ap-
parent.

Armed, then, with the humanitarianism of
his illustrious grandfather, and with the strong
consolations of the Gospel, the memorable year
of 1815 found Manzoni calm and fearless. It
was indeed just at that very time that he came
forward with the first inspirations of his genius,
the "Sacred Hymns." It was a collection which
embraced "The Resurrection"; "The Name of
Mary"; " The Nativity "; "The Passion"; and
"The Feast of Pentecost"; and with this sublime
little book the new literature was commenced.

Already was Manzoni adored by that little
band of youthful patriots embracing Berchet,
Ermes Yisconti, De Cristoforis, Silvio Pellico
and Borsieri, who were writing their paper, the

ITALIAN LITERATURE 139

"Conciliatore" in the same spirit which inspired
the "Inni Sacri." As an Italian critic says: "The
light of the Infinite once more shone on all the
oppressed, announcing in forms of new beauty
that the spirit of the Lord is the spirit of li-
berty." And when in 1819 Manzoni's first tra-
gedy "II Conte di Carmagnola" appeared, lite-
rature was forever emancipated from law^s
founded on special facts and not on general
principles ; or, in other w^ords , the Romantic
movement which originated in Germany found
in Manzoni its true apostle, and proved itself to
be a formidable power in Italian politics. The
whole thrilling, heart-rending story of "The
Count of Carmagnola" is given in Mrs. Oli-
phant's "Makers of Venice", and rugged though
reliable translations from Manzoni's tragedy
are within easy reach in Howell's "Modern
Italian Poets."

The third great work which made Manzoni
known to the world was an Ode entitled "The
Fifth of May", a magnificent meditation on the
death of Napoleon, and pronounced by Goethe
the first of modern lyrics. Longfellow's "Poets
and Poetry of Europe" contains a superb trans-
lation of this Ode.

Living the serene and dignified life of the
thinker, in his country home outside of Milan,
Manzoni published only such writings as met

140 HISTORY OF

his cwn approbation. His second great tragedy,
"Adelchi", throbs with the beating of his great
heart and glows with the fire of his genius. It
is the story of the contest between the Longo-
bards and the Franks for the possession of the
Latin land and people. Manzoni "thinks and
suffers with the miserable herd of whom the
chroniclers make no mention, the oppressed
people whose deep groan has an echo in the sad
and solemn chorus of the tragedy." Giving the
world a new insight of History, at the same
time Manzoni delineates the celestial purity of
Ermengarda ( of whom his lovely wife was the
model ) and the magnanimity of Adelchi with a
skill and power that can never be forgotten.

A few more years pass and Manzoni's name
is on every lip as the author of that incompa-
rable novel - "I Promessi Sposi", one of the
world's treasures, which everybody either has
read or will read.

Manzoni's life was prolonged through all
the cruel vicissitudes of his dear Italy; through
the hopes excited by Pio Nono and the bitter
blasting of those hopes; through the crushing
defeats of 1848 and '9 and the galling reasser-
tion of Austrian despotism. He looked on the
guerilla warfare of Garibaldi and the wild ardor
of Mazzini. He watched the progress of Victor
Emanuel II, the policy of Cavour, the friendly

ITALIAN LITERATURE 141

overtures of Napoleon III and the victory of
Solferino. And through all these weary years
he lived and prayed and hoped.

The dawn of his country's unity and inde-
pendence was drawing near, but the great man's
private life w^as full of sorrow. His devoted
friends had been exiled, incarcerated in dun-
geons, killed by civil strife and Austrian cruelty;
the beloved wife had died, and his favorite
daughter, Giulia, the wife of the distinguished
statesman, Massimo d'Azeglio, as well as two
other daughters and a son who realized his
father's fondest hopes preceded him to the grave.
At the earnest solicitation of his friends, Man-
zoni had married again, and his second w^ife, the
w^idowed Contessa Stampa and her son were
unwearied in their affectionate care of him. But
through the stormy decade from 1860 to 1870
Manzoni's soul refused comfort from every other
source than that which brought nearer the days
of freedom. The romance of Garibaldi's conquest
of the tw^o Sicilies, the threatened Confederation
of Italy, the contest first between Prussia and
Austria, and then between Prussia and France,
ending in the catastrophe of Sedan, hastened
the coming of those days, and at last Manzoni,
full of years, and coming to his grave like a
shock of com in its season, saw the realization

142 HISTORY OF

of his life's desire, and knew that he had been
one

" Who hurried onward to extinguish hell

With his fresh soul, his younger hope and God's

Maturity of purpose."

^ If this world is blest when it possesses a
poet, a scholar or a philosopher, what shall we
deem it w^hen a man appears w^ho sums up in
himself all of these capacities? Such was the
colossal genius of Count Giacomo Leopardi; —
a prism reflecting glorious rays of Virtue, Truth
and Beauty.

Europe, - 1 mean the world, - has had no
mind in modern times that can be compared
with Leopardi's. He was born in the dull little
town of Recanati, in the Marca di Ancona, in
1798, of noble blood on both sides of his family.
His parents, especially his despotic father, hated
the present, and loved everything that was an-
tiquated and obsolete. The delicate boy (for he
was born sick ) was given two tutors, - eccle-
siastics, of course, - until he w^as 14, w^hen a
public trial in Philosophy convinced everyone
that he needed no instructors. From this time
until he was 24 he studied unremittingly in the
vast library of his ancestors, and by that time
excessive application had completely undermi-
ned his frail constitution and given him the ap-
pearance of a hunchback.

ITALIAN LITERATURE 143

A master of Latin, Greek and Hebrew, French,
Spanish, English and German, when, in despe-
rate longing, Leopardi sallied forth from wret-
ched little Recanati and came to Rome, scho-
lars of every nationality, - Giordani, Niebuhr,
Akerblad, Boissonade, &c. flocked around him.
But Leopardi was never without the compa-
nionship of pain. Visiting Bologna, Milan and
Florence, in which last named city he enjoyed
the friendship of that noble triumvirate consist-
ing of Niccolini, Gino Capponi and Giuliano
Frullani,the distinguished scholar was occupied
in writing and in publishing his works. Of
course the general public did not give these a
moment's attention, and poverty often compell-
ed the great author to beat a retreat to the pa-
ternal dwelling.

In the narrow limits of this History it is
impossible to give even the titles of Leopardi's
writings. Fascinating and beautiful are the
Thirty-six Poems and the Six Poetic Fragments.
Startling and enthralling we find the contents
of the "Operette Morali", which consist of 15
Dialogues, — between Fashion and Death; Na-
ture and a Soul, and other subjects just as
weird; and also of short sketches embracing "A
History of the Human Race" and "Parini on
Glory." Again, the'"Pensieri" produce an in-
delible impression, and the exquisite Transla-

144 HISTORY OP

tions from the Greek Fathers and Monks and
those great moralists, Xenophon, Isocrates and
Epictetus wear a new charm in the faultless
diction of Leopardi.

And yet, with all this dazzling originality,
this stupendous learning, this almost omnipo-
tent skill in writing, Leopardi did not incarnate
his genius. Deprived of nearly everything that
men hold dear; unfortunate in his birthplace, in
his age, in his domestic relations, in his bodily
infirmities, in the scorn of women, in the pecu-
niary failure of his writings, in the certainty of
dying young, in the unceasing consciousness
of agonizing pain, and above all, in distortions,
or, perhaps, obliterations, on the part of parents
and educators, of "all those things that a Chri-
stian ought to know and believe to his soul's
health", it is not surprising that Leopardi is
more celebrated for his sadness than for any of
the products of his wonderful mind.

One blessing, however, and one w^hich we
love to think about, was not denied him, - the
whole-souled friendship of Antonio Ranieri. The
home of this noble friend in Naples was Leopar-
di's last refuge, and he died at the age of 38 in
the arms of this man, who has immortalized
himself by w^riting with an incomparable elo-
quence of the genius he revered and the friend
whom he adored.

ITALIAN LITERATURE 145

Leopardi is buried in the little suburban
church of San Vitale on the way to PozzuoH,
where Ranieri placed a stone "which makes mo-
dest and pious record of him to the passer-by."
The incomparable intellectuality of Leopardi
does not obscure the radiant tenderness of Man-
zoni on the one hand nor the sublime democratic
fervor of Niccolini on the other. It is one of the
glories of Sismondi, that, in closing his monu-
mental "History of Literature in the South of
Europe", he predicted the fame and greatness
of Giambattista Niccolini.

This brilliant poet and political dramatist
was born in 1782 near Pistoja, of a cavalier
father and a mother descended from the famous
Filicaja. Beginning early to write tragedies,
which he based upon historical events in order
to fan the flame of modern patriotism, Niccolini
reached the zenith of his powers in his unrivalled
drama, "Arnaldo da Brescia." The offices he
held, the persecutions and perils he suffered for
his love of liberty, his noble and learned di-
scourses on literary subjects, all sink into such
insignificance by the side of this magnificent
tragedy, that we cannot give them a moment's
notice here. One phase of his life alone must be
remembered. The people of Florence - which
became Niccolini's home — were so w^ild with de-
light over the daring, burning patriotism of

146 HISTORY OF

their poet, that they named their principal
theatre the teatroNiccolini, thronged to sec and
hear his works for months at a time, rose in a
body and repeated his lines, wept, applauded,
and finally carried the poet in triumph to his
home. When we remember that this whole Uni-
ted States has never been able to produce any-
thing comparable to this noble enthusiasm in
either poet or people, w^e realize the inalienable
greatness of the Italians, and see whatLeopardi
meant when he said they are

" The people born to conquer,
Both, in happy fate and vile."

Of course, in order to appreciate the "Ar-
naldo da Brescia" there must be a thorough
knowledge of the character of the brave monk,
the age in which he lived, and the forces which
were in open and deadly conflict at that time.

Amaldo, the pupil of Abelard, is the man of
genius, gifted with the intellectual power to see
that the garden spot of this beautiful world
was not intended for the brutal selfishness of a
w^orldly Emperor or the despicable hypocrisy
of a pious Pope. Frederick Barbarossa is the
w^orldly Emperor. Nicholas Breakspear, known
as Adrian IV, the only Englishman who ever
won the Pontificate, is the pious Pope. Hence
the clash of interests is desperate.

Arnaldo, lighting down in Rome from the

ITALIAN LITERATURE 147

Lombard cities, devastated and ruined by Bar-
barossa's cruelty, excites the people to rise
against both Pope and Emperor and restore
their Republic. Giordano Pierleoni and his fol-
lowers hear him with delight. Leone Frangi-
pani and his men reject him. Cardinal Guido is
among his hearers and hastens to Adrian to
suggest and implore the extinction of Amaldo.
Adrian, however, resolves to make the efifort to
subjugate Arnaldo. The brave monk does not
refuse the herald's summons, and the colloquy
betw^een the reformer and the Pope is fine. The
fanatical Guido then sallies forth to harangue
the people to oppose Arnaldo. But the people
have j ust been roused to fury against the Church,
and in a momentary excitement Guido is killed.
The sight of the "martyr's" body, exposed
on the steps of St. Peter's, inflames the zeal of
the w^omen, - always dependent for happiness
on religious consolation, and priest-ridden here
from cruel necessity. The Pope proclaims the
interdict. Amaldo flees to the desert of the
Campagna, and there his brave Switzers and
his friend Giordano find him. The Sw^itzers are
ordered home under penalty of the ban of the
empire; and Arnaldo, being suddenly arrested
by a monk, Giordano puts him in the care of
Ostasio, the Count of Campagna.

The whole of Act IV is devoted to the people

148 HISTORY OF

who have suffered from the Germans, and to the
meeting between Barbarossa and Adrian. The
w^retched haggling between these two po-werful
monarchs over the right of precedence, - from
the holding of the horse's bridle to the homage
of the State, - is a masterly delineation of the
miserable pettiness of the great. At last they
find a via media when the Emperor promises to
deliver the anarchist, Arnaldo, to the Pope.

But he could not have done this (Act V) had
not Adelasia, the wife of Ostasio, crazed by the
terrors of the interdict, fled to the Pope and re-
vealed Arnaldo's hiding place. Arnaldo's last so-
liloquy, his seizure, the enthronement of Adrian,
the coronation of Barbarossa, the combat be-
tween the Germans and the Romans close the
tragedy, — wonderful, brilliant, almost super-
human in its grandeur. The sublime announce-
ment of Arnaldo's execution is in a simple
meeting between Giordano and Ostasio, when
the latter says,

" Faithful Giordano, I press thee to my heart,

Where is Arnaldo?

(?. In Heaven.

0. At least he has a sepulchre?

(?. The Tiber.

0. Then the river shall render us his corse.

G-. It cannot.

0. And how is this?

G. Every human vestige of him 's perished.
Burnt by flre, ashes alone remained.
And these are lost amid the waves.

0. And has the liberty of Eome died with him?

Gio. It lives on still.''

ITALIAN LITEKATUKE 149

It is this holy, spiritual, devout belief in the
inevitable triumph of the right through suf-
fering, shame and loss which renders this work
of Niccolini something more than a masterpiece;
or, in other words, an evangel. " These|lines ",
said an Italian, "are composed not of words,
but of flames."

Hallam compares Mme. de Stael to Tacitus
w^hen she says of Crescentius, Arnaldo da Bre-
scia and Rienzi, "ils ont pris les souvenirs pour
les esperances." But Niccolini has looked far
more closely into the real progress of mankind.
He has seen that if there is anything certain it
is that there is One "who putteth down the
mighty from their seat and exalteth the humble
and meek."

Many have asked of the dead facts of Hi-
story, "Can these dry bones live?" Niccolini
has breathed upon these slain with the breath
ofhis genius, and, as in Ezekiel's vision, they
ijare risen to life again. This is the most won-
derful thing about the drama. It all applies to
modern times, — to the age in which the poet
lived.

No wonder it created a storm of excitement,
and that from 1843 to 1870 it was a pow^erful
factor in the last and great "risorgimentci".

"Arnaldo da Brescia" is not only the most
effective blow ever dealt the Papacy, and the

150 HISTORY OF

most tremendous indictment of Romanism; it
is a stupendous exposition of that human and
Divine law^ which is ultimately to govern our
race.

While not more than one person in ten thou-
sand in this country has ever heard of Niccolini,
every College graduate is familiar with the
name of Silvio Pellico, 1788-1854. Well do we
remember the days when w^e studied about this
w^onderful man in our "Mental Philosophy". In
our youthful ignorance w^e thought of him as
an old man and belonging to a prehistoric age.
Reader ! Silvio Pellico was only 32 w^hen he en-
tered upon his prison life, and he lived in our
ow^n century !

Belonging to an affectionate family, the
young Pellico had been compelled by ill-health
to go to live w^ith a cousin in Lyons. But soon
after attaining manhood he returned to his
home in Turin, and then went to Milan to ac-
cept the position of tutor in the family of Count
Luigi Porro Lambertenghi. Of course Pellico
brought -with him from France all the latest
ideas about liberty and equality, and he found
in Count Porro a congenial spirit. The home of
this truly liberal nobleman was a rendezvous
for strangers and distinguished people, and in
its "sale di conversazione" Pellico had the plea-
sure of meeting Byron, Hobhouse, Mme. de

ITALIAN LITERATURE 151

Stael, Schlegel, Thorwalsden, Brougham and

other celebrities. Pellico had already acquired

extraordinary fame by his tragedy, "Francesca

da Rimini", -an episode of Italian History,

and loved by the people for those brave lines in

the Second Act:

" For whom is my sword stained with carnage?

For the stranger. And have I then no country

To which the blood of its citizens is sacred? .

For thee, for thee, that hast brave citizens

My Italy, I will fight, when outrage

Moves thy hatred. And art thou not

The loveliest land the sun has ever heated?

Art thou not Mother of every beautiful Art, O Italy?

Is not thy dust the dust of heroes " ?

It was then almost by acclamation that
Silvio was appointed to the post of secretary of
the " Conciliatore ", a journal, of which pro-
gress was the w^atchword, patriotism the in-
spiration, and romanticism the banner. Among
those who wrote for it were Manzoni, Borsieri,
Count Ermes Visconti, Gioia, Sismondi and
Berchet. 1) The Journal w^as regarded with
suspicion by the Austrian Government, and
though its policeman described Pellico as a

1) Giovanni Berchet, of French extraction, but of
Italian birth and affection, stands high among the pa-
triotic poets for the popularity and eflScacy of his lyrics.
An exile for 27 years, he yet did a grand work for Italy
by his reiterated expression of hatred for Austria. His
principal poems are " Fantasies ", " The Exiles of Par-
ga"; "Giulia"; "The Hermit of Mt. Cenis"; "Ee-
morse."

152 HISTORY OF

harmless sciolist, the higher powers took ano
ther view of the case, a view which has always
4y remained a profound mystery. For to this day
no one knows why Silvio Pellico was impri-
soned.

He was arrested suddenly on October 13th,
1820, and conducted to the Prison of Santa
Margherita in Milan. Cruel examinations foUow^-
ed, for the purpose of making him criminate
his friends. But no word escaped him. After
four months here he was taken to the Piombi
of Venice. Fresh examinations and a year's
imprisonment here ended in the sentence, "Con-
demned to hard imprisonment for 15 years in
the Fortress of the Spielberg." In the little Mo-
ravian town of Brun, far from lovely Italy, this
fortress rears its gloomy head, and it w^as here
that our hero experienced the outrages describ-
ed in the pages of " My Prisons."

Through the intercession of Count Pralor-
mo. Envoy of the Coijrt of Turin to Vienna,
Pellico's imprisonment was shortened to IQ
years. But he came out of this cruel incai"-
ceration so shattered in health that his life was
practically over.

Pellico was the author of 12 tragedies, ijiost
of which were written in prjson. By fay the
most celebrated of these has always been his
youthful work, "Francesca da Rimini." It is

ITALIAN LITERATURE 153

hard to understand ho-w^ so pure a soul could
enjoy the delineation of a passion, which, if
not in itself guilty, borders upon guilt by its
very violence. Dante had placed Francesca, the
daughter of his friend, Guido da Polenta, in the
Inferno, yet had poetized exquisitely on her hap-
less love. Leigh Hunt has surpassed himself in
his beautiful "Story of Rimini." Stephen Phi-
lips, the English actor, has just recast this tra-
gedy, adding a strong character and rivalling
the intensity of Pellico. But Pellico's Play em-
bodies the dark features of Italian destiny, and
will ever remain unique.

It is impossible to exaggerate the vyonder-
fulness of that strange book, "LeMiePrigioni."
It spread like wild-fire through the land, was
translated into every European language, and
succeeded in dealing the deadliest blow the
Austrian Government ever received. After the
publication of this book the world was on the
side of Italy. It breathes a spirit of such pro-
found resignation, such exalted peace, such
heroic piety that the stoniest heart must be
touched by it.

Of the generous offers of France and England
to Pellico when once more free, of Massimo d'A-
zeglio's gracious homage, of the hero's own
tranquil, blessed days, the student will read in
larger works than this. But the slightest ac-

154 HISTORY OF

quaintance with such a noble personality will
prove a lasting benefit.

Tommaso Grossi, 1791-1853, an open and
devout admirer of Manzoni, in w^bose house he
lived as a brother for fifteen years, like his
model, achieved great fame both as a poet and
a novelist. He was born at Bellano, studied law^
at Pavia, lived in and near Milan, gave himself
to literature with enthusiasm, fell very much in
love, married late in life, and from that time on
devoted himself to the practice of the law^. His
works are "La Prineide", (a dialogue betw^een
the poet and the minister Prina about the con-
dition of Lombardy); and "La Fuggitiva", in
the Milanese dialect; "The Lombards in the
First Crusade", a poem in 15 cantos in ottava
rima; and "Ildegonda", relating to the Second
Lombard league; and, his crowning w^ork, the
historical novel, "Marco Visconti." All of
Grossi's w^orks are marked by a sweet and pow-
erful melancholy, a rare spontaneity, and a
style full of grace and loveliness.

"Marco Visconti", a tale of the 14th cen-
tury, is like a series of rich paintings, displaying
in turn the highly colored, diversified life of the
Middle Ages. The powerful figure of the great
Condottiere, striving for the lordship of Milan,
is alw^ays visible, but scarcely less interest is
awakened by those humble peasants of Limonta,

ITALIAN LITERATURE 155

on the Lake of Como; by the youthful lovers,
Ottorino Visconti and Bice del Balzo; by that
brave knight, Lupo; by the faithful, loyal
juggler, Treinacoldo; and by the villains, Lo-
drisio Visconti and Pelagrua, who separate the
lovers with their horrid plots for self-advance-
ment. It is a thrilling story, sad and splendid.
The gay tourney, the lovely songs of the trou-
badours, — especially that giving the history of
Folchetto da Provenza, - the gorgeous ban-
quets of theVisconte, the scenery of the loveliest
country in the world, — the border-line of Sw^it-
zerland and Italy, all constitute but a setting for
the passionate soul of the Visconti.

His misery consists in the hopeless love that
he had first for Ermelinda Crivello, and then
for her lovely daughter. Bice del Balzo. Hating
his nephew, Ottorino, for his success with Bice,—
who is indeed "the sweetest Christian soul
alive" — , Marco ti;ies to kill Ottorino; and,
making use of Pelagrua and Lodrisio, the proud
magnate comes to find that they have made use
of him, and the plot results in the death of the
innocent Bice. Marco is betrayed by Lodrisio
into the hands of Azone Visconti and foully killed
by his orders. But the imagination dwells with
delight on the sweet Bice, who "in the dolors of
death tastes the joys of another life." The book

156 HISTORY OF

is pervaded by a devout Christian sentiment
and there is not a dull line in it.

In this group of patriotic poets Giuseppe
Giusti of Florence is the satirist. Disappointed
in love and doomed to premature death by con-
sumption, Giusti felt an ardent delight in his
own genius, as an instrument ior the redemp-
tion of his Country. His was not the thundering
satire of Parini (whom, by the way, he eulogized
in a notable "Discorso"); norwas Giusti master
of the exquisite irony known toLeopardi. Man-
zoni declared that Giusti's Poems could only
have been written in Tuscany and in Tuscany
only by Giusti.

The Florentines had their own peculiar pro-
blems, for their Grand Duke, Leopold II, was a
kind of hereditary sovereign. Giusti satirized
him unmercifully in "II Re Travicello", The
Wooden King. In"Sant'Ambrogio" (the Church
of St. Ambrose in Milan) he shows how the
beautiful military music of the Germans mollified
the wrath of the Italians, the tender sympathy
for "those tallowy fellow- men" making the
poet here eclipse the satirist. In "The Congress
of the Learned" there is an irrepressible gaiety,
the Grand Duke (again) being made the butt,
iiiasmuch as

" For an antidote to progress
To his people he has granted
That it should not know how to read."

ITALIAN LITKRATURE 157

While " The Time-server's Toast " is one long
laugh of rare hilarity.

When Lamartine insolently called Italy "the
land of the dead", Giasti accepted the challenge
and with these words for his title wrote,

" Mere ghosts we poor Italians are

And mummies from the womb.

Our crib's an undertaker's car,

Our swaddling-clothes a tomb.

For us the Prior at the font

Wastes water pure and cloar.

And when we doff our ghostly coils,

He robs us of a bier.

With effigies of Adam's race

Behold us here equipped.

We seem of flesh, but in its place

A skeleton has slipped.

O wretchedly deceived souls,

What are you doing here?

Besign yourselves, you stupid moles.

From earth's face disappear."

And so on with this exquisite pleasantry until
■we reach the climax in

" O you rained down from living lands.
Do tell us with what face
Among the dead you come for health
Or hope for any grace"t

" Ah, yes fond nature's book must have

Its chapters first and last.

To them the life, to us the grave.

Theirs present, and ours past.

But if they will demand the why.

We can escape their scorn.

Our greatness towered mountain high

When they were not ev'n born."

MANZONI'S MASTERPIECE.

After an interval of nearly three centuries
Italy again astonishes the world with a literai-y
masterpiece. In Manzoni we find a genius of the
first order, and in his wonderful novel, "The
Betrothed", a work of Art which may be placed
by the side of "Jerusalem Delivered."

To the everlasting glory of his beloved Italy
Manzoni has known how to erect one of those
monuments "more durable than brass." He
has written the Italian novel, and when we
speak of it as a masterpiece, it is not as of one
among Manzoni's works, but as one among the
marvelous productions of a gifted people.

The national character of this fascinating
work of fiction is due to the passionate patrio-
tism w^hich animates it. It is not merely the
setting forth of an episode in the History of
Milan, - tho' viewed simply in the light of a bit
of Italian History, the book must be most va-
luable to every student; it is, far above and
beyond this, the vivid picturing of his country's
IHe, — its longings, struggles, hopes and fears.

ITALIAN LITERATUEE 159

Out of the simple material of an event in the
lives of two silk-w^eavers, the Artist elaborates
one of those complicated structures know^n as
'the modem novel'; and when w^e remember
that "I Promessi Sposi" appeared in 1827, we
see that Manzoni is the herald and originator
of this style of w^riting: "Caleb Williams" alone
in English and "Les Miserables" alone in French
can be named with "The Betrothed", and "Ca-
leb Williams", tho' published as early as 1794,
never became popular, w^hile "Les Miserables"
was not given to the world until 1862!

The story of the pure and noble love that
existed between Lorenzo Tramaglino and Lucia
Mondella, rudely and cruelly separated by the
miserable cowardice of the priest, Don Abbon-
dio, is an exquisite idyl, and in the delineation
of this romance Manzoni show^s himself a poet.
The priest refuses to marry them because his
life is threatened by a powerful and licentious
nobleman, Don Rodrigo, w^ho thinks to claim
Lucia for himself and sends out his bravoes to
capture the innocent girl. The villain is thwart-
ed in this plot by an humble friar, Fra Cristo-
foro, whose own story is told most graphically;
indeed the probings of his inner life and very
consciousness are masterly.

But the protection he obtains for Lucia is
itself disloyal. It is thought to be the powerful

160 HISTORY OF

protection of a Nun, who occupies a peculiarly
authoritative position in the Convent of Mon-
za. The history of this girl who is known by
the name of Gertrude is the finest specimen of
psychological analysis that I have ever seen,
and her psychical sufferings - for she is the re-
bellious victim of her father's selfish family pride,
immuring her against her will - can only be
likened to those of Falkland and Jean Valjean.

While this haughty, beautiful, but guilty
woman is shielding the sw^eet and innocent Lu-
cia, Lorenzo, or Renzo, as he is familiarly called,
who has been sent by Fra Cristoforo to the
Monastery of the Porta Orientale in Milan, to
be guided and aided in obtaining work and
keeping out of the way of the vengeful Rodrigo,
gets drawn into the insurrection of 1628, fol-
lowing upon the failure of the harvest and the
dreadful oppression of the poor by the Spanish
soldiery. All this makes a most eloquent appeal
to Italian patriotism, and the Italians them-
selves say that it hastened the day of their re-
demption.

Poor Renzo narrowly escapes this tumult
with his life, for he has distinguished himself in
befriending the people's prey, the Chancelor of
Milan. But he finally makes his escape to Ber-
gamo, where his cousin Bortolo, a master-wea-

ITALIAN LITERATURE 161

ver, receives him kindly in spite of the hard
times.

Don Rodrigo, hearing of Renzo's disappear-
ance and ashamed of the failure of his first at-
tempt, resolves to have Fra Cristoforo sent out
of the country and to take Lucia by force from
the Convent. This he succeeds in doing by the
aid of a powerful nobleman who is the lord and
chief of all who have made themselves inde-
pendent of the law, himself a bravo of the worst
description and surrounded by an entire retinue
of these men. Here Manzoni pretends that
searching thro' all the Histories and Manu-
scripts of the times he has not been able to di-
scover the name of this princely villain, who
must therefore be designated 'The Unnamed.'

Of course not even the Unnamed could have
drawn Lucia from the Convent without the
cooperation of some one within, and this person
is the unhappy Gertrude, who has long been in
communication with a certain attach^ of the
great Bravo. And "the voice which had ac-
quired the authority of crime now demanded
the sacrifice of her innocent charge."

In unspeakable terror Lucia is kidnapped
and carried to the Castle of the Unnamed; and
the exquisite purity and the fervent prayers of
the pious girl work the miracle of a complete
conversion in the Outlaw, the story here rising

162 HISTORY OF

to a height of sublimity and at the same time a
sublime simplicity unrivalled in literary Art.

Just at this time the Cardinal Archbishop of
Milan, the celebrated Federigo Borromeo, visits
the parishes of Lecco. His character is inde-
scribably beautiful, and it is to him that the Un-
named turns in the extremity of his self-abase-
ment. The terrified girl is liberated and placed
in the care of some thoroughly good people in
this parish, and her mother, Agnese Mondella,
is summoned hither at once. The tailor and his
•wife, Lucia's and Agnese's hosts, are well drawn,
and all the village excitement over the Cardi-
nal's visit enthusiastically portrayed.

While the Unnamed returns to his castle and
announces the entire change that will henceforth
be made in its management, and while the
sainted Cardinal is giving Don Abbondio the
most thorough overhauling that he has ever
had in all his life, a home is offered Lucia by a
gentlewoman in the neighborhood who has a
passion for doing good. This Donna Prassede
is one of Manzoni^s^ most inimitable creations.
"With ideas Donna Prassede regulated herself
as they say one ought to do with friends : she
had few of them; but for those few she had
great affection." "It was well for Lucia that
she vras not the only one to w^hom Donna Pras-
sede had to do good. She had five daughters;

ITALIAN LITERATURE 163

three were nuns and two were married, and
Donna Prassede naturally found herself with
three convents and two homes to superintend."
The climax of Lucia's story is not reached until
she becomes a member of Donna Prassede's
villa. During the awful night of her impri-
sonment in the castle of the Unnamed, when
there seemed to be absolutely no hope of escape,
she had taken a solemn vow^ to the Madonna
that, if restored to her mother, she would re-
main a virgin. "Thinking that her prayerw^ould
be more acceptable and more surely heard if, in
her desolation, she made some offering, she tried
to remember what she held most dear." She
resolved suddenly to make a sacrifice, and what
could it be but the renunciation of her lover?

The dismay of her poor Mother when Lucia
tells her this is pitiable, but the faithful Agnese
does not cease to make inquiry for Renzo, and
some kind of communication between them is
established by means of friendly secretaries.
Lucia, indeed, might have remained true to her
VOV7 but for Donna Prassede, who, in her zeal
to benefit the girl, abuses Renzo by the hour,
and in becoming his advocate Lucia finds all the
old love rushing back with renewed force.

Such was the situation of affairs when the
terrible Plagiie of 1630 descended upon the
wretched Milanese, already perishing with fa-

164 HISTORY OF

mine and intimidated by a foreign army. The
government authorities are absorbed in a disput-
ed succession to the duchy of Mantua, which is
at the mercy of France and Spain, and "the
people prostrate themselves silent and stupid
under this extremity of evils, having no other
balsam for their misery than the charity of men
ready and prepared to immolate themselves."
Every detail of this frightful scourge is described
with Shakesperean vividness; indeed Manzoni
here continually reminds us of the great English-
man in the awful gloom and solemn earnestness
with which he treats this tragedy.

But, as in the great drama of life itself, so in
this symbolical picture of it, destinies are settled
and problems solved by this crucial test of suf-
fering, and the pestilence decides the fate of "The
Betrothed" and those most intimately connect-
ed with them.

Renzo, who has heard of Lucia's mysterious
vow and been harrowed by it, on recovering
from the Plague has no other thought than to
go in search of her. He finds DonAbbondio also
restored to health, but the same old Don Ab-
bondio; Fra Cristoforo at the head of the noble
army of martyrs in charge of the Lazzaretto;
Don Rodrigo dying in agony unassuaged save
by the noble Frate's prayers; and, finally, Lu-
cia, on the eve of recovery. A kind hearted

ITALIAN LITERATURE 165

" merchantess " has befriended the young girl,
and in the progress of their intercourse Lucia
learns what has become of the Signora Gertru-
de. Accused of atrocious crimes, the wretched
nun confessed her guilt and, being removed to
another convent, began life over again in rigid
expiation of her sins. Thus is every detail of the
story finished with painstaking care, and no
sense of incompleteness lingers in one's recol-
lection. Fra Cristoforo solves the difficulty of
the vow, for in the sacredness of the confessional
Lucia is obliged to admit that she still loves
Renzo, and the good friar finds himself fully jus-
tified in releasing her from her obligation to
the Virgin. The story does not even end wth
the happy marriage (the ceremony of which is
performed at last by Don Abbondio, to the
complete triumph of the lovers), but gives us a
glimpse of the married couple in their peaceful
home, and a vista of their whole future.

While no outline of mere facts can give an
idea of the enjoyment to be derived from a good
novel, such a sketch is particularly at fault in
the present case. The crowing merit of "The
Betrothed" is that it is a story of what the
French call the vie intime, and so marvelous is
its dissection and analysis of motives that this
one novel of Manzoni's is thought to offset the
fifty novels of Sir Walter Scott. In character-

166 HISTORY OF

painting the Italian may be named with Shake-
speare. The conception of Gertrude is stri-
kingly like that of Edmund in "King Lear."
Both are subordinate characters and both deal
with the union of objective cruelty and subjec-
tive crime. In both the admiration of duty and
goodness comes too late, and there is no place
left for their repentance.

In moral purpose " The Betrothed " ranks
with the very greatest of human productions,
for " the continual, perennial sentiment which
breathes from every page of this book", says
Giulio Carcano, "is the protest against injus-
tice." It is the great democratic, and therefore
the great Christian novel : for sympathy with
the poor and suffering constitutes its very being.
The author is not ashamed to bring every phase
of human conduct to the tribunal of revealed
religion, and no one could have written this
book but a devout Christian. It rises above
" Les Miserables " because it reveals a higher
standard of religion in the author, and it rises
above "Caleb Williams" because the love of the
Beautiful alleviates the painful scrutiny of the
inner life. In its delicate humor, in its charming
style, in its lovely sentiments one cannot but
perceive that the author is a poet. The strength
of his genius enabled him to overturn all rules,
set aside all prejudices, and bring to light a

ITALIAN LITERATURE 167

unique work, something which had not appear-
ed in the world before.

Of the many striking passages in this noble
book I select, first, one which describes Renzo,
on his way to Bergamo after his arrest, his ter-
rible fright and flight. In going out of the gate
of Milan he meets several wretched creatures,
dying of famine, and without a moment's hesi-
tation puts his hand in his pocket and gives
them his last few coins. He, himself, had just
eaten a scanty meal and now^, says Manzoni :

"The refection and the good work (for we
are composed of soul and body) comforted and
lightened all his thoughts. Certainly this being
despoiled of his last money gave him more con-
fidence for the future than the finding of ten
times as much would have given him. For, if
to sustain on that day those poor creatures
who were falling on the road Providence had
held in reserve the last pennies of a stranger, a
fugitive, uncertain himself how he would live;
who could believe that He would then abandon
the one of whom He had taken this service, and
to whom He had given a feeling so alert for
Him, so efficaceous, so resolute? "

A second passage of great beauty confronts
us in an allusion to the pestilence which fifty-
three years before had desolated the Milanese,
w^here it was called, and is still, San Carlo's

168 HISTORY OF

Plague. "Such is the strength of Charity!
Among such varied and solemn memories of a
general misfortune it is able to make the name
of one man stand first, because in this man it
has inspired feelings and actions more memo-
rable than the evils; it is able to stamp it in the
mind as a synopsis of all those woes, because it
has mixed him up Avith all of them, as guide,
succorer, example, voluntary victim; from a ca-
lamity for all it makes an enterprise for this one
man; and names it for him as a conquest or a
discovery."

And finally as a specimen of Manzoni's de-
scriptive powers I give this passing mention of
one of the sufferers in the Plague :

"There descended from the threshold of one
of these doors and came towards the convoy a
w^oman, whose aspect announced a youth ad-
vanced, but not gone by; and there pierced
through it a beauty, veiled and ofiiiscated, but
not marred; of a great passion and of a mortal
languor; that beauty soft and at the same time
majestic, w^hich shines in the Lombard blood.
Her carriage was labored, but not feeble; her
eyes gave forth no tears, but bore traces of
having shed many; there was in that grief
something placid and profound, which attested
a soul continually conscious of it. Butitw^asnot
her aspect alone which, among so many mise-

ITALIAN LITERATURE 169

ries, marked her out so particularly as an object

of compassion and revived for her that feeling

novsr worn out and extinguished in all hearts.

She bore on her neck a little girl of about nine

years, dead; but all carefully dressed, with hair

parted on her brow^, and w^earing a perfectly

white frock, as if those hands had adorned her

for a festival long promised and given as a re-
w^ard."

It is in such words of holy counsel, such

enthusiasm for every form of goodness, such

exquisite sympathy for all mankind, that we

pronounce Manzoni " a confessor to the finest

secrets of the human breast."

^^

THE THREEFOLD LEOPARDI.

Ranieri says we must consider Leopardi
first as a philologist, then as a poet, and finally
as a philosopher, for such was the order of his
mental development. But it seems to me that
the secret of a true grasp of his genius lies in its
prismatic character. Leopardi was always three
times as richly endowed as a man of genius
usually is, and every manifestation of his power
bears this triple impress.

A vast collection of MSS. on Philology, we
are told, still lies unpublished in the family li-
brary. But in every line of Leopardi's published
writings he easily proves his mastery of w^ord-
lore. No translator has ever reproduced the
crystal clearness of his style. Landor and Gray,
as representatives of English literature, Haw-
thorne and Bryant in American literature may
give the English reader some faint conception
of the exquisite fitness of Leopardi's words. It
is, of coarse, in Leopardi's translations from the
Greek that his philological ability sets forth its
own claims. This difficult idiom was as familiar

ITALIAN LITERATURE 171

to him as his own tongue and he wrote original
Greek Odes w^hich deceived the greatest scholars
in Germany. But his crowning work in this di.
rection was the making good his boast that the
Italian was the best fitted of all modern lan-
guages to represent the Greek. Isocrates, Xe-
nophon and Epictetus were the w^riters he select-
ed .for this purpose, — moralists of the highest
order, and to be studied, according to Leopar-
di's suggestion, as immortal reformers. The
delightful impression thus given of these ancient
authors is simply of inestimable value. But our
w^onder and delight are on the increase when
we read "The Martyrdom of the Holy Fathers,
&c." and the Oration of Giorgio Gemisto Pleto-
ne. The ascetic piety of the Fathers, or Monks,
is so glowingly set forth in this little tract that
it might be carried as a vade mecum by the de-
vout of all ages. Pletone's Oration on the death
of the Empress Elena is on the immortality
of the soul, and is pervaded by deep religious
feeling. '

It was as a boy of 19 that Leopardi aston.
ished his countrymen with his Ode to Italy;
I mean, of course, only the most learned and
thoughtful of his countrymen. For it was at
once perceived that his patriotism was of a new
description. If, as has been sneeringly said, Al-
fieri was saved by his illiteracy, it is quite as

172 HISTORY OF

true that Leopardi was lost by his learning.
His was a patriotism fired by a consciousness
of a// that Italy had been, or known, or suffered.
In vain does he paraphrase the splendid song of
Simonides for the illiterate. Thus Leopardi be-
comes the scholar's poet, the reward of untold
labors.

The first six Poems, "To Italy"; "On the
Florentine Monument to Dante"; "To (the
great scholar) Angelo Mai"; "For the Marriage
of his sister Paolina"; "To a Victor in the
Football Games"; "The Lesser Brutus", have
for their general subject the decadence of Italy
and the ancient civilization. The next twenty
Poems, among which are the "Hymn to the Pa-
triarchs"; "The Solitary Swallow"; "The Sab-
bath of the Village"; "Consalvo", treat of lost
illusions. The remaining Poems are devoted to
fate, necessity and death. The period of Leo-
pardi's poetical activity w^as the darkest in the
annals of Italy. Nothing gave any promise of
the political romance of these latter days.
Hence his burning lines :

" Weep, since well thou mayst, my Italy,
— The people born to conquer
Both in happy fate and vile."

And addressing Dante, he says :

" O glorious spirit.
Tell me ; is the love of thy Italy dead?
Say : that flame which burnt thee, is it spent?

ITALIAN LITERATURE 173

Say ; shall nevermore that myrtle bloom

That for so long our evils lightened?

Shall no one ever rise

Re«embling thee in any way?

Have we perished forever? And has our shame

Indeed no confines?
I, while I live, will go exclaiming :
Turn thee to thy sires, base lineage ;

Behold these ruins,
And the papers, and the canvass and the marbles and

[the temples ;

Think what soil thou treadest :" —

Most of Leopardi's poems are in metres
Tvholly original, and are either unrhymed, or so
capriciously rhymed that no translation can do
them justice. After much investigation I find
that his faultless purity and enchanting melan-
choly are -well represented in Miss Katherine
Hillard's version of the

NIGHT SONG
OF A WANDERING ASIAN SHEPHEED.

" What dost thou, moon in heaven ; tell me, what dost

[thou
O silent moon?
Rising with evening and slowly pacing
The skies, contemplating the desert ; then setting.
Oh, art thou not yet weary
Of still retracing the everlasting pathways?
Art thou not yet rebellious? dost still delight
In gazing at these valleys?

Like thy life
The shepherd's life, methinks.
With earliest dawn he rises,
Drives his flock far afield, and watches
The fiock, the brook, the pastures ;
Then wearied out, lies down to rest at evening.

174 HISTORY OF

Nor to aught else aspires.

Tell me, O moon, what value

Such a life to the shepherd.
Such a life, moon, to thee? tell me where leadeth

This brief existence of mine.

And thy eternal iourneys?
An old man hoary and delicate.
Half-clad ana going barefoot,
Bearing a heavy burden upon his shoulders, —

Over the mountains and over valleys,
Over sharp rocks, deep sands and thorny places.
In wind, in tempest, or when the lightning
Hashes, or the hailstones strike him, —
Still, hurried on, hurries on panting.

Traverses torrents and marshes.
Falls and rises again, and faster and faster hastens ;

Without rest or refreshment.
Torn and bleeding he goes ; and at last arriveth

There where the pathway
And his struggles alike have ending ;
There he Sings himself down and flndeth oblivion.
Such, O virgin moon.

Such is mortal existence."

Often, thus gazing upon thee.
Standing so silent above those, the desert regions,
Whereto with distant arch the heavens confine thee,

Step by step, as we travel slowly together,
And when I gaze at the stars that above me are

[burning, —
I say to myself, as I'm thinking.
Why all these starry flres?
What means this infinite air and what the
Depths of the heavens? What is the meaning
Of all this solitude boundless? And I, what am I ?
Thus I discourse with myself, and of all my

[surroundings,
Sky and earth, endless and splendid.
With all their offspring unnumbered ;
Of all their relations and movements.
Of all things celestial, terrestial.
Sweeping on still, without resting.

ITALIAN LITERATURE 175

Ever returning to fill their places appointed.
Of all things no purpose,
No real fruit can I see.
Eut thou at least, maiden immortal, thou
Knowest all things.
This thing I know, and I feel it :
That out of this endless motion.
Out of this frail human nature
Some slight good and contentment
Others may get, perchance : to me our life is but'evil.
O flock of mine at rest here, O happy creatures.
That know not your fate, I believe you unconscious of

[sorrow !
What envy to you I bear !
Not only that even of suffering
Almost unheeding ye go, —
That hunger or terror
Seizing upon you, is ever as swiftly forgotten.
But still more because tedium never o'ertakes you.
And when ye rest in the shade in sweet grasses,
Content and quiet bide with you.

Had I wings like a bird, peradventure.
To bear me on high through the heavens.

And one by one to number the planets.
Or, like the thunder, leap from one peak to another.

Happier I'd be, sweet my flock.

Happier I'd be, fairest moon.
Perchance, though, my wandering fancy
Strays from the truth, in dreaming of fortunes not mine.
Perchance in every fate, in every form,
Whether within the cradle or the fold,
To all the fatal day is that of birth."

Francis H. Cliffe, in his Manual of Italian
Literature, has given us a fascinating study of
Leopardi, -whom he ranks as a lyric poet above
Horace, De Musset, Keats and Shelly. This
enthusiastic critic has also made beautiful

176

HISTORY OF

and sympathetic translations of all Leopardi's
Poems, and from these I select

THE CALM AFTER THE TEMPEST.

" The storm hath passed away ; the birds rejoice ;
I hear the feathered songsters tune their notes
As they again come forth. Behold ! the sky
Serenely breaks through regions of the West,
Beyond the mountain ridge, the country round
Emerges from the shadows, and below
Within the vale, the river clearly shines.

Each heart rejoices ; everywhere the sound

Of life revives and the accustomed work ;

The artisan to see the liquid sky.

With tools in hand and singing as he comes,

Before the door of his abode appears ;

The maiden with her pitcher issues forth

To seize the waters of the recent rain,

And he who traffics in the flowers and herbs

Of Mother Earth, his daily cry renews

In roads and lanes as he again proceeds.

See how the Sun returns ! See how he smiles

Upon the hills and houses! Busy hands

Are opening windows and withdrawing screens

From balconies and ample terraces ;

And from the street where lively trafiQc runs

The tinkling bells in silver distance sound ;

The wheels revolve as now the traveller

His lengthy journey on the road resumes.

Each heart rejoices. When is life so sweet.
So welcome, as it now appears to all?
When with like joy doth man to studies bend.
To work return, or to new actions rise?
When doth he less remember all his ills?
Ah, truly. Pleasure is the child of Woe ;
Joy, idle Joy, the fruit of recent Fear
Which roused with terror of immediate death
The heart of him who most abhorred this life ;

ITALIAN LITERATURE 177

And thus the nations in a torment long,

Cold, silent, withered with expectant fear,

Shuddered and trembled, seeing from Heaven's gate

The angry Powers in serried order march.

The clouds, the winds, the shafts of living fire.

To our annihilation and despair.

O bounteous nature ! these thy presents are,

These are the joys on mortals thou doth shower ;

To escape from pain is happiness on earth.

Sorrows thou pourest with abundant hand ;

Pain rises freely from a fertile seed ;

The little pleasure that from endless woe

As by a miracle receives its birth,

Is held a mighty gain. Our human race

Dear to the Eternal Rulers of the Sky!

Ah! blest enough and fortunate indeed

Art thou if pain brief respite gives to thee

To breathe and live ; favored beyond compare

Art thou if cured of every grief by Death."

The longest and the most celebrated of the
Poems is "La Ginestra" i. e. The Broom Flow-
er. It has for its motto the text from St.
John's Gospel — "And men love darkness rather
than light", — and is a dirge upon the desola-
ted plains of Pompei and Herculaneum, -where
now nothing grows but this unpretending little
flow^er.

It is, unquestionably, as a philosopher,
that Leopardi is best known to the w^orld, and
among philosophers a conspicuous place is as-
signed him as a pessimist. It is true that Leo-
pardi is the poet of the pessimistic mood and
his utterances closely resemble those of David,
Solomon and even Job. But he never attempted

178 HISTORY OF

to formulate any philosophical theory. He has
none of the vehemence of Pascal, the flippancy
of Schopenhauer, the bitterness of Chamfort,
the cynicism of Montaigne or the bravado of
Byron. Leopardi was sad because every cir-
cumstance of his life made him sad. But in my
opinion, he was before all else a moralist. He
did not believe in civilization because "every ex-
ample of human baseness moved his soul to
scorn"; because he " felt himself greater than
this boastful age, which n ourishes itself on empty
hopes, delights in jests, despises virtue, and as
an imbecile demands the useful, seeing not that
life becomes more useless every moment." Both
the life and the writings of Leopardi are marked
by an immaculate purity. Is not the bulk of his
w^ritings entitled Operette Morali? In prose his
forte w^as a delicate, playful, veiled satire. I refer
my readers to the translations of two of the
Dialogues in "The Philosophy of Disenchant-
ment" by Edgar Saltus, though I do not agree
w^ith the critic's conclusions.

The charges of pessimism brought against
Leopardi are largely due to the ridicule he heap-
ed upon the 19th century; to his hatred of ma-
terialism and sensual luxury; to the skill with
which he demonstrated howfew can enter learn-
ing's portals; how^ impossible it is for those
who live in cities to receive any sublime or beau-

ITALIAN LITERATURE 179

tiful impressions from literature and Art, be-
cause "the spectacle of vain magnificence, the
levity of mind, the perpetual falsity, the mise-
rable cares and the still more miserable ease
■which reign there are inimical to such impres-
sions." But above all, Leopardi's own supe-
riority w^ill account for his unpopularity. For
it is of a kind which must either be admired or
rejected; and if it is admired, it must be at the
price of the severest labor; while if it is rejected,
it brands with its w^ithering contempt.

Leopardi was so unworldly that he put his
best thoughts into the mouths of the imaginary
Ottonieri and the adored Parini. But, in spite
of all detractions, he, himself, will continue to
be the teacher of an elect fev<r, w^ho, in turn, will
interpret him to those beneath them. For Leo-
pardi opens the w^ay to the issue from which
the human race shrinks, that man's progress is
moral, and that the intellectual force which w^ill
not subordinate itself to moral ends is worthless.

r830-l870.

CHAPTER X.
The Patriots.

The most progressive organization in the
United States can even at this late day find no
more eloquent champion of its cause than Giu-
seppe Mazziai. For the "Rights" of the poor
and the "Duties" of the rich have been expound-
ed by Mazzini for all time.

Born in Genoa in 1805, Mazzini was arrest-
ed by the Austrian Government in 1830 because
he "indulged in the habit of thinking." Five
months of solitary imprisonment did not cure
him of this dangerous habit, and when he emer-
ged, it was to be no longer one of the secret so-
ciety of the Carbonari, but the founder of that
"Young Italy" which became the dominant as-
sociation of Europe.

Mazzini's unselfish love of the people, - the
lowest and the least — and his genius for self-
abnegation made him a terror to the House of

ITALIAN LITEEATUKE 181

Savoy, and as an exile he was driven from Italy
to France, from France to Switzerland, and fi-
nally, to England. During his sojourn" in En-
gland he wrote for the review^s and threw his
whole heart into the teaching of poor Italians,
many of whom were organ-grinders.

It was in 1844 that English statesmen were
found guilty of the infamy of having violated
Mazzini's correspondence. But the English mi-
nisters had already done their base work of
transmitting to Austria information which led
to the capture and execution of the Bandiera
brothers, who had attempted to rouse Naples
against the Bourbons,

When, then, in 1848 Mazzini's 17 years' apo-
stolate had done its w^ork and a splendid out-
burst of national feeling swept over the whole
country, he returned to Italy; and w^hen the
Pope fled from Rome, Mazzini's romantic dream
was acted out, Rome became a Republic (with
Armellini, Mazzini and Saffi as Triumvirs) and
the world rang with the heroic resistance of the
citizen-soldiers to the French bombardment.

The republic fell, — inevitably — ; but owing
to -what his enemies called Mazzini's "fatal in-
fluence", the people had become Italianized, and
Cavour was compelled to declare war against
Austria.

For the next 20 years Mazzini was here,

182 HISTORY OF

there and every- where, the life and soul of every
insurrection, and every mere ^meute. Nearly all
the time he was writing and propagating his
altruism and his passion for unity. He was
so far in advance of his age that no one could
keep up with him, and it is not strange that he
exasperated those in power.

The greatest sacrifice that it was possible
for Mazzini to make w^as his acceptance of the
monarchy, out of respect for the w^ill of the ma-
jority. Joining with Garibaldi in effecting the
conquest of the Sicilies, he w^ent about seeing
"Death to Mazzini"! placarded on the walls of
Naples. His last imprisonment in the strong
fortress of Gaeta completed the undermining of
his frail health, but it did not break his indo-
mitable spirit.

He returned to England for some months,
and then went, to Lugano to conduct a republi-
can journal; and after a year's literary labor
died at Pisa, March 10th, 1872, and was follo-
wed to his grave in Genoa by 80,000 of his
countrymen.

It is not correct to say 'Mazzini might have
been a great writer.' He is a great writer. Not
only in "Giovane Italia", but in his fugitive
Essays on "Art in Italy", "UgoFoscolo" "Dan-
te's Love of Country", "Romance", &c., &c.,
above all in his wonderful treatise on "Rights

ITALIAN LITERATURE 183

and Duties", he is the apostle of a ne\\r order,
the St. George who kills the dragon of indivi-
dualism, the first politician who has ever had
the courage to apply the principles of the New
Testament to politics. Mazzini's motto, Dio e
Popolo, signalized the introduction of a new era
in the world's history.

As in the case of Mazzini, after once hearing
of Garibaldi's heroism, it is a foregone conclus-
ion that one will read everything to be obtained
on the subject.

A sailor, always eager to remove suffering,
Giuseppe Garibaldi was one of the Genoese con-
spirators in 1834, and was then exiled. His
flight to South America, noble efforts on behalf
of Rio Grande and Uruguay, his marriage with
Anita Leonta Crousa, a creole, who thenceforth
shared all his adventures till she fell by thew^ay,
his return to Italy, second banishment, life in
New^ York as a candle-maker, w^ere a prelude to
his brilliant Conquest of the Sicilies in 1860.
Throughout Europe he was called "The Chief-
tain," "The Hero", was elected to the Sardinian
Chamber of Deputies and made General of the
National Guard.

Taking advantage of his position. Garibaldi
acted independently of the Italian government,
w^hose troops encountered, defeated and wound-
ed him at Aspromonte, August 28th, 1862. After

184 HISTORY OF

two months imprisonment he escaped, and was
again defeated at Mentana. The little island of
Caprera now^ became his home, but he came
forth in 1870 to aid Gambetta in establishing
the French Republic. The strangest thing in his
w^hole career is that he found time to write
two novels, - "Cantoni il Volontario", and
"Clelia, or the Rule of the Monk", also an ac-
count of his Sicilian Expedition called " The
Thousand," and his own " Life."

Garibaldi's w^ritings are w^ithout literary
merit, but the old General was a pioneer in for-
cing his way into literature on the strength of
his actions. The strong anti-clerical spirit of his
novels made them of value to the State as well
as to individuals; and they are at least a
straight-forward statement of his views.

Mazzini was the w^izard, Garibaldi the war-
rior; and Count Camillo Benso di Cavoar the
v^rise man of the Revolution. The Italians have
excelled in every department of human activity,
and that they should produce the greatest
statesman of modern times will not surprise
those who are acquainted with their history.
From 1850 to 52 Cavour was an active member
of Azeglio's administration, and from 1852 to his
death in 1861 he was, except for a short inter-
val, the prime minister and virtual ruler of his
country. His bold project of sending a Sardi-

ITALIAN LITERATURE 185

nian contingent to the Crimea "was a stroke of
genius which elicited universal applause, and
marks the date at which Italy ceased to be re-
garded as "a geographical expression." In the
celebrated Congress of Paris which closed the
Crimean War, Cavour occupied a position of
supreme importance and w^as styled the first of
living diplomats. But w^hile his name shines
brightly on the page of History, if one would
understand something of his indefatigable la-
bours for his Country the eleven folio volumes
of his Parliamentary "Discourses" must be
handled. Most of them are on such dry topics
as Taxes, Commerce, Tariff, the National Debt,
and yet the absolute clearness of Cavour's mind
endow^s the Italian with a charm hitherto un-
know^n, and when he passes into French his
Italian does not suffer by comparison. Over-
work brought his beneficent life to a close at
the age of 51. Like so many of his compatriots,
Cavour never married. Giving his w^hole heart
to his country, he left a stainless name both as
a man and as a statesman.

It may be confidently affirmed that there
never did "live a soul so dead" that it could not
be stirred to enthusiasm by the heroism of Da-
niele Manin, the Dictator of Venice. Fired with
such a disinterested spirit that he was glad to
devote his whole life to Liberty, Manin made

186 HISTORY OF

the world realize that it still has its "noble ar-
my of martyrs."

Daniele Manin won distinction as an author
w^hen very young by a masterly translation of
Pothier's treatise " Sur le Droit Romain." His
spirited public addresses, involving scientific
know^ledge of political economy and legal acu-
men, led to the expulsion of the Austrians from
Venice in 1848. When the life and death struggle
between Austria and Venice occurred in 1849,
Manin was the animating spirit of the entire
population, and made its defence one of the
heroic events in the world's history. He failed,
but he made failure put success to shanie. Ex-
iled for life, Manin lived in Paris, where he wrote
and taught and spoke for the unification of Ita-
ly, dying of heart trouble in 1857.

Like the Disraelis, Daniele Manin was an
Italian Jew^. In the miscellaneous w^ritings of
Emilio Castelar the student will find a fitting
tribute to this modern hero.

We first hear of Francesco Domenico Guer-
razzi in Mrs Brow^ning's "CasaGuidi Windows",
for the flattered novelist actually sat in the
Grand Duke's seat when the Florentines drove
out that w^orthy and made their feeble cry for
Freedom. They w^ere far behind the Venetians,
the Romans and the Neapolitans in courage and

ITALIAN LITERATURE 187

endurance and very soon deposed Guerrazzi and
restored Leopold 11.

Guerrazzi, however, worked bravely w^ith
his pen for Florence and w^rote historical novels,
which were adapted to all classes of society,
such as "Isabella Orsini", " The Siege of Flo-
rence", "Beatrice Cenci", "The Battle of Bene-
vento", &c., &c. Critics now^ style these "fero-
cious", and even "atrocious."

I have read the "Siege of Florence" and
found it a vivid and valuable portrayal of that
thrilling period. It is true that Guerrazzi has no
reservations and depicts the worst passions, -
immoralities of every description — but he seems
to be actuated by high motives. He is intensely-
original, and while everyone was aiming to
write Manzonian novels, Guerrazzi struck out
boldly into a new path. The characteristic of
the Manzonian novel is the constant predomi-
nance of the moral quality, ~ the good person
will always be a saint and the bad one a demon.
Guerrazzi saw life under another aspect, and as
his bad people perform some splendid actions
and his saints have their infirmities, it is impos-
sible to foretell their fates.

Guerrazzi is also original in his conception
of a historical novel, which is just the opposite
of the stereotyped kind. Instead of making ima-
ginary characters predominate, Guerrazzi makes

188 HISTORY OF

the real historical personages predominate, and
even his imaginary people carry out the actual
events of the period.

In "The Siege of Florence" we meet all our
old acquaintances, - Macchiavelli, Varchi, Nar-
di, Ferruccio, Michelangelo, Malatesta Baglio-
ne, Francesco Carducci, Nicolo Capponi, Fabri-
zioMaramaldo,&c. The book is based onNardi,
Segni and Yarchi and the historical chapters
are made delightfully lively.

In his style Guerrazzi is bombastic; but if he
is occasionally ridiculous, he is also often elo-
quent. He is a grand hater of every kind of
tyranny, especially the ecclesiastical kind, and
he is racy when he tells us that "Clement VII.
had viscera of granite." Speaking of a nefarious
promise of Leo X., he says :

"Leo kept his word, for the Medici were al-
w^ays generous thieves." But "those inhuman
German beasts" who defiled Florence in 1529,
as well as in the novelist's own day, get their
share of vituperation. While there is fine sar-
casm in the remonstrance; "He w^ill renounce
vengeance ! That seems to me unworthy of the
Italian name." That Guerrazzi's democratic
fervor did not take him off his feet is evident,
for he says :

"Still is born the weak and the strong, the
man of high intellect and the man wanting in

ITALIAN LITERATURE 189

sense; ~ irreparable injustice. With work unin-
terrupted in centuries man may arrive where
these discrepancies are balanced, but yet there
will remain the apparition of genius, -- supreme
injustice, luminous meteor, which burns itself
and consumes those w^ho gaze on it."

The greatest of the patriot-w^riters w^as
Massimo d'Azeglio , born at Turin in 1798.
Accompanying his father, who was theTurinese
Ambassador to Rome, the young d'Azeglio w^as
inspired w^ith a passion for painting and music,
and he had acquired both skill and fame as a
landscape painter in Rome when the death of
his beloved father recalled him to Turin and
made him turn his attention to Literature and
Politics.

In 1830 D'Azeglio married Giulia Manzoni
and took up his abode in Milan, and it was not
long before he discovered his pow^er w^ith the
pen and was the recognized author of "Ettore
Fieramosca" and "Niccolo de' Lapi." The year
1849 found him a member of the Sardinian par-
liament and in March Victor Emmanuel made
him Minister of Foreign Affairs. Ofcourse Ca-
Your's genius displaced him, but the versatile
d'Azeglio served his country as a diplomat and
occupied his last years in writing his (charming)
Autobiography.

The historical novel, "Niccolo de' Lapi" ~

190 HISTORY OF

another version of the ''Siege of Florence" - re-
veals D'Azeglio as the George Macdonald of
Italian Literature, ~ an intensely religious wri-
ter, making everything subserve the one pure
purpose. The idea of making an aged mail of
90 the central figure of a novel is startling, and
yet in spite of the fact that many interesting
young persons present their claims, Niccold is our
hero throughout, the one person w^hom we love
unreservedly. It will be seen that this is intense-
ly Manzonian, and we could hardly expect
anything else of Manzoni's son-in-law and Gros-
si's intimate friend. "Niccolo de' Lapi" deals
rather with the private than the public affairs
of the times and the personal interest supersedes
the historical. But the beautiful reflections of
the author so endear the book to us that we
hate to part from it, w^e keep it by us, we read
it slowly, we permit ourselves to read it as the
reward of some special self-denial. Where, for
instance, wU you find anything finer than this
paragraph :

"Heprepared himself to suffer with that read-
iness and that joy which religion alone can
give, because it alone is sufficiently powerful
over the heart of man to convince him that
suffering is a good; it alone, instead of teaching
him to flee from grief or to support it with
proud and impatient resignation, teaches him

ITALIAN LITERATURE 191

to rejoice and to find in it a gain; it alone is
guide and companion to man in days of mis-
fortune and makes good the boast of being
able to prevent him from becoming either use-
less or dangerous to humanity."

One of the most delightful features of D'Aze-
glio's "Ricordi" is its account of his childhood's
training, his father's extreme severity and his
own passionate love for that father.

As in all epochs of history there cluster
around the great stars groups of lesser lumina-
ries, so it was at this time. We are compelled
to make some inquiries about the Marquis Gino
Capponi because he bore an illustrious name 1)
and also because he w^as the beloved friend of
Leopardi, Niccolini, Giusti and Guerrazzi. In-
deed it seems to have been by a genius for self-
restraint that Capponi stands somewhat in the
background in this group. He belonged avow-
edly to the moderate party, being at the same
time a liberal and a staunch Catholic; patriotic,
yet loyal. Strange to say, he succeeded in con-
ving his fiery associates of his sincerity; and, as
he desired nothing for himself, his disinterested-
ness extorted admiration. His chief work is his
"History of the Republic of Florence", which

1) Being descended from the Nicolb Capponi of the
"Siege" (See Vol. I) as well as related to the wife of Fi-
llcaja.

192 HISTORY OF

occupied him 20 years. It has been pronounced
a wonderfully fair-minded work, and met with
the approval both of the people and of the cri-
tics.

Political influences were so effective in Italy
at this period because the heroes, generally spea-
king, w^ere men of the pen as w^ell as of the
sword. Alberto Mario and Gabriele Rosa, the
former writing " The Mind of Cattaneo", and
the latter the Preface to the "Public Economy"
of that remarkable man, w^ere known, admired
and feared as men who had a well defined ideal
of a Federal Republic, could enforce their theo-
ries as soldiers, citizens and statesmen, and
hence made themselves heard when they thun-
dered out the sublime "No!" to the proffered
armistice of Radetzki. Goffredo Mameli, the
soldier -poet, who fell gloriously under the walls
of Rome in '49, at the age of 21, had first writ-
ten a patriotic Hymn voicing the Nation's cry
for freedom from oppression. Alfonso La Mar-
mora, the greatest general in Victor Emma-
nuel's army, was himself a writer of ability.
One of his volumes is entitled "More Light on
the Political and Military Events of 1866". But
the work which has arrested my attention is
"An Episode of the Italian Resurrection". It
treats of the all-important period when, in 1849
Piedmont under Charles Albert seemed to court

ITALIAN LITERATURE 193

certain destruction at Novara ( March 12th
1849), the great event which necessitated the
abdication of Charles Albert and strengthened
the influence of Mazzini. But, to our surprise,
this tract is a sweeping condemnation of Maz-
zini, w^ho is spoken of as "a conspirator, a fa-
natical sectary, true genius of evil."

As in the great days of 1529, every man in
this first half of the 19th century thought for
himself, and the specific virtue to be found in
man as man may be studied here with supreme
advantage.

The 2.nd portion of La Marmora's work
compares Charles Albert to the Chevalier sans
peur et sans reproche, and gives Bayard's his-
tory to show its marked resemblance to that of
the Savoyard. But in the end the palm is given
to the latter. La Marmora believes that "his-
tory records few acts of such splendid magna-
nimity" as this abdication. As this is just the
reverse of the general opinion, it is profitable
for meditation, and especially so as coming
from a man who won the confidence of his own
age.

Count Cesare Balbo, 1789-1853, the first
cousin of the Marquis Massimo Taparelli D'A-
zeglio, "could not write a detailed account of
his life because he was overcome with anguish
in recalling its vicissitudes." To a cold-blooded

194 HISTORY OF

observer, however, his life seems to have been
exceptionally happy.

His father was Minister to France and later
to Spain, and young Balbo began at nine years
to see much of the w^orld, and at 19 entered
upon public life. "To serve his country" was
the motto of his life. And he did serve it, as
soldier, diplomat, exile, statesman (he was
Prime Minister from March to July 1848 ) and
writer. But his brief exiles and his personal sa-
crifices make no demand upon our sympathies.

In 1823 Balbo married a lovely French wo-
man, the great-grand-daughter of Mashall D'A-
guessau, and when in 1833 he lost this beloved
companion, the mother of his eight children, he
said "she had not given him in life a moment,
had not left him in dying a memory, that was
not of holiness, happiness and sweetness." To
provide a home for his adored father, Balbo in
1836 married the widowed daughter of Count
Napione, "to himself the best second wife, to
his children the best and sweetest substitute for
a Mother, and to his father the best daughter-
in-law in all the world."

Balbo's was undoubtedly a brilliant intel-
lect, and though as friend to the House of Savoy
he was always on the winning side, in his
writings he displays a true appreciation of his
Country. His writings are numerous, but we

ITALIAN LITERATURE 195

may content ourselves with " Historic Medita-
tions"; "The Hopes of Italy"; A "History of
Italy" and the admirable "Life of Dante." The
labors of the Dantisti flowered at last into this
beautiful and satisfying "Life" by Balbo, and
even after the lapse of half a century this work
still holds its ground.

Giovanni Domenico Ruffini, 1807-1881, is so
well known to English readers as plain John
Ruffini, having lived most of his life in England
and w^ritten all of his great w^orks in English,
that we must go back to the early part of his
career and to the actual contents of his novels
in order to bring out his intense Italianism. He
was born in Genoa and in early youth, with his
adored brother, Jacopo Ruffini, joined Mazzini
in the formation of "Giovane Italia." The iron
grip of despotism descended upon these noble
young men in 1833, and while Jacopo was shot,
Giovanni and Mazzini escaped to France and
then to Switzerland and England.

The desolate brother made that free Coun-
try his home and did not return to his native
land until its struggles had subsided. In exile
he produced those four remarkable novels, "Vin-
cenzo", "Doctor Antonio", "Lavinia", Lorenzo
Benoni", written in English and translated into
his native language. All of these deal with Ita-
lian History in the 19th century and have a

196 HISTORY OF

world -w^ide significance. "Doctor Antonio"
(which I read at the age of 14 and have re-read
many times since) is a work which merits the
epithet "perfect." It was published in 1858 and
tells the story of Sicily's desperate struggles
from 1840 to '48. The character of Antonio is
incomparably beautiful and the love-story is
exquisite.

Learning that "Lorenzo Benoni" is the
author's autobiography, I have drawn this
sketch from it, and it seems to me I cannot re-
commend this book too highly. When w^e know
that "Fantasio" represents Mazzini, and when
in ''Caesar Benoni" w^e see Jacopo Ruffini, and
then read Mrs. King's splendid Poem, "The Dis-
ciples", we are carried away with an irrepres-
sible enthusiasm, a very ecstacy of homage and
veneration for such true manliness.

1825-1880.

CHAPTER XI.

The Moderns.

After the apparent failure of the French Rev-
olution and the passing away of Napoleon, a
new era was inaugurated. The power of action
had superseded the pow^er of the pen. Facilities
for producing books were greater than ever, but
the contemplative life necessary to the produc-
tion of ideas w^as wanting. Among the first of
modern seers stands Cesare CantH, 1805-1895.
The eldest of ten children, Cantii was edu-
cated for the priesthood, but accidentally be-
coming the confidant of two members of "Young
Italy", the young priest was arrested and im-
prisoned for tw^o years. It was during this
memorable time that he turned his attention to
literature and wrote the striking historical
novel "Margherita Pusterla." The success of
this venture paved the way for a literary career.
Of his colossal "Universal History" and his "Ita-
lian Heretics" much will be said by the histo-

198 HISTORY OF

rian. This colossal "Universal History" in 35
vols, is said to be the best work of the kind in
any language and brought its Publisher a for-
tune. But it is his "History of Italian Litera-
ture" that must absorb our interest, and I
cannot praise it more wisely than by giving a
thorough analysis of it in the next chapter.

Not only was there a host of patriotic poets
at this time, but also a vast number of men and
women who cultivated verse for more strictly
psychological reasons. Eminent among this
latter class was Caterina Franceschi Ferrucci of
Nardi, 1803-1887. She is spoken of as "an ar-
dent educator", and Cantft says "in the pe-
trarchian canzone she exhibited virile force."
This is very evident in " The Flowers and the
Stars", addressed to her son on his 20th birth-
day, a poem singularly happy in its union of
the delicate and the sublime. The flowers sym-
bolize the evanescence of mortal beauty and
earthly joy; the stars, the permanence of hea-
venly aspiration and serene faith. I give a
translation of the 5th stanza from

"I FIORI K I.E STEIiL,!:."

(5) "What, crime, what ill down here.

In secret corner hid,
Escapes, pure stars, your penetrating gaze?
The fiery blast, the furious wave unbid,
In agitations dread have hurled
This timid, trembling sphere.

ITALIAN LITERATURE 199

And all that was of life and beauty sapped.

How oft the frightened worid
Has changed its speech, its 'customed ways,

Its laws, its gods, its praise.
How many a naked corse in gorges wild.
And shivered spear the raging sea hath wrapped!

In the funereal light
Of shields and lances broken, pierced, defiled,

A stream of blood is seen to wind

And blight man's happiest days.
But through supernal fields, secure and bright

Tour course you follow unalarmed,
And as God first designed.
Your ray shines on undimmed, unharmed ;
No tear, no grief which here absorbs.
Disturbs your peace, ye shining orbs."

But this forceful lyric is almost thrown into
the shade by the great didactic poem, "I Cieli",
("The Heavens") of Caterina Bon Brenzoni of
Verona, 1813-1856. Opulent, eloquent, master-
ful, this is an unusual composition for the 19th
century. It is addressed to Mary Somerville,
and is an amazingly concise synopsis of her
grand contemplations, — the connection of the
physical sciences, the nature of the falling stars,
the spheroid Saturn, with its rings, band, sa-
tellites and revolutions; the two atmospheres
of the Sun; the caprices of the comets; the ne-
bulosae, the planets and the constellations. In
its w^onderful inclusiveness this poem embraces
a lively picture of the astronomer herself, a

200 HISTORY OF

striking quotation from Dante, a beautiful re-
ference to Galileo, glowing tributes to

" That intimate joy which at every increase
Of knowledge irradiates the intellect,
And is a slight pledge down here of that
Which in the breast of the immortals
Is rained eternally from Uncreated Light."

Though the poet regrets that the learned
Somerville does not enjoy the "perennial splen-
dor of Italian skies", she pays homage to "he-
roic Scotland", its brave sons, invincible warfare,
cerulean seas, virgin forests, and the ineffable
mystery of that dreadful and yet lovely mist,
of which the inspired Ossian had sung so elo-
quently.

Yet while this Poem exalts the praises of
sidereal splendors and immutable harmonies, it
throbs with constant references to man's im-
mortal soul, before which all physical magnifi-
cence fades into nothingness; and it ascribes all
glory for the creation and the preservation of
the Heavens to the personality of God alone.

"That great youngster of 41", as Marc
Monier called Giovanni Prati of Trent, at the
height of his fame, claims our interest from sev-
eral points of view. First, as a representative
of the Italian Tyrol, the popularity of his wri-
tings promoted the homogeneity of the penin-
sula. Secondly, the most popular of his poems,
"Edmenegarda", enshrines a tragic event in the

ITALIAN LITERATURE 201

family of Daniele Manin. Thirdly, though Pra-
ti's -writings glowed with his love of liberty,
Guerrazzi drove him out of Florence because he
was poet laureate at Turin. And, finally, Ed-
mond De Amicis compares one of the most pop-
ular Spanish poets of modern times, Don Jos^
Zorilla, to Prati, and says "both have the reli-
gious sentiment, passion, fecundity, spontaneity,
and a boldness which fires the youthful fancy."
How^ells gives excellent translations of "The
Midnight Ride", and "the Spy"; and Puccianti
selects the Sonnets "To God"; "To Ugo Fo-
scolo"; "To Luigi Carrer", and the blank-verse
description of "The Last Hours of Torquato
Tasso," all of which are very beautiful.

Manzoni had given the national poetry such
a powerful impetus towards religion, that all
the way on, down to Prati, we find this the
chief theme of the cult. *) As in all imitation,
the poetry of this period was fast degenerating
into artificiality and sentimentality, when a
mighty and complete revolution was efifected
by Giosue Carducci, the champion of a revived
classicism. Few are ignorant of the fact that
for the last 30 years Carducci has been the idol
of literary Italy. The idea that literature, and

*) This is true even of Giusti, whose "Trust in God'
is considered one of his best lyrics.

202 HISTORY OF

especially its highest expression, poetry, should
be made popular, came from "beyond the Alps."
Carducci rescued this treasure from popularity,
restoring it to that aristocratic intellectuality
■which is the genuine Italian's joy. *)

Born in Tuscany in 1836 and descended from
that ancient noble family which had given four
gonfaloniers to the Florentine Republic, Giosufe
Carducci was dedicated from earliest childhood
to a literary life by his intellectual father. As a
teacher, a public lecturer, a master of Art, of
Criticism, of History, above all, as a poet, his
w^ork has been recognized as supremely va-
luable. As a politician, ( and at one time a sen.
ator ) his course does not seem consistent, but
he has explained this to the satisfaction of his
compatriots.

We Americans owe a deal of gratitude to Mr.
Frank Sewall for his excellent translations of
typical "rime Carducciane." Juvenilia", (1857);
"Levia-Gravia", 1865; "DecennaU", 1871.
"Giambi ed Epodi", 1882; "RimeNuove", 1887,
"Odi Barbare", covering the period from 1877
to '87 are the titles of the great poetical collec-
tions which together with prose writings fill

*) Thia is the explanation of Leopardi's saying he
would not have wished to write the '■Promessi Sposi."
It was not an ugly spirit of detraction, but a horror of
popularity.

ITALIAN LITERATURE 203

the ten volumes recently published in Bologna,
where Carducci has been for many years a pro-
fessor in the University.

Mr. Sewall's translation of this Sonnet to
Homer will exhibit the wonderful chiseling of
Carducci's lines :

"And from the savage Urals to the plain

A new barbarian folk shall send alarms,

The coast of Agenorian Thebes again

Be waked with sound of chariots and of arms ;

And Bome shall fall ; and Tiber's current drain

The nameless lands of long deserted farms :

But thou like Hercules shalt still remain,

Untouched by fiery Etna's deadly charms ;

And with thy youthful temples, laurel-crowned,

Shalt rise to the eternal Form's embrace

Whose unveiled smile all earliest was thine ;

And till the Alps to gulfing sea give place,

By Latin shore or on Achaean ground.

Like heaven's sun shalt thou, O Homer, shine!"

And the culture of a life-time is revealed in the
Lines :

TO AUEOKA.
FROM THE ' ODI BAKBAEE '.
" Better pleased thee on Hymettus the nimble limbed,

[mortal huntsman,
Who with the buskined foot pressed the first dews of

[the morn.
The heavens bent down, a sweet blush tinged the forest

[and the hills
When thou, O Goddess, didst descend.
But thou descendest not ; rather did Cephalus drawn by

[thy kiss,
Mount all alert through the air, fair as a beautiful god, —
Mount on the amorous winds and amid the sweet odors,
While all around were the nuptials of flowers and the

[marriage of streams.

204 HISTORY OF

Wet lies upon his neck the heavy tress of gold, and the

[golden quiver
Reaches above his white shoulder, held by the belt of

[vermilion.
O fragrant kisses of a goddess among the dews !

0 ambrosia of love in the world's youth-time !

Dost thou also love, O Goddess? But ours is a wearied

[race ;
Sad is thy face, O Aurora, when thou risest over our

[towers,
The dim street-lamps go out ; and without even glancing

[at thee,
A pale-faced troop go home imagining they have been

[happy.
Angrily at his door is pounding the ill-tempered laberer.
Cursing the dawn that only calls him back to his bon-

[dage ;
Only the lover, perhaps, fresh from the dreams of the

[loved one.
His blood still warm from her kisses, salutes with joy,
Beholds with delight thy face, and feels thy cool breath-

[ing upon him.
Then cries, "O bear me, Aurora, upon thy swift courser

[of flame :
"Bear me up into the fields of the stars, that there, look-

[ing down,

1 may behold the earth beneath thy rosy light smiling ;
"Behold my fair one, in the face of the rising day.
Let fall her black tresses down over her blushing

[bosom."

Of course every student will want to know
the meaning of the "Barbarous Odes" just
mentioned. Aiming to produce the music of the
Latin metres with the short groupings of Ita-
lian rhythms, Carducci called this poetry bar-
barous, because such it would have appeared to
classic ears, from the absence of arsis and thesis.

ITALIAN LITERATURE 205

But if the form of these Odes removes them from
the reach of the unlearned, much more do their
contents make them inaccessible. We are rather
shocked upon being confronted by "Odes to Sa-
tan", until we discover that Satan simply re-
presents the best elements of pagan life as op-
posed to the dogmatism and the ecclesiasticism
which have done so much to mar the beauty
and truth of Christianity. But when a foreigner
and a Protestant finds the revered John Huss
and Luther ranked on the side of Satan, he is
repelled, not so much by the monstrous, as by
the ridiculous, aspect of the thing.

That the Carduccian poetry is intended only
for a favored few is attested still further by the
prevalence of the mythological element and by
vedic reminiscences; and a candid judgment
will value it ultimately for the polish of its
speech and the ripeness of its learning, rather
than for those spontaneous charms which we
are wont to call poetry.

As a literary critic Carducci has greatly en-
deared himself to his countrymen, as he has not
left unnoticed any portion of Italy's literary
history, and it would be only fair for us to di-
late upon these services. But the limits of this
work, as well as the marvelous versatility of
the Italians, will not permit us to be just.

An English critic styles Edmondo De Amicis,

206 HISTORY OF

born atOneglio in 1846, "incurably superficial."
But this is an indictment of our whole age, for
De Amicis is unquestionably one of the most
popular writers of the day. As he never professed
to be a philosopher, I cannot see the justice of
the accusation. Entertaining, charming, enli-
vening are epithets more in keeping with his
aims. Indeed the public - of France, England,
Germany and the United States as well as of
Italy — has not given De Amicis time to be pro-
found. Everything that he has written has re-
ceived such a royal welcome and brought him
so substantial a reward that he has had no
motive for changing thoughts or style.

This engaging writer, Ligurian by birth
and Piedmontese by abode, entered the army at
an early age, fought in the battle of Custoza in
1866, was sub-lieutenant in 1869, and took
part in the Conquest of Rome in 1870. Since
then he has given himself up to literature, vi-
siting many foreign countries in order to supply
the demand for his delightful books of travel.

Out of the 22 books by De Amicis I have
read "RaccontiMilitari"; "Spagna", and "Cuo-
re." The short stories composing the first-
named are pathetic incidents of military life,
some of them, as "II Mutilato," rising to a sub-
lime tenderness. As a book of travel "Spagna"
is both refreshing and stimulating. Of course, to

ITALIAN LITERATURE 207

a person of decided opinions and positive con-
victions it is amusing to find that De Amicis
hesitates to pronounce upon the moral charac-
ter of the Spanish Bull-Fight. But this aside,
his enjoyment of the beautiful scenery, the gor-
geous cathedrals, the grand palaces, the glorious
paintings, the modern literature, the exquisite
courtesy, the true democracy of Spain makes
the reading of his book a delightful and instruc-
tive recreation. As a result of all that he has
seen and known of Spain, he is "rather proud
of belonging to that poor Latin race, which is
spoken of now as a fit subject for the seven
plagues", and he goes on to say that he rejoices
that "more or less we Latin folk are all made
on the same stamp, and while we may accustom
ourselves by degrees to envy the stamp of
others, we shall never succeed in losing ours."

The third book, "Cuore", having passed
through nearly 200 editions in Italy alone, and
being w^ell known in this country, needs few
comments. In the American translation it is
called "An Italian Schoolboy's Journal", and it
gives such a perfectly natural and yet beautiful
picture of the gentle life of Italy, that it ought
to be read by everyone, young and old alike; for
it is exhilarating to find someone who does not
regard a boy as a species of wild animal. In
pure, manly, noble sentiments it would be hard

208 HISTORY OF

to find the equal of this book, and it is not too
much to say that it has not'been excelled.

Long, long before we take up the study of
this literature we are m^jde familiar with the
name of that princely scholar and accurate his-
torian, Pasqaale Villari, through the use that
has been made of his judgments by smaller in-
tellects. For when the w^orld finds itself abso-
lutely dependent upon a scholar, it forgets his
nationality and claims him as its own.

Born in Naples in 1827, during the revolu-
tion of 1848 Villari fled to Florence, and from
this centre of learning and civilization made the
Italian name honored among the nations. His
works are "Latin and English Civilization";
" Critical Essays "; " Art, History and Philoso-
phy", crowned by the tw^o great monographs,
"Savonarola and His Times"; " Macchiavelli
and His Times". It is his bold solution of the
two most enigmatical characters Italy has pro-
duced that has sealed Yillari's fame. Of Savo-
narola he concludes :

" It cannot be denied that he had the spirit
of an innovator; and indeed the main purpose
of our work has been to insist on this point.
Savonarola w^as the first to raise the standard
announcing the uprisal of the truly original
thought of the Renaissance at the close of the
great epoch of humanistic learning. He was the

ITALIAN LITERATURE 209

first man of the fifteenth century to realize that
the human racewafe palpitating with the throes
of a new life; and Ijlis words were loudly echoed
by that portion of jt.he Italian people still left
untainted by the ffi-evalent corruption. He ac-
cordingly merits the title of prophet of the new
civilization. Columbus discovered the paths of
the sea, Savonarola those of the soul; he endea-
vored to conciliate reason with faith, religion
with liberty. His work may be ranked with
that of the Council of Constance, of Dante Ali-
ghieri, of Arnaldo of Brescia; he aspired to the
reform of Christianity and Catholicism that has
been the constant ideal of the greatest minds of
Italy."

And Villari is even more satisfactory when
he concludes his History of Macchiavelli by de-
monstrating that "Macchiavelli's conception of
Italy's needs was essentially a true one. Italy
had become incapable of a religious reformation
like that accomplished in Germany. Instead of
springing towards God, as Savonarola had
predicted, instead of seeking strength in a new
conception of faith, she aimed at a recomposi-
tionof the idea of the State and the motherland.
She saw in the sacrifice of all to the universal
good, the only possible way of political and mo-
ral redemption. The unity of the rejuvenated
country w^ould have inevitably led to the re-

210 HISTORY OF

establishment of morality, would have kindled
faith in public and private virtue, and discover -
ed a method of sanctifying the purpose of life.
This idea, vaguely and feebly felt by many, was

the ruling thought of Macchiavelli At the

present day, when Italy's political redemption
is begun, and the nation is constituted according
to the prophecies of Macchiavelli, the moment
has at last come for justice to be done to him."

The decline or, rather, the metamorphosis of
the drama in every country except France is so
manifest that our expectations in this line are
not great. Yet when we find that 34- of the Co-
medies oi Tommaso Gherardi del Testa (1815-
1881) are still published, we are forced to in-
vestigate their claims. Without any philoso-
phical or social proposition, devoid of educative
scope, destined only to afford an hour of gaiety,
these Comedies are wonderfully vivacious, inno-
cent and clever. "Elastic Consciences", and "The
Cat goes so often to the pantry that she leaves
her claw^ there" are the two of these Comedies
that I have read, and it may be said in passing
that as they are written in polished Tuscan and
consist in spirited dialogue, they may be used
with advantage in the acquisition of the lan-
guage.

A much higher chord w^as struck by the Li-
gurian, Paolo Giacometti, 1816-1882, who, yet,

ITALIAN LITERATURE 211

might not have attained such celebrity had not
the great Salvini, the greatest actor of his age,
illustrated his skill. "La Morte Civile", i.e.
"Civil Death" (or "The Outlaw", as it was call-
ed in this Country when acted by Salvini in
1882) is an excellent specimen of Giacometti's
dramatic powers. Conrad, the husband of Ro-
salie, in a momentary passion has killed her
brother and is now a convict for life. Rosalie
and her daughter are taken into the home of
Dr. Palmieri, the child is adopted in the place of
his lost daughter by this noble philanthropist
and Rosalie is made her governess. It is agreed
that the frail child shall never know anything
of her real father. But after 14 years' impri-
sonment Conrad makes his escape and comes in
search of the child he so passionately loves. Ro-
salie, w^ho at first scorns and spurns him, agrees
to flee w^ith him into perpetual exile provided
he will promise not to make himself known to
the girl, Emma. Conrad gives this promise, but
overjoyed at obtaining this proof of love from
Rosalie, he begs her to tell him whether she haS
ever felt that she could love Dr. Palmieri. Ro-
salie's confession is the death-blow to a heart
already weakened by the cruel sufferings of the
galleys, homeless wanderings and frightful agi-
tations, and in the effort to leave his daughter

212 HISTORY OF

and go forth with his unloving wife, the outlaw
expires.

Few^ writers have portrayed the modern
vsroman more to the life than Giacometti in this
drama. Capable of any and all sacrifices, and
of that indisputable love w^hose essence is sa-
crifice, she is, before all, capable of a morality
that never flinches, and abnegates her persona-
lity. Thus she becomes the guardian of society,
the Nemesis of her own weaknesses. The con-
vict, on the other hand, is absorbed only in
personal, individual feeling; he has never ceased
to pour out his whole heart in self-forgetful
love, and when this is taken from him he must
die.

Pietro Cossa, of Rome, 1830-1882, occupied
a position midway between the dramaturgist
and the tragediografo. He has been called the
romantic poet of modernized tragedy . His plays
are all historical, such as "Nero", "Plautus",
"Messalina", "Ariosto and the Estensi", "Cola
di Rienzi", "Cleopatra". These are in blank
verse and have a literary value, as well as an
educative scope. In "Messalina", for instance,
this synonym for impurity is held under "the
w^hite light that beats upon a throne" until her
selfishness and cruelty revolt all hearts. There
is much diversity in this Play; a great deal that
is comic - in the literai"y predilections of Clau-

ITALIAX LITERATURE 213

dius, and in the by -play of those whose aim is
to outwit one another; and there is a beautiful
description of the rites of the early Christians
in the catacombs; while in the deaths of Messa-
lina.Silio and Bito justice is satisfied and virtue
vindicated.

But the drama properly so called would
have been in a hopeless condition at this period
had it not been for the vigorous efforts of Paolo
Ferrari (1822-1889) who was styled by accla-
mation "The restorer of the Italian theatre".
One single predecessor, Yincenzo Martini, late in
life, had roused the public by the aid of that
queen of the histrionic art, Adelaide Ristori,
who made her debfit in his "Woman of Forty".
And his "Cavaliere d'Industria" ("Fortune
Hunter") was winning Martini fresh laurels
when death cut short his labors. It was then
that Paolo Ferrari came forward to take the
first place in the Drama of the 19th century,
and for 40 years he held this post.

The comedies of Ferrari are grouped into
three classes. The first and greatest group is
that of the historical comedies, which in their
very titles show themselves creations. These
are : "Goldoni and his Sixteen New Comedies";
"The Historic Arm-Chair" (Vittorio Alfieri);
"Dante at Verona"; "Parini and the Satire";
"Fulvio Testi". Certainly it was a most ori-

214 HISTORY OF

ginal idea, nothing short of a brilliant intuition,
to bring these real personages on the stage and
half-reanimate their genius. Indeed no historian,
no artist, no painter has equalled the dramatic
vividness of Ferrari in these celebrated comedies.
The second group of the popular or Goldo-
nian comedies numbers "The Remedy of a Sick
Girl", and "The Codicil of Uncle Venanzio"
among its masterpieces. And the third group
consists wholly of Moral Dramas, idealizing the
family, — "that fountain of pure, honest joys",
and thus acquiring a bearing upon national life.

The novel of romanticism reached its apogee
at this time in "Angiola Maria" by Ginlio Car-
cano, 1812-1884, who w^ould deserve notice as
an original poet and a translator from the En-
glish and from the German, w^ere it not for the
supreme excellence of this one novel. For a
single w^ork of such strongly marked individua-
lity as this must and will affect every generali-
zation upon this age and nation. It is in direct
opposition in its moral perfection to all that
passes as proverbial of the Italians; and, after
all, it is not a single work, but simply the most
pronounced in a trilogy w^ith "Marco Visconti"
and "I Promessi Sposi."

The early and tragic death of Ippolito Niero
in 1861 undoubtedly deprived Italy of a bright
and shining light. His cyclic romance, "The

ITALIAN LITEKATUEE 215

Confessions of an Octogenarian" is an imagi-
nary autobiography, in which Nievo conducts
us from the close of the 18th century and the
life of the smaller Venetian cities to the tumul-
tuous years of '48 and '49, to the eve of the
war of independence, bringing before us Venice
in the last days of the republic, the cisalpine re-
public, the neapolitan province in 1799, the
siege of Genoa, the Italian Republic, then again
Venice and Naples and the life of the exiles in
London. The social and moral life of a genera-
tion is in this book, unfolded in a story full of
interest, of humor, of a profound philosophy of
life, of a large acquaintance with men, and all
this is the w^ork of a youth of 25 !

As a soldier, fighting w^ith Garibaldi in the
Valtellina and on the Stelvio, and participating
in the legendary expedition of "The Thousand",
as a poet, a critic, a journalist, a dramaturgist
and a novelist, Nievo accomplished enough to
make his name famous though he died before he
was thirty.

In these latter days Sicily has been rich not
only in Prime Ministers, but in many of the fore-
most w^riters of the day. It is w^ith this lovely
land that the name of Giovanni Verga is identi-
fied, both in nationality and as a depictor of
Sicilian life and manners. Verga, however, lives
in Milan, and in this literary center he holds

216 HISTORY OF

perhaps the highest place as the novelist of
realism.

The fame of Mascagni has totally eclipsed
that of Verga as the author of "Cavalleria Ru-
sticana",but as book-lovers it must be our part
to restore to him this praise. We can join hands
with those who admire "the sculpturesque effi-
cacy and rapidity in the delineation of the true"
w^hich mark this pathetic romance, as w^ell as
" Jeli il Pastore "; but in such stories as '' La
Lupa" ("The She-Wolf) and "Rosso Malpelo"
(Rogue Red-head) w^e find much that is re-
pugnant, as well as many indications of the
triumph of artistic fancy over realism.

The society story, "How, When and Why"
is an extremely witty satire on feminine weak-
ness, but it is a noteworthy fact that Verga
never depicts an admirable woman.

The critics may classify Antonio Fogazzuro
according to their own sw^eet will, but the im-
portant point will still consist in the fact that
Fogazzaro is a brilliant poet and the first of
living novelists.

Born just outside of Vicenza in 1842, Fogaz-
zaro lives in solitude among the Berici hills,
having an exquisite outlook over the fair coun-
try. He has published 15 volumes in prose and
verse, nearly all of which have passed through
five or six editions. "Daniele Cortis"; "Piccolo

ITALIAN LITERATURE 217

Mondo Antico"; "Piccolo MondoModerno" are
his most important novels. "Valsolda", "Eva",
"Miranda" are his Poems. These works have
been translated into German, English, Swedish,
Dutch and Russian. The novels, especially, are
marked first of all by a delicacy of feeling and a
refinement of taste which are in strong contrast
with the present standard. Fogazzaro has
show^n himself strong enough to resist French
and Russian influences and his purity and
strength attract all classes of readers. His best
qualities are exhibited in "Daniele Cortis."

Cortis is a young politician who believes in
the triumph of life, and of good over evil in the
supreme contest. In early youth he resolves to
devote himself to his country and the author
shows us how he works for her welfare until he
is elected to the Senate. He is a firm believer in
Christianity and in a free church in a free State-
sees that the rich must work for the poor far
more than the poor can ever work for the rich;
in short, Cortis is both by nature and grace a
veritable nobleman. His only family ties are
wth his widow^ed Aunt, the Countess Tarquinia
Carrd and her daughter Elena Di Santa Giulia.
This mother and daughter are so totally unlike
in their views and ideals of life that the Coun-
tess' relations with men have precipitated Elena
into a disastrous marriage w^ith a man old

218 HISTORY OF

enough to be her father. The Baron Di Santa
Giulia is a gambler, and Elena's loyalty compels
her to ask Daniele's assistance in rescuing him
from disgrace and imprisonment. The two
young people, Elena and Daniele, naturally
enough, fall very much in love with each other.
But they never dream of abandoning their posts.
And just here w^e must express our delight in
this note of modernity, as w^ell as for being at
last permitted to read about people in our own
rank. After many negotiations with the injured
parties and Elena's midnight w^alk in search of
her husband, the matter is at last "fixed up" by
the Baron's willingness to leave the country.
America has been named as the seat of exile, but
the poor Baron pleads so hard to be let off from
a destiny as dreadful as this, that Japan is sub-
stituted.

That Daniele and Elena are torn apart for-
ever does not afflict us inconsolably, for noth-
ing is so elating as the victory of reason over
passion, the vindication of the will's freedom
and the triumph of the right. There is no cant
or forced goodness in this book, but all is virile,
pure and exhilarating.

Fogazzaro's life is in perfect accord with
the sentiments expressed in his writings; being
based on the principle that life is ennobled from
within by its motive and aim, and not from

ITALIAN LITERATURE 219

without by its place and form. Hence he resists
all attempts to draw him from his country-
home, and finds perfect satisfaction in watching
over the affairs of Vicenza, where he holds ma-
ny little municipal offices.

Personality is so exclusively the theme of
this literature, that judging from it, we w^ould
hardly know that the Italians had any scenery,
or that they ever saw an animal. After search-
ing through whole libraries, I wrote to an Ita-
lian friend to askv(rhether any branch of Natural
Science had ever been so treated as to attain a
literary value. At last I discovered that Micbele
Lessona, (1823-1894) of our own day has re-
sponded to this demand. "A Natural History
for the use of Schools"; "Elementary Notions of
Zoology"; "Scientific Conversations" are dedi-
cated to the young. "While "The Sea, Aquaria",
&c.",and a fine translation of Darwin's "Origin
of Man" are addressed to the general public-
Lessona also distinguished himself as a teacher,
and wrote an able treatise on "The Will as
the Source of all Ability."

Of course, we have observed how many great
men of this country have excelled in Teaching, -
a profession not only noble, but divine. The Je-
suits as an order were zealous promoters of
education, and even the most prejudiced cannot
withhold from them this praise. There had

220 HISTORY OF

been none to theorize or generalize upon the art
of teaching, however, until Aristide Gabelli of
Bellano (1830-1891) appeared with his "Istru-
zione Italiana." This work as published in Bo-
logna in 1891 is enriched with a preface by
Pasquale Villari, giving an admirable summary
of its merits. Gabelli was a positivist in philo-
sophy, violently opposed to the abstract dispu-
tations of metaphysics; and hence, of course, he
advocated an experimental and objective me-
thod of teaching. But he does not seem to be
aware of the mighty revolution begun by Froe-
bel and the Germans, and his theories have no-
thing of their breadth and depth.

The dimensions of this History hardly permit
a mention of the tow^ering genius of Carlo Cat-
taneo, of Milan, 1801-1869. Yet today (July
23rd, 1901) thirty-two years after his death,
when the news comes to us across the w^ater
that a publisher has just been found to give
Cattaneo's complete works to the world, it
seems impossible to withhold this mention.

As a politician Cattaneo was as brave and
as unselfish as Garibaldi and Mazzini, and he,
too, was one of the "martyrs". But it is as an
original investigator in History, Ethnography,
Ethnology, Public Economy, Philosophy, Social
Science, Literature and Language that Catta-
neo ranks as "the greatest thinker of his age."

ITALIAN LITERATURE 221

No one has ventured to decide what ground his
inventive and reconstructive mind most splen-
didly illuminated. We consider him as an Ethno-
logist because the Lombard Professor of the
Lugano Lyceum stands alone in this depart-
ment.

Cattaneo's heart was as great as his head,
and he was a stern denunciator of that State
policy which he foresaw would make his beloved
Country a hotbed of anarchy and schism.

^iti^

CANTU AS A CRITIC.

To those who have followed me thus far the
name of Cesare Cantu is already familiar. As
my first native guide through the mazes of Ita-
lian Literature I shall always do homage to his
memory. But not only have I found in him a
faithful, conscientious, scholarly and able guide,
but an original thinker, a teacher of the most
beautiful morality, an artist in criticism, a
practical believer in revealed religion.

For one w^ho is familiar with the magnifi-
cent generalizations of Taine, the fascinating
subtleties of the Schlegels, the dispassionate
judgments of Hallam, the profound learning
and brilliant expositions of Gervinus, Macau-
lay, Sainte Beuve, Symonds and Sismondi, it
means muchto say that Cant^ is a prince among
critics.

Yet in his very conception of the mission and
office of literature I find the Italian rising head
and shoulders above many of his fellows. Not
only does he speak of it as "a priest-hood and a

ITALIAN LITERATURE 223

calling", an "art of civilization", "a master of
life, an expression of society", but with inflex-
ible fidelity he submits every work of impor-
tance to these lofty and heroic tests. "Writers
upon the fine arts", he says "should be studied
not only for their expositions, but for the inti-
mate connection between these arts and litera-
ture. The grand and profound, or tender and
pathetic ideas which are awakened in the con-
templation of man with his memories and his
hopes, with the God from whom he comes, with
the creatures among whom he lives, with the
future to which he directs himself, w^hether they
be expressed in prose or verse, on canvas, in
marble or with sounds, constitute poetry, which
consists in ideas and in the relations which the
mind establishes between objects. Hence the
fine arts, soaring above the material, live only
in ideas, in faith, without which there is no en-
thusiasm, and, wanting this, no poetry; upon
the decline of this w^e are brought back to empty
forms, childish plays, idolatry of self; the beau-
tiful is made to consist in the harmony of the
parts, of words, of colors, of limbs, of tones, not
in the accordance of these sensual beauties with
educated thoughts and living sentiments, with
noble conceptions of human dignity, of family,
of country, of religion. Understood in our sense,
literature, itself a fine art, is no longer a mere

224 HISTORY OF

delight, nor a noble recreation which unites the
useful with the pleasurable, but an exercise of
the noblest faculty of our being."

To Cantft truth changes not with time and
place, and human nature is the same in all ages.
The writers who cover a period of seven hundred
years are all arraigned before this bar of un-
changeable truth, as though they were contem-
poraries. He never alludes to the triumph of
environment over individuality, never refers to
the great dictum that "Art exists for Art's
sake ". His passion for morality is so intense
that he is not content to winnow the good out
of each work and consign the evil to oblivion :
each w^riter is judged by the drift and tendency
of his w^ork as a w^hole, and never in a single
instance is an author's work separated from his
character.

That we are approaching a revolution of
this kind in literary criticism no one can deny.
And there are reasons why an Italian should
lead the way in this direction. No other litera-
ture begins with such a writer as Dante, who
out of the fullness of his own faith erected a
standard of taste which has satisfied all nations
and all ages. And again, the Italians of the
15th and 16th centuries in their idolatry of
Latin literature completely exhausted its con-
tents, making an experiment for all time in the

ITALIAN LITERATURE 225

inanities to which they were reduced by their
devotion to form.

Cant& indeed cannot forget these facts; and
holding himself amenable to his own conscience
and nineteenth-century education, he pricks his
readers to the heart.

Of course his view of the national literature
is sad and saddening. There are but two writers
w^ho meet with his unqualified approval, — Dan-
te and Manzoni. Language hardly furnishes
him w^ith epithets strong enough for the denun.
ciation of Boccaccio, Cellini, Aretino, Bemi,
Macchiavelli, Ariosto, Marini, Frugoni and
Guerrazzi. He is most characteristic w^hen he
says: "When a man girds himself to write, let
him tremble at the consequences of his every
word. O how^ much infamy andjgrief Italy owes
to the thoughts of Macchiavelli ! From the jests
of Ariosto, w^ho overturns ideas of virtue, adores
force, bewilders reason, embellishes vice and fo-
sters voluptuous instincts, perhaps our country
draws more evils than it has ever suspected".
And not content with this in his text, he adds
in a foot-note : " It is not my habit to ask par-
don for telling the truth. Rather do I wish to
repeat how, some years since, I believed it my
duty to warn parents and teachers of the harm
to which they expose the young, by putting in
their hands that writer, who among ours is the

226 HISTORY OF

most perilous because the most beautiful. I stood
up against a burst of anger from teachers old
and ne\y, and there was one, who in the name
of Italy, defied me either to unsay or to ex-
perience in my own person the injury done to
the great poet. Miserable ones ! You bow down
to the idols of the beautiful; you celebrate the
slumbers and orgies of your country with boo-
bies. We perceive in literature a vocation, a
priesthood; we need, we must admonish the
young, to accustom them to tear themselves
from the beautiful when it is an enemy to the
good."

All of this is solemn and severe, provocative
of conscientious thinking and not likely ever to
be forgotten. Cantii proves himself a thinker by
his power to make others think. Valuing his
stern amdujicgmpromising judgments, I cannot
believe that the element of tinae ought to be ex-
cluded from the estimate of a literary master-
piece. Every work is to be judged by the stan-,
dards of the age in which it was produced.
How are our young people to perceive the
advance in the w^orld's morality but by a com-
parison of past works with present standards?
Are they to receive it on the authority of tea-
chers? Does not Cantd himself point out, indi-
rectly, that there ai-e gems of the beautiful in

ITALIAN LITERATURE 227

Ariosto which are yet to be distinguished from
their base setting?

This severity seems even more at fault in
Cantii's estimates of Petrarch, Tasso, Sarpi
and Alfieri. He believes in Petrarch's purity
and sincerity, but does not dwell upon his ele-
vating influence, nor value his rank as a poet.
His feeling towards Tasso borders on contempt
and can only be pronounced fanatical and un-
just. To Sarpi's magnificent erudition he is cold
and indifferent, deeming him "a rationalist
rather than a Lutheran or a Calvinist, who
venerated his own reason more than any autho-
rity whatever; and continued to seek for truth
without ever finding rest". But it is not until
he reaches Alfieri that his vial of wrath is fully
poured out. His introduction to the great tra-
gedian is singular, for he says :

"Educated in the independence of a patrician,
selecting his studies arbitrarily, Alfieri consumed
his youth in the errors of a man who is not
ordinary, but who yet has not found his own
fulcrum, and since to his activity neither his
-country nor the times offered vent, he cherished
a passion for liberty, but not a serious venera-
tion which accepts great abnegations, merely a
declamatory love of liberty, convulsive in acts,
at bottom abstract, as was then preached, and

228 HISTORY OF

united to all the passions and weaknesses of an
aristocrat."

This is indeed only an introduction, for he
goes on to tell us that Alfieri knew nothing of
the Drama, w^as utterly unacquainted wth the
Spanish theatre and with his two great German
contemporaries, Schiller and Goethe, only, in-
deed, reading Shakespeare in the bad French
translation, "whom he admired and then forgot
in order to remain original." "To compare Al-
fieri to Shakespeare", says Cantfi, "would be
to compare an algebraic formula to a living
person". And then letting loose a rancor w^hich
seems too intense to be less than personal, our
critic declares :

"If we could trust Alfieri's own assertion,
he did not even know the French masterpieces.
Yet the French from whom he had drawn both
his mode of thinking and his art, he despised
and execrated; he despised Rousseau, although
he copied him; he despised his predecessors; he
despised Italy; he despised the philosophers and
the incredulous, not less than the devout and
the ignorant; he despised the nobility from
whom he came and the common people from
whom he shrank; he despised both kings and
people, while from both he solicited favors; every
passion in him was converted into madness,
madness of study, madness of liberty, madness

ITALIAN LITERATURE 229

oif love; he despised the poor because they were
grasping, the kings of that age because they
were abject, the rich because they were stingy,
the Jesuits not more than the Jacobins; he found
in the French an innate vileness because they
did not kill Brienne de Lomenie, archbishop of
Toulouse, after dissolving the assembly of no-
tables; he hated the conquerors as much as the
conquered in the revolution; he hated without
love, without principle. And by means of con-
tempt and of bile he attained an energy, so
unlike the prevalent lassitude, that it passed for
originality."

Seldom do we encounter harsher criticism
than this, and never from a critic treating of a
compatriot who is his country's pride. Such
vehemence defaces the pages of a noble book and
defeats its own end, but at the same time it
vouches lor an unprecedented ardor in the search
for truth, a zeal which leads to martyrdom; and
it compels us, in repudiating it, to reexamine
the grounds of our own judgments.

"We find a partial explanation of Cantft's
attitude towards Alfieri, as also towards Sarpi;
in the fact that these two great men believed in
Protestantism. And Cantii's History of Lite-
rature is lull of his religious faith. He is a devout
Romanist, with a theory of life and a positive
belief in the Church as an organization. And

230 HISTORY OF

however much we may differ from him as to the
forms of his religion, we cannot but admire the
spirit which he exhibits as a truth-seeker, and
the absolute sincerity w^hich he displays in his
love to God and man. The thought of God is
his central thought, the love of God is his ab-
sorbing passion, and the name of God appears
on almost every page of his book. This love of
God, w^hich is the only true and genuine love of ,
man, atones for all the condemnations of our
critic, proving that they are not made in wan-
tonness, but proceed from the w^restlings of a
noble soul.

That Cantft can be a most impartial judge
is proved to our entire satisfaction. Speaking
of "the immense corruption" of doctrine and of
w^orks which characterized the famous cinque-
cento, he openly charges the ecclesiastical digni-
taries w^ith "immolating the truth", and says:
"Leo X. protects the outrageously immoral
w^orks of Macchiavelli, not excepting "The
Prince"; Julius III kisses Aretino, w^ho dedicates
the most infamous of his comedies to the Car-
dinal of Trent; another cardinal, aspiring to the

tiara, w^rites the "Calandra"; immoral,

obscene, homicidal compositions; but what
matter? They were beautiful and it sufficed; the
imagination was pleased, the reason blinded".
And again, he condemns the policy of the Church

ITALIAN LITERATURE 231

in subjecting literature to the censures of the in-
quisition", which forced the writers of that day
to cultivate the imagination rather than the
reason, and multiplied exiles and punishments,
no one then having any conception of that tole-
rance which reserves to God the judging of the
conscience, which in the man of a different belief
deplores the erring one, but always recognizes
the brother, the fellow-citizen, and unites all the
members of the family of Christ who have the
same sign on the brow."

As there is nothing but praise to be given to
Dante and Manzoni, it is more interesting to
dwell upon Cantu's attitude towards those
who are to be praised with some reserve. Of
these, he seems to me more favorable to Vico
and Monti than to any others, and his critiques
of these two gifted writers would alone awaken
enthusiasm and create a desire to study them.

Vico, he says, "involved himself in a gnarly,
tangled style, so that his contemporaries did
not pretend to understand him. But among so
many errors, which one of our writers calls "the
sublime somnambulism of genius", this un-
known man made marvelous conquests, and do-
minated by that melancholy which gives great-
ness, he made himself a contemporary of the
ancients, drove philosophy into fables, peopled
the antehistoric deserts with the children of his

232 HISTORY OF

thoughts, lording it over the present and the
future; and innovating the method of historical
research, which is his supreme merit, he was the
first to lay out history architecturally, as sub-
ject to a fixed law, to a sublime morality,
independent of nations and of time, and this
law was the object of his search."

Monti, he tells us, is to be condemned for
"that mania for popularity which has acclama-
tions for all the triumphant and hisses for all
the fallen, making itself an accomplice of all
violences as of all basenesses." And then in one
of his most beautiful outbursts, he begins again:
"But Monti was not an abject; his sin was the
fault of education. In the schools they had not
taught him that art must be sincere, inspired by
truth, the inspirer of virtue, but to care for
form, no matter Avhat was its foundation; to
prefigure to himself the beautiful with a merely
literary intention, without connecting art with
life. Monti as a youth had not had that critical
. moment, w^hen intelligence formed by tradition
bends over itself, examines with uneasiness,
changes, hesitates. Applauded at the first steps,
he did not doubt that the opinion of the many
was the true one and that he ought to foUow^
it."

Cantii's ow^n style is eloquent and finished,
and while he deplores the influence of the French,

ITALIAN LITERATURE 233

especially since the Revolution of '89, it is evi-
dent that he himself has been a zealous student
of French Literature and has caught much of
his felicity of expression from its master-spirits-

To our great regret Cantfi is not in sympa-
thy with "Young Italy", never mentions Gari-
baldi, Mazzini or Cavour, and openly declares
himself a neoguelfist. But such a litterateur as
Cantu cannot be either an ecclesiastic or a poli-
tician. Above all things am I delighted to find
the benign offices of literature triumphing here
over those of Church and State. I see in this
case a prophecy of a day when w^e shall have a
philosophy of literature, when in the very words
of this noble teacher,

"No one will prepare himself to write who
does not feel the beating of his heart increase
upon hearing of a beautiful action, w^ho has not
bew^ailed subjugated virtue, or experienced that
indignation against evil, w^ithout which there
is no love of good; who has turned in jest loyal
intentions or spoken lightly of that which man
holds most sacred, family, country, belief. The
true writer will divest himself as much as pos-
sible of his own idiosyncracies, and not expose
his own sentiments, his joy or his melancholy,
but will speak of the human race with universal
charity, devoid of exaggerated sentimentality;
he will enjoy the triumph of the just cause, but

234 HISTORY OF

with simple dignity; suffer with the virtuous,
but be tranquil; not intent upon making a sa-
tire or a panegyric; he does not make bare the
errors of a people in order to depreciate its ge-
nius, nor w^ish to deny the errors because dazzled
by its greatness. If believing in goodness and
generosity, if right of heart, if worthy to speak
of rights because duties have been fulfilled, he
then undertakes to write, dead accidents will be
made to live by virtue of their moral spirit, re-
vealing that whatever happens tends to virtue,
the end of the universe, although not always
visibly so."

1850-1900.

CHAPTER XII.
Our Contemporaries.

The living authors of Italy are not on trial.
So nobly are they sustaining the intellectual
traditions of their illustrious land that, instead
of representing, as we might suppose, a country
exhausted and crushed by its innumerable sor-
rows, they bear its banner in the front ranks of
the w^orld's writers.

While the air of this period is dense with
names and with books in every department, this
is especially so in the field of criticism. Besides
the critics and historians of literature already
mentioned, I have followed Paolo Emiliani Giu-
dice 1812-1872; Pio Rajna, 1849; Professor
AdolfoBartoli of Florence, 1833-1894; Giuseppe
Puccianti of Pisa; Yittorio Ferrari of Milan,
1852; and Francesco De Sanctis of Morra in the
Principato Ulteriore, 1818-1888.

Cantii died bewailing the fact that Italy had
not produced a first-class critic. But Messrs.

236 HISTORY OF

Gayley & Scott in their "Methods and Materials
of Literary Criticism"!) pay repeated homage
to De Sanctis as one who has answered all the
philosophical and psychological requirements
of the most advanced Modern Criticism. Three
great works, "The History of Italian Litera-
ture", "Critical Essays", and "New Critical
Essays" embody the judgments of De Sanctis,
which are more brilliant than Carducci's, but
less profound.

Giuseppe Giacosa, born in Piedmont in 1847,
has the proud distinction of being named with
Fogazzaro as among the few who still have a
real faith and a persistent ideality. Italy, like
other countries, has been influenced by the lb-
sens and the Maeterlinks, who "see pink and red
winds and have green thoughts". But it would
be rash to say she has no national theatre, in
the face of the glowing review^s of "Come le Fo-
glie."

In this drama, which was first represented
at the Manzoni theatre in Milan on January
31st, 1900, Giacosa shows us a m odern family, -
the ruined father, w^ho has hitherto thought his
whole duty performed in making money for his
family; the weak, self-absorbed step -mother,
who paints pictures ostensibly to support the

1) Published by Ginn of Boston in 1899.

ITALIAN LITERATURE 237

family, but really to have an artist lover; the
-worthless brother, Tommy; the bewildered, but
sweet, sister, Nennele, - all are falling from a
state of well-being " as the Leaves " fall to the
ground in autumn. They are rescued by a cous-
in, Massimo Rosani, who has found in honest
labor the solution of life's problems. He gives
his Uncle work, pleads with Tommy, whom,
yet, he cannot save, and falling in love with the
sweet Nennele, asks her to be his wife. There is
a complete overturning of the false conception
that life consists in the abundance of the things
possessed, and there is the erection of a true
standard of simple living and noble feeling. It
speaks well for the country that this Play has
been received with unbounded enthusiasm.

The love of children was "brought to light"
by the Gospel, and now we measure the civiliza-
tion of nations according to the extent tow^hich
childhood is honored by them. In literature for
the young Italy has been far behind other na-
tions. She has had no Hans Christian Ander-
sen, no Perrault, no Fenelon, no Oliver Optic,
not one of that host of men and women who in
England have labored unremittingly in writing
beautiful stories for children. But now^, besides
that notable book "Cuore", two others have
awakened deep interest.

The first of these is "A Family of Mice" by

238 HISTORY OF

the Contessa Lara. It is a revelation of exqui-
site refinement, a charming picture of home life,
a story which turns not only on the maxim,
"Be good to the lowly", but on being good to
the disgraced; this last injunction being made
with the firm, yet delicate and unobtrusive,
touch of the artist. For the father mouse is out
of favor with his master and is being beaten
when the Sernici children insist on the purchase.
The tender sympathy for animals, the noble
Count Sernici, the lovely mother, the vivacious
children make us long to know the author of
this book.

Eva Cattermole Mancini, whose father was
a Scotch baronet and her mother a Russian
noble, w^as born at Cannes and educated at
Paris. Marrying an Italian, and making the
only home she ever knew on Italian soil, she has
written for publication only in this language.
Her Verses and Sketches have achieved a tre-
mendous success, yet she herself preferred "Una
Famiglia di Topi" to any of her writings. Her
pictures reveal a singularly beautiful face, and
both face and form are dominated by an ideal
grace.

The second of these story-books is "I Ra-
gazzi d'una Volta e i Ragazzi d'Adesso", The
Children of Old Time and The Children of To-
day", by the Marchesa Colowbi. If we had just

ITALIAN LITERATURE 239

reached the conclusion that humanity flourishes
best under aristocratic conditions, we must
modify this judgment after an acquaintance
with the dear old Grandfather of these children.
As the story of his young days, - austere, sub-
missive, uncomplaining, - is unfolded side by
side with the enervating self-indulgence, the pe-
tulance, the querulousness of modern youth, we
are made to see the pettiness of the external life
and the dignity of the humblest career that is
based on principle. Yet there is a wealth of hu-
mor in this book, - for instance, the annecdote
of the boy who in his passion to learn to play
the flute climbed a tree and watched the motions
of a little lord and his master. Upon the irate
little lord's throwing his flute from the window,
our enthusiast flops from the tree after it, brea-
king his leg. The noble family, the master and
the boy's relatives are awe-struck by this ex-
hibition of genius, and almost quarrel over the
privilege of paying for his lessons. But in spite
of all eflforts, the would-be virtuoso never suc-
ceeds in playing more than two tunes.

"I Ragazzi d'una Volta" has been very po-
pular in Europe, having been translated even
into Hungarian. The MarchesaColombi, whose
real name is Maria Torriani, is a Piedmontese
writer and was born at Novara in 1859. She is
now the wife of Eugenio Torrelli-Viollier, to

240 HISTORY OF

whom Giacosa has dedicated his Play, "Come
le Foglie". She has written 20 novels and has
been brilliantly successful as a writer.

While such wise counsels are given the chil-
dren of Italy as these of Contessa Lara and
Marchesa Colombi.we refuse to follow the dole-
ful prognostications of Ren6 Bazin and W. J.
Stillman.

It is the proud boast of our age that eve-
ryone is now^ an appreciator and an admirer of
Dante. Mazzini had said, "O Italians, study
Dante! not in commentaries, not in glosses, but
in the history of the age in which he lived, in his
life, in his works." And this advice has been
adopted, and the literature of the 19th century
is a monument to this Dantesque culture.

Hence in inquiries about the later Dantisti it
is necessary to set bounds to our zeal. I can
only say that my chapters on Dante in this
work are based upon a careful study of Pietro
Fraticelli, who seems to have lived in Florence
from 1803 to 1866, and to be held in highest
repute as a faithful and reliable expositor of the
unrivaled Poem.

And more from hearsay, than from personal
acquaintance, I know that G. S. Scartazzini has
thrown much light on the "Divina Commedia",
and that as a master of German, English and
Italian he has acquired a cosmopolitan renown,

ITALIAN LITERATURE 241

and that his death on Feb. 2nd, ISOO, at the
age of 64, has been widely and grievously la-
mented.

The glory of having originated a new Science
belongs to Cesare Lombroso, born in 1836, and
for many years a Professor in the Royal Uni-
versity of Turin. This new Science is Patholo-
gical Psychology. It is applied to two distinct
researches; that of influences exercised on mani-
festations of genius by psychologic or pathologic
conditions, congenital or hereditary; and that
of criminal psychology. Lombroso has been an
untiring student, teacher and writer. Among
his many works are " The Criminal ", "Genius
and Madness", "The Man of Genius", "Thoughts
and Meteors". The iiovelty of his conjectures
drew^ men to him at once, and his disciples have
been many and famous.

Lombroso's contributions to psichiatry have
been in the province of abnormality, and all
nations have profited by his masterly definitions
of atavism and crime. His study of Genius, on
the other hand, has not been helpful, as it is
marred by the bias and warp of the specialist,
and in this he has been ably controverted by
Giovanni Bovio (1841).

Educated in the school of Carducci, but with
a mind and purpose of his own, Giovanni Pa-
scoli, born in Romagna in 1855, has achieved

242 HISTORY OF

fame as "a serene optimist". Realism as the end
and scope of art having invaded even the close
of the Poet, Pascoli has shown no little strength
of individuality in striking out into a new and
w^ell-defined path of idealism. His verse is rich
in an exquisite and cinquecentistic classicity,
but it is also full of hope and faith and love,
abounding in a generous humanitarianism. In
"Myricae" the artist is uppermost and the lati-
nist is never out of sight. But in the "Poemetti"
the "comfortless vision of the present" gives
w^ay before the goodness and ardor of this one
mind. Pascoli's enthusiasm is contagious as he
sings of the sweet, pure, poetic joys of country
life, and in "The Two Children" and "Ginevra's
Prison" he elevates us to a moral height which
is actually utopistic.

The reading public of today is not scholarly.
Hence it has hailed a king in Gabriele D'Annun-
^io, born in 1864 at Franeavilla-al-Mare, whose
enchanting use of words is undeniably captiva-
ting to Italians and whose audacities have an
inebriating effect upon foreigners. Known in this
prosaic country as a novelist, D'Annunzio is at
home known chiefly as a poet. He has published
5 Volumes of verse and endowed the national
Poetry with the metrical enrichment of the Ri-
ma nona. As the adorer of plastic beauty,
especially in "Canto Novo", "Isotteo"and "The

ITALIAN LITERATURE 243

Chimera", D'Annunzio aims^to^securejtlie tri-
umph of a refined sensualism. In "Praises of
Sky and Sea" there is extravagance and artifi-
ciality. But in the "First and Second Naval
Odes", and in theCanzoni to Verdi and to Gari-
baldi, D'Annunzio w^ins true and worthy laurels.
When Mr. Hammerton suggested that the
Conquest of the Two Sicilies by Garibaldi was
a perfect subject for a heroic poem, there w^as
much buzzing and whispering among English
authors. Happily a native poet has been the
first in the field, and should D'Annunzio live to
complete the seven parts of his Epic he will no
doubt win undying fame. The Third part, "The
Night of Caprera," was read by the author at
the Royal Palace of Turin on Jan. 25th, 1901.
It was received with storms of applause and a
fascinating synopsis of it has been given by Vit-
torio Ferrari. The most available specimens of
D'Annunzio' s verse (translated by Thomas
Walsh) are: "To an Impromptu of Chopin"
and "India."

TO AN IMPEOMPTU OF CHOPIN.
" When thou upon my breast art sleeping,

I hear across the midnight gray —
I hear the muffled note of weeping,

So near — so sad — so far away !
All night I hear the teardrops falling —

Each drop by drop — my heart must weep ;
I hear the falling blood-drops — lonely,

Whilst thou dost sleep — whilst thou dost sleep."

244 HISTORY OP

INDIA.

"India — whose enameled page unrolled

Like autumn's gilded pageant, 'neath a sun
That withers not for ancient kings undone

Or gods decaying in their shrines of gold—

Where were thy vaunted princes, that of old

Trod thee with thunder — of thy saints was hone
To rouse thee when the onslaught was begun,

That shook the tinseled sceptre from thy hold !

Dead — though behind the gloomy citadels
The fountains lave their baths of porphyry ;

Dead — though the rose - trees of thy myriad dells
Breathe as of old their speechless ecstasy ;

Dead — though within thy temples, courts, and cells.
Their countless lamps still supplicate for thee."

To which I add my own translation of one
of the noblest of his vaguer sonnets.

EROTIC AND HEROIC.

Enslaved, the soul foregoes its pristine dower

And plunges into lassitude profound

(While as from some impenetrable wound

Its every vigor lessens hour by hour,)

When suddenly the mem'ry of a power

Eemote, a life once craved and sought and found.

Heroic struggle, love without a bound.

This soul with agitations will devour.

And then what waves of weariness and shame

Sweep o'er me, knowing that my youth I've yoked

To ruin, life of all its glory shorn.

Straightway my rebel soul leaps in the flame

Of all the cruel phantasms thus evoked

And rages as it vents its gen'rous scorn.

As a novelist D'Annunzio has produced "The
Innocent", "The Triumph of Death", "The

ITALIAN LITERATURE 245

Virgins of the Rocks", "Fire". His comedies are
"Glory"; "A Spring Morning's Dream"; "The
Dead City". He has had a seat in the Chamber
and is welcomed in Rome, not only because of
his notoriety beyond the Alps, but for his sin-
cere love of Italy.

"The Triumph of Death" has been widely
read in English dress, and, shorn of its own
bewitching garb, presents a most repulsive ap-
pearance. It does, indeed, seem a rather unneces-
sary reiteration of the truth that "the wages of
sin is death". Death, violent, horrible, inflicted
mutually (since Giorgio in attempting to throw^
Ipolita over the precipice is himself carried over
by her revengeful efforts) is all that either of
these lovers deserves. We do not find ourselves
at all affected by their demise, as is the ciise
when a pure and lovely hero or heroine perishes.
These two persons are so bad that we feel they
ought to be annihilated. But this is not all. The
author is not only able to dwell at length upon
the impurity of his characters, but reveals
(w^hether consciously or unconsciously we know^
not) his own bias in the same direction. This is
by far the worst feature of the book. The story
can hardly be called pernicious, since it contains
such an impressive moral. No one would want
to become as miserable as Giorgio or as empty.

246 HISTORY OF

headed as Ippolita. The stoiy tells itself in spite
of the author.

There is a grim humor in many of the situa-
tions depicted. The horrible ennui suffered by the
lovers when they realize their dream of getting
away from everybody and settling down to
enjoy each other is finely drawn. Ippolita had
written Giorgio that one element of their bliss
would be the mutual revelation of their every
thought; but soon after they were domicil-
ed, Giorgio discovered that Ippolita had no
thoughts. The fact that Ippolita disenchanted
Giorgio by putting a slimy insect down his neck
is, likewise, very funny. The author's sympath-
ies are all with his hero, and he offers woman
the very same insults offered her by Boccaccio,
Bandello and Cellini. But while D'Annunzio
makes a fine psychological analysis of his hero,
demonstrating to our entire satisfaction that a
man with such a nature could never be happy
for a moment, he makes no attempt to analyze
his heroine. It is universally acknowledged that
w^oman's nature is more complex than man's,
and it seems well nigh impossible that any
woman could be as homogeneous as Ippolita.

The one charm of this third or fourth class
novel is the literary style. In the analysis of
Wagner's Opera of "Tristan and Isolde" the
Italian is incomparably beautiful, and there are

ITALIAN LITERATURE 247

many captivating little tricks of speech through-
out the book. But its sadness is appalling. There
is not a crumb of comfort for the superstitious
sufferers of Casalbordino, not a ray of hope for
the disappointed lovers. The philosophy of the
book is materialistic and degrading. It must
be acknowledged, however, in extenuation of
its shameless sensualism, that all Southern na-
tions look upon physical and sensual subjects
from a point of view unknown to Northerners;
w^e should never have had any plastic art if the
body had not been an absorbing theme of inte-
rest to the Greeks and the Italians.

An indisputable artist, and by many consi-
dered the greatest among the living poetesses,
is Vittoria Aganoor, a Yeneto-Armenian both
"in blood and sentiment," who as a pupil of the
celebrated Abate Zanella 1) has entered upon
her career with favor. Her "Leggenda Etema,"
published in 1900, reveals the classic elegance,
the profound culture of the scholar, and even
the passion, the concentration and the clear
vision of the poet reflect a temperament essen-
tially and thoroughly aristocratic. In the
"Horses of St. Mark's", - a rapid and vivid re-

1) Giacomo Zanella of Chiampodel Vicentino ( 1820-
1888), a very prolific and immensely popular lyrist. "The
Parish Priest" and the "Vigil of the Wedding" are very
pretty, and his translation of the "Graves of a House-
hold" is good.

248 HISTORY OF

view of the tragic fate of Venice, - Aganoor's
best qualities are seen to advantage.

But Ada Negri, in a truer sense than as ap-
plied to Berenger, is the "people's poet," the
poet of the social revolution \(rhose open, undis-
guised and constant aim is social, political and
financial equality.

Ada Negri was born at Lodi in the humblest
circumstances and was brought up by a widow-
ed mother. At 18 Ada was sent to be the teach-
er of a primary school on the flat bank of the
Ticino, stranded there w^ith no companionship
but that of her own genius. In this she never
lost faith, and when her two volumes of lyrics
appeared, "FatalitEl" in 1893 and "Tempeste"
in 1896, the reading world at once recognized
that genius.

Never has the cause of the oppressed been
transfigured and idealized more eloquently than
by this gifted young Lodigian. The strikers, the
abject, the sinful and the conquered have found
their champion in Ada Negri.

The marvellous strength of her language is

seen in the opening stanzas of "Tempeste",

where in her dedication, "A Te Mamma", she

says :

" 'Tis true, I'm strong ; ~ I've strewn the stony way
With fragments of a faith and might untold ;

And with a mien as bold
Upward I go still towards the shining day.

ITALIAN LITEKATUKE 249

I've bared this breast of miDe to all known woes,
The deadliest, darkest hatreds I've defied ;

A hundred souls have died
Opposing griefs as torturing as those.

No lamentation from my lips has passed,
Nothing has bowed my forehead and my thought ;

I have the strength I sought.
I am the oak that bends not in the blast."

An unexpected vitality is also found in her
love poems, which are as impassioned as any in
this literature, and are well represented by the
lines entitled :

NOT TO EETUBN.
"To return never more. It stays beyond the seas.
It stays beyond the mountains. Our love has been killed.
It tortured me too much. And I have trodd'n it down,

Its face now is torn as I have willed.
I've bitten it. Oh! I have reduced it to mere shreds,
Yes, I have killed it, there ! Now it is still at last.
'Tis silent. Now more slowly through these veins can run

The blood that was surging there so fast.
Now I can sleep at night ; I need no longer weep
While sorrowfully calling thee. O what great peace !
In vistas of shadows, a quiet without end.

My soul knows the sweetness of release.
Forgetting all, 'tis weaving its most cherished dream.
The renouncing of our love ; it must not return.
As I once knew how to love, blind and cold, I seek

To know now to hate thee and to spurn.
I wish to hate thee for those first fresh lovely years,
"When I immolated all for thee and thy gain.
For my poor lost youth that passed without caresses.

And for thee was sacrificed in vain.
But hating, one suffers ; one must weep if she hates.
And not far away, but before me thou wouldst stand,
And I must Imprecate thee. No, my strength is gone,

I cannot respond to this demand.

250 HISTORY OF

I ask but for silence, - a long unbroken rest,

Stop that feeble groaning in my heart, faint and low ;

There's a voice that complains, a sufferer's, I think.

It seems the upbraiding of a foe.
That voice is oppress'd by a trouble that's immense,
A crushing weight of sorrow issues in that cry.
It agonizes now and it asks me for aid.

And pleads that it does not want to die."

Among the younger poets is Etntnanuele
SeT/a, agrandson of the distinguished statesman.
His poem, "My Dream", is marked by a veri-
similitude which is wonderful, and his familia-
rity not only with English and English authors,
but w^ith the Italian mediaevalists — from Gui-
nicelli to Cino da Pistoja - must endear him to
the literary.

I regret that I can say nothing of the great
army of dialect poets, w^ho, according to the
verdicts of some critics, have the future of Ita-
lian literature in their keeping. The lack of dic-
tionaries, glosses, teachers and importers wU
account for this omission.

As has been intimated, it is in deference to
foreign standards of taste, rather than from any
native bias, that the Italians write novels. It is
a common saying among critics that Italy fail-
ed to acclimatize the pure romance and the
novel of manners, passing at one bound from
the historical to the realistic novel. If there is
one exception to this rule, it is in the novels of
Anton Giulio Barrili, which certainly cannot

ITALIAN LITERATURE 251

come under any other head than that of ro-
mances.

This interesting author of about 60 books, -
novels, comedies, verses, critical studies, - brilli-
ant and genial effusions, was bom at Savona in
1836. He was in the volunteer, the regular, and
the Garibaldian army. But as he had begun life
as a journalist, when war was over he resumed
w^riting. I have only read one of his innumerable
romances, — "The Eleventh Commandment",
which was lively enough to support me through
the hardships of a long sea-voyage.

Disputing the palm with Fogazzaro, as lea-
ding novelist of Italy, Matilde Serrao claims
our deepest interest and attention. She was
bom in the town of Patras in Greece, her father
being one of the Neapolitan exiles in that Coun-
try. Her mother w^as a woman of extraordinary
culture and her first teacher was Paolina Bo-
nelli, a descendant of the princely house of Sca-
naiy.

Matilde Serrao started out in life as a self-
supporting woman in a lithograph establish-
ment. It was not until she was 22 that her
literary life began, and then it was in the form
of short stories for Neapolitan Papers, for she
had now returned to her father's native land.
A rapid and brilliant success in real journalism
was followed by a return to fiction, and "The

252 HISTORY OF

Hurt Heart", "The Blue Page", "Fantasy",
"The Conquest of Rome", "The Mystery of Na-
ples", and "The Girl's Romance" established
her position, so that, when in a journalistic dis-
cussion she drew down upon her head the an-
tagonism of Eduardo Scarfoglio, he found a
foeman worthy of his steel. His violent attack
upon her and her works ended in an offer of
marriage, and to-day Matilde Serrao is the
happy mother of five children.

Among the most popular of her later works
(and they are numerous) are "Piccole Anime",
"Little Souls", and "II Paesedi Cuccagna", and
I am unfortunate enough to have sent for these
just at a time when 5th and 6th editions of
them are exhausted. This last named work,
"The Land of Delight", a story of the Neapoli-
tan lottery, is said to be the one of her w^orks
in which she shows "a truly virile power" and
deserves to be called "The George Sand of Italy."

"Thirty Per Cent" is one of Serrao's latest
stories, and this also deals with the Neapoli-
tans' passion for gambling and awakes our
tenderest pity for the victims of the madness.
But of all her writings w^ithin reach I prefer
"Sentinel, Be on your Guard", in which we are
carried up on the heights to breathe Heaven's
own pure air in more senses than one. There is
more psychology in two pages of this book

ITALIAN LITERATURE 253

than in whole volumes of the so-called psycho-
logic school. It is sad, for it is a picture of life
among the convicts on the rocky isle of Nisida,
near Naples. The exquisite scenery, the inten-
sity of the author, the vividness of the descrip-
tion, all go to make this an all-absorbing book.
Rocco Traetta, a working man of Naples, in
the flash of one moment's passion has commit-
ted paricide, and is taken to this prison-home
above the blue waters of the Mediterranean,
whose security consists in the fidelity of innu-
merable Sentinels. Captain Gigli is in charge of
this prison, and, with his brother-officers, has
his home and his wife and his child among the
convicts. But Cecilia Gigli has never been able
to overcome her terror and her hatred of the
prisoners, and her little son, Mario, is affected
both in body and mind by her profound me-
lancholy. The one joy of Rocco Traetta's life is
the care of this morbid, but lovely little child.
And when the child dies and the crazed mother
insists that he shall at least rest in his grave in
Naples, apart from the convicts, the un usualness
of the proceedings permits a Sentinel to be one
instant off his guard, and in that instant Rocco
Traetta, whose heart is broken by the child's
death, plunges headlong over the cliff and is
dashed in pieces on the rocks below.

The beautiful character of Captain Gigli is

254 HISTORY OF

the feature of this book. His Christian fortitude,
his strength, his gentleness, his burning patrio-
tism on receiving the newrs that Venice is free,
in a Avord, his unobtrusive, but subhme good-
ness brings tears to our eyes, and it is some
time before vv^e can control our thoughts enough
to remember that it is to the author, and not
to the man himself, that -wre are rendering this
homage.

While we have all been made to believe that
fiction should nov^r be looked upon as applied
psychology, in no field is the step between the
sublime and the ridiculous so short as it is here.
The psychologic realists take themselves so se-
riously that it is not necessary for anyone else
to do so. Eminent among them is Federico De
Roberto, born in Naples in 1861. The vsrorks
that havecome from his pen are: "Arabesques",
"Fate", "Illusion", "The Vice-Kings", (a rare
specimen of the novel of manners in this litera-
ture), a critical Essay on Leopardi and a study
of "Love."

"The Vice-Kings" of Federico de Roberto is
a noteworthy contribution not only to the Fic-
tion of to-day, but to the History, the Sociology
and the Philosophy of the Century. For this
book is the reconstruction of a state of society
which is all unknown to the outside w^orld.
This picture of aristocratic life in Sicily from

ITALIAN LITEEATTJEE 255

1854 to 1879 is something so new, so astoun-
ding, so bewildering, that it must uproot even
the prejudices of those who expect Italy to keep
pace with England.

We are ushered at once into the presence of
16 persons, and the author is so entirely out of
sight in this book that he simply seems to be
putting down the thoughts of these people.
They scrutinize and analyze themselves, as it
were. The Princess of Francalanza, Teresa Uze-
da, has just died, and now everything is to turn
upon the reception of her last Will and Testa-
ment. Sh? has been the head of the Vice-Kings,
who came from Spain to Sicily with the first
Spanish conquerors, and since the death of her
husband she has ruled the whole family-connec-
tion with a rod of iron. Primogeniture has full
sway in this family, but the Princess hated her
oldest son, Giacomo, and makes her favorite
Raimondo, the fourth and youngest son, co-heir
with the first-born. The second son, according
to the family custom, has been shut up in the
Monastery of San Nicola, the richest institution
not only in Catania (where the scene is laid)
but in all Sicily. The oldest daughter, likewise
has been incarcerated since she was six years
old at the Abbey of San Placido. The third son,
Ferdinando, has been persuaded to make a
hermit of himself with the bribe of a small and

256 HISTORY OF

valueless estate so that he need not be mention-
ed in the Last Will. The second daughter, Chiar
ra, has been forced to marry against her will
because a suitor presents himself who is willing
to dispense with a dowry. The youngest daugh-
ter, Lucrezia, has been told from earliest child-
hood that her rSle will be that of old-maid
Aunt. Then there are Margherita and Matilda,
the respective wives of the two married sons,
and their children, and also three Great-Uncles
and an Aunt, all unmarried. The incessant,
violent, shameless wrong-doings of this princely
family, all the while observing the strictest
forms of etiquette and good breeding, give us a
strange picture. Their ignorance is incredible,
their superstition most pitiful. Arrogance, self-
will, and self interest prompt their every action.
Obstinacy is the family characteristic. The se-
crets of the sumptuous Monastery , whose
w^ealth and magnificence are described in detail,
are infamous.

Into this old, effete, corrupt society suddenly
comes the new^s of Garibaldi's conquest and the
imminence of democracy. One of the great -
Uncles seizes the opportunity and has himself
elected to a public office, becoming Deputy and
enriching his fallen fortunes by his patriotic
zeal. Another of the Uncles first edits the He-
raldry of the genuine old families, atid when the

ITALIAN LITERATURE 257

■wind of fortune turns he turns with it and edits
the Heraldry of the parvenus.

It is all a very sickening picture of colossal
selfishness until we come to the time when the
children, Consalvo and Teresa, leave school and
begin to play their parts. Up to this the author
is a bitter satirist and betrays not the slightest
sympathy with his characters. But in spite of
himself he draws a very lovely picture of the
young Teresa Uzeda. A passionate desire for
the approbation of those she esteems has been
the guiding star of Teresa's life. Of course it is
impossible for her to marry anyone but a cous-
in. Now, as fate will have it, there are two
cousins, the duke and his younger brother, the
baron : of course Teresa falls in love •with the
w^rong one, the baron, who likewise loves her.
The storm of excitement raised by this is short
however, for her leading principle enables the
fair Teresa to submit and marry the duke. Later
in life the baron, who has always had a ten-
dency to madness, comes home with an illness,
from which Teresa alone rescues him. They fall
in love again. Teresa, who now has two beau-
tiful children, shows him the impossibility of
any change, and while she is watching at the
bedside of her dying father, the baron shoots
himself. Teresa continues to grow more and
more devout and seems to be the sport of the

258 HISTORY OF

author, as well as that of her sceptical brother
Consalvo. But she is really at peace with her
conscience, with the world and with her Maker,
and, as I have said, she is a character that the
author should be proud of.

Consalvo, when first let loose from the hated
thralldom of the Novitiate, runs into every kind
of excess and leaps over every human and divine
law by virtue of belonging to the Vice-Kings.
His father finally sends him off to travel, and his
eyes are opened to the narrow, cramped life of
the old regime and the wide scope for the most
enjoyable activities presented by the new^ poli-
tical order of things. He returns home, buys up
whole libraries, studies day and night, presents
himself as a candidate for political office in his
native town, and so on until he ends by going
to parliament. His speeches, etc., are very
bright. A friend rallying him upon his love of
democracy, Consalvo says, "Why, the end and
aim of democracy is aristocracy; when it is said
that all men should be equal, do you suppose
any one means, equally poor and helpless ? Ah !
no, they mean equally rich and pow^erful."

It is somewhat difiicult to distinguish the
personality of Enrico Annibale Butti (born in
Northern Italy in 1868) from that of De Rober-
to. Butti, however, belongs to the psychologic-
aesthetic school, and has figured as a dramatist

ITALIAN LITERATURE 259

in "The Road to Pleasure" and "Lucifer", as
well as a novelist in "Enchantment", "Soul",
"The Automaton". Butti has given it out that
he likes to take the opposite side, and hence it
cost him nothing to praise Crispi when every-
one else hissed him. As a writer he is a worship-
per of beauty, though he does not like to be
called an imitator of D'Annunzio. As a moralist
Butti is w^illing to confess that he is simply a
hater of vulgarity, and hence it is impossible to
expect any real depth in his treatment of socio-
logical questions.

So we are plunged down in the mire again
in "The Automaton" of Enrico Annibale Butti.
Having heard that J. A. Symonds pronounced
Butti "destined to become the greatest literary
genius of his Country", and having read glow-
ing tributes to him by Yittorio Ferrari and Do-
menico Olina, my expectations w^ere keyed up
to a high pitch. But I had not read tw^o chap-
ters of "The Automaton" before I realized that
these expectations w^ere forever blasted. Claim-
ing to be a psychologico-moral study of a sub-
jugated will, a realistic portrayal of a man
w^hose artistic temperament exposes him to the
cruel caprices of every wind of fortune - so that
when he starts out to propose to one woman,
the singing of a song makes him end by pro-
posing to another - the delineation of this poor

260 HISTORY OF

miserable Attilio Valda is anything but a plea-
sing subject to contemplate. As in most of the
realistic novels, there is much that is funny in
"The Automaton". Valda is obliged to fight a
duel and he is such a coward and suffers so hor-
ribly over the prospect, that he bursts out into
an uproarious fit of crying. His friends, how-
ever, who are not afflicted with artistic tempe-
raments, pull him through the affair, and his
actions as a mere puppet are truly comical. We
do not find it necessary to finish this book, for
there is so much monotony in the second part
that we can easily foretell what is coming in
the third. There is absolutely nothing new in
the portrayal of a poor weak-minded man being
victimized by a demon of a woman, and if there
is anything new^ in the manner of telling it, it is
that it is done in a tone which is always em-
phatic; in other words, it is overdone. But no
one need fear that this book will be read; it is
not only too dreary, but in order to retain his
self-respect the reader has to take too many
antidotes.

A Milanese novelist, under the pseudonym
of Neera, began to excite great interest about
ten years ago. It is now^ known that Neera is
Anna Radius Zuccari, as bright and piquant in
face and form as are her charming stories. Says
Domenico Olina: "Neera is always a thinker

ITALIAN LITERATURE 261

and sometimes an artist, and a bold one, too.
"Though she never published a line until after
her marriage, Signora Zuccari, though still
young, is already responsible for a long list of
novels, such as "The Amulet", "Lydia", "Te-
resa", "Tomorrow", "Punishment", "A Nest",
"My Son's Book", &c., &c.

"The Amulet", is one of the few love stories
of this literature. It is told in the first person
by the heroine, whose name is Myriam. Its
charm consists in the unconscious revelation
that this w^oman makes of her ow^n enchanting
personality. "The Amulet" is simply the name
of the portfolio containing this story, so called
by its owner, an officer in the Crimean War.

This lovable w^oman, Myriam, has been
brought up in isolation and seclusion, in a beau-
tiful old country home in northern Italy. Her
parents marry her to the only man she has ever
seen, whom she idealizes and tries to like. But
after the death of her parents and the birth of
her child, her husband finds that he prefers to
live in Paris, and his absence is prolonged until
it becomes an abandonment, and Myriam lives
on in the depths of the country with no compa-
nionship but that of her little son and two dear
old servants, Ursula and Pietro, who as family
retainers are more like friends than servants.

Suddenly into this quiet circle comes a cous-

262 HISTORY OF

in, M. de la Querciaia, the owner of an estate
■within walking distance. He is clever, intellec-
tual, handsome, "with a beauty that is at once
proud and gentle". In the interchange of ideas,
the ideas of a man who has traveled and a
woman who has meditated, both are soon in
the enjoyment of the most perfect form of human
love. Myriam, of course, does not know that
this is love, and her bliss, her rapture, and her
ecstacy are intense enough to satisfy the most
exacting reader.

La Querciaia is w^eak enough to avow his
love, but Myriam never falters in the determina-
tion to repress even the slightest breath of hers.
She restores his faith in woman by her glorious
fortitude, her unswerving rectitude. She has
the child-nature of a genius, an unsullied inno-
cence of heart and life, a womanliness that ex-
tends to her finger-tips. Biddingthis man whom
she loves go forth to marry, she is fortunately
summoned to Paris by her husband and, rejoic-
ing in the opportunity to educate her child, she
says farewell, for "the w^ays of dreams are ma-
ny, but the path of life is one."

A charming young Sardian, Grazia Deledda,
is now acquiring beautiful fame, inasmuch as
she strengthens the bonds of nationality, while
she reveals new aspects of the nation's genius.
She has written: "In the Azure", "Flower of

ITALIAN LITERATURE 263

Sardinia", "Royal Loves", "Sardian Legends'',
"Indomitable", "Good Souls", "painting in rich
colors and with wonderful acumen of psycho-
logic divination the simple, primitive life of the
Sardian shepherds, in the solitude of their
mountains, and in the sight of the severe, wild
grandeur of a virgin landscape."

"Good Souls" ("Anime Oneste") is so re-
freshing and exhilarating that it completely
annuls the sickening languor produced by Butti
and D'Annunzio. The Picture of the sweet
young Anna Malvas is one that can never fade
from the memory.

As Italy alone of all the nations has had an
unbroken file of musical composers since the
fifteenth century, I have been anxious to ascer-
tain whether anyone has w^ritten acceptably on
this subject.

It seems that only to-day, when the w^orld
is bewailing the death of Verdi with Italy, are
there any such writings. It has been impossible
to keep silence in the face of an event of world -
wide interest, and Eugenio Cbeccbi has given
us a delightful monograph on the "Life and Ge-
nius of Giuseppe Verdi."

Passing in review the triumphs "della musi-
ca verdiana", counting the steps of that won-
derful ascension through tvrenty-eight operas, —
from the "Oberto di San Bonifacio", "Emani"

264 HISTORY OF

and "II Trovatore" to "Aida", "Otello", and
"Falstaff" — ending in a composition of a to-
tally different nature - the magnificent Requiem
Mass for the Obsequies of Manzoni, in 1874, -
it is no wonder that the breast of a compatriot
swells with thankful pride that his country has
produced a genius who has

"waked to ecstacy the living lyre".

No form of literary expression has had such
brilliant development in the 19th century as
Journalism. Pietro Ferrigni <1836-1898), who
was wont to sign himself Forici, was favorably
and widely known as the distinguished editor
of the "Nazione" of Florence. To-day the leading
Journals are the "Nuova Antologia", which is
edited at Rome under the direction of Maggio-
rino Ferraris; the "Emporium" of Turin, under
F. Novati and R, Renier; and the "Rivista
d'ltalia" of Naples, under E. Percopo and N.
Zingarelli. Readers of "Littell's Living Age"
know how frequently articles from the "Nuova
Antologia" fill its columns. And now the folded
sheet of "The Foreigner in Italy" brings to our
homes a fresh breath of novelty in its charming
account of daily doings in the world of business,
literature and Art.

Detractors of Italy, who speak of this land
of love as of a God -forsaken wilderness are
ignorant of its best elements. True religion has

ITALIAN LITERATURE 265

never been wanting in the land of Dante, Man-
zoni and Mazzini. What other country can
boast of a more saintly character than that of
Domenico Pucci, late domestic prelate of the
Pope? Says an English writer who was present
at Pucci's funeral in Pistoja in 1899; "Blessed
indeed is the holy land of Tuscany, where the
love of poverty and its unostentatious practice
is still a claim to public distinction, and w^here
a simple love of the poor and an unfading
charity towards them is title sufficient to all
the pomp and glory of a hero's funeral"!

To us who value Protestantism above all
things what truer Christian can we find in all
the ages than Count Campello, who has sufiered
the loss of all things in order that his brethren
may enjoy the privileges of the Gospel in all its
noble simplicity and profound spirituality? And
what shall we say of Monsignore Paolo Mira-
glia, w^ho braves death every time he speaks to
the people, protected though he be by a hidden
coat of mail! Miraglia's impassioned eloquence
is likened to that of Phillips Brooks, and while
he is adored by his adherents, his enemies would
like to tear him limb from limb.

While we know that these men have preached
the Gospel, we do not know just what they
have said; but this is not the case with Padre
Agostino da Montefeltro. It is now a good

266 HISTORY OF

many years since the Sermons of this celebrated
preacher have been freely circulated among us
in English dress. From seven to eight thousand
persons, chiefly vrorkingmen, listened to these
discourses in the duomo of Florence every day
during the Lenten seasons of 1887 and 88. Not
a breath of ecclesiasticism, not a taint of
"institutional" religion is in these Sermons.
They deal with such great themes as; "God",
"The Spirituality of the Soul", "The observance
of Sunday", "Hope", "Immortality", &c. He
who will take the trouble to read these unu-
sually fine specimens of pulpit oratory, and will
reflect upon the numbers w^ho listened to them,
will find that his faith in Italy's religious life is
not misplaced.

Those w^ho from natural love or wise gui-
dance have learned to prize Philosophy above
all studies will be delighted to have an introduc-
tion to the Italian Philosophers. For in no
country has Philosophy swayed the course of
practical affairs as it has in Italy. "The History
of Philosophy in Italy during the 19th Century"
has been written by Luigi Fern, who has been
for many years the editor of a Philosophical
Review^ in Rome.

In this Histoiy we find that modern Phil-
osophy began with Pasquale Galuppi (in 1827),
a defender of spiritualism; of the distinction

ITALIAN LITERATURE 267

between mind and matter, God and the world;
and of the reahty of cognition. Then came Ro-
smini, with his firm hold upon the a priori ele-
ment in knowledge, and this, the intellectual
intuition of Being.

It is necessary here to permit ourselves an
expansion that we may fully appreciate the
daring originality of this remarkable man.

Antonio Rosmini of Rovereto (1797-1855),
generally called Rosmini -Serbate, to distinguish
him from the historian, Carlo Rosmini, stands
at the head of a brilliant group of Philosophers,
w^ho almost restored to Italy the philosophical
prestige she enjoyed during the period of the
Renaissance. As the beloved friend of Manzoni,
and as one whose voice prevails when we "hear
the conclusion of the whole matter" in Philo-
sophy, Rosmini reveals a charming personality,
as w^ell as rare iiitellectual vigor. His w^orks
are: "A New Essay on the Origin of Ideas";
"Principles of Moral Science"; "A Theosophy."

As to the origin of ideas, Rosmini demon-
strates that it is not necessary to admit as
innate any but the idea of the possibility of
being, which, united to sensation, suffices to
produce the others. Having reduced cognition
to pure ideas, to possibles, to essences, he com-
pares ideas, and sees that the most determinate
re-enter always in the least determinate, so that,

268 HISTORY OF

distributing the most particular and multiplex
first, then the less particular and less luminous^
he reaches the primitive idea, which avails for
all, and which in all is multiplied by means of
different determinations.

In his miscellaneous writings, published by
a friend after his death, Rosmini has a lengthy
paper on "Conjugal Society", or the whole
subject of the nature, laws and rights of Matri-
mony; treated so ably and beautifully, that I
would have it used as a text -book in every
School. No other writer that I have ever seen
has taken the trouble to explain just exactly
what marriage is, in all its aspects, and how it
differs from all other unions.

In estimating the faculties, Rosmini says
"the personal will is the highest of all, since it
has power and right to move all the others."

In the exposition of Truth, Rosmini insists
upon the strictest logic, which, he says, "is all
that is left to the civilized nations, gulled in
their dearest hopes and now more than ever
distrustful of man's knowledge" "The unity
and totality of Truth is a need felt by all men,
and it is fulfilled in Christianity, because Truth
is the principle of Christianity; and from this it
follows that Truth is the property of Christians,
and from them alone can the world expect jus-
tice and liberty."

ITALIAN LITERATURE 269

It is not strange to find Rosmini descanting
upon Dante, but it is startling to find that he
draws constantly on Petrarch to support him
in some of his closest reasoning. Rosmini also
knows how to gather from the ancient writers
the most beautiful sentiments; his quotations
irom the classics are magnificent, and in this a-
lone he is unique. But as a scientist and a reli-
gionist of the most ardent type, Rosmini is a
benefactor to the world.

This union of science and religion made it
possible for Yincenzo Gioberti to go still further
and he it was who brought about the tem-
porary alliance between the Pontificate and
the Italian people in 1848. But hundreds
and thousands of men in Italy, that is, all the
theological students, are educated in the ancient
Philosophy of Thomism (St. Thomas Aquinas)
i. e. Aristotelianism applied to statescraft.
Hence Gioberti's "Moral and Civil Primacy of
the Italians" was doomed : it was rejected in
the Universities. But truth found an ardent
advocate in Terenzio Mamiami, (1799-1885),
w^ho has expounded a form of Platonism in
keeping with the needs of an age ruled by the
sentiment of the real and dominated by the
experimental method in every department of
knowledge. It made an impression upon the
Abate Aloysio Bonelli, an orthodox priest in the

270 HISTORY OF

College of the "Pace" in Rome. His introduc-
tion of the Baconian Philosophy into his College
was a revolution compared to which political
revolutions are feeble, and it was suppressed.
But a stranger phenomenon was presented
w^hen the Director himself, Francesco Rignani,
as a follower of Bonelli, came out with a work
"On the Essence of Bodies" (1876 and 77),
which is nothing less than a metaphysical the-
ory of matter, a reconciliation between modern
science and the Aristotelian traditions.

Meanwhile pure Hegelianism, i. e. absolute
idealism, reigned in Naples, and produced Fran-
cesco De Sanctis, the Taine of Italian criticism,
though with just the opposite Philosophy. The
English Schools of Association and Evolution,
too, have had their influence, and notably on
Roberto Ardigo (1828) who, yet, spurs his divi-
nations beyond the regions of the unknow^able,
and in the "Positivist Morality" finds ground
for demonstrating the problems of immortality
and Divine Existence. Even Ansonio Franchi,
a Professor in Milan, who began as a skeptic^
has published a work entitled "Del Sentimento",
in which he reestablishes the solid foundations
of knowledge by means of primitive instincts.

Finally, Luigi Ferri, himself, of whose work
this is a brief synopsis, stands shoulder to
shoulder with Hamilton, Mansel and McCosh.

ITALIAN LITERATURE 271

Let US hesitate, then, to side with those who
pronounce Italy a nation of infidels, since we
have had a glimpse of this great and glorious
defence of Truth in the citadel of Spirituality.

From different sources we gain the impres-
sion that Giacomo Barzellotti (1843) is the
most distinguished philosopher in Italy at pre-
sent. One authority tells us that he is the great-
est religious w^riter, and another that his chief
w^ork is "An Examination of the Philosophy of
Taine". Though we may not hope for the in-
troduction of this costly work in our libraries
for some years, we may please ourselves by
weaving a theory out of these two statements.
We may hope to see a thorough and dispassion-
ate review of the Positivist Philosophy as em-
bodied in Taine's "Intelligence" and - is it too
much to say? — a refutation of its materialistic
tendencies.

272 HISTORY ob

EPILOGUE.

And now - not to detain my readers any
longer from taking tip this study as original in-
vestigators for themselves - I will take for my
epilogue tw^o lines from Leopardi's Ode on the
Dante monument in Florence :

" Turn back thy gaze, and thou shalt see,

beloved land.
That infinite the host of thine

immortals is 1"

^1^^^

INDEX,

INDEX.

Abbey, an, of the Middle
ages. I. 117, the, of San
Placido, II, 255.

Abel, I, 39, II, 23, 106.

Abelard, II, 146.

Abraham, I. 39.

Academy, Arcadian, II, 33,
51, 111.

— Delia Crusca, I, 245, II,
116.

— Florentine, I, 245,

— French, I. 245. - Mode-
nese, I, 246. - Neapolitan
I, 135.

— Platonic I, 97, 199.

— The later; The Etheri-
als, I, 245, -The Inflamed,

I, 245, - The Lynxes, I,
245, - The Shepherds, II,
51, - The Stunned, II, 51,
- The Vinedressers , I ,
245.

Acheron, 1, 38.
Achilles, I. 40, 134, II, 85.
Adam, I, 39, 65, II, 22, 106.
Adaml, Tobias, I, 269.
Adamo, the, of Andreini,

II, 22, 106.

— of Brescia, I, 50.
Adone, the, of Marini, II,

11.
Adrian IV, II, 146-148.
Adrian VI, I, 128.
JEneas, I, 39, II, 86.
"Africa", Petrarch's Epic,

I. 29.

Africanus, Scipio, 1, 30, 132,

II, 104.
Agamemnon, II, 107.
Aganoor, Vittoria, II, 247.

Agide, II, 105.
Agnostics, I, 71.
Akerblad, II, 143.
Alamanni, Luigi, I, 160,

205, 217.
Albano, II, 27.
Alberti, Leo Battista, I.

108, 176, 211.
Albertus Magnus, I. 73.
Albigenses I, 74.
Alcamo, I. 16.
Alceetis, II, 107.
Alchemists, I. 50, 32.
Aldo Manutio, I, 109, 139.
Alexander the Great, I, 44,

132, 134.
Alfleri, I, 152, 185, II, 32,

53, 64-68, 84, 104-109, 117,

171.
Alfonso of Naples, I, 92,

136.
Allegory, Dante's, I, 36.
— , Lorenzo de' Medici' s,

1, 114.

— Bruno's, I, 258.
Alteroazione, the, of Lo-
renzo de' Medici, 1, 114.

Amadigi, the, of Bernardo
Tasso, I, 167.

Amadis of Gaul, the, of
Vasco de Lobeira, trans-
lated into Spanish by
Montalvo, I, 167.

Amarillis, character in
"Pastor Fido", I, 286-
291.

Ambra, the, of Poliziano I,
100.

— The, of Lorenzo de' Me-
dici, I, 114.

Ambrosian library, I, 126,
II, 41.

276

INDEX

Ambrosoli, Francesco, I,

243, II, 34.
Americans, I, 251, II, 108,

139, 146.
Amicis, Edmondo de, II,

205-208.
Ammianus Marcellinus I,

93.
Amulet, the, of Neera, II,

261. @
Amynta, the, of Tasao, I,

249, 25(5, 284, II, 56.
Anaxagoras I, 40.
Andrea, Jacopo da Sant' I,

45.

— Novella d', 1, 106.
Andrea del Sarto, I, 211.
Andreini, G. B. II, 22-23,

106.
Angelo, See Michaelangelo.
Angels, I, 60.
Angelica, I. 122, 228, 230,

232, 233.
Auguisola, Caterina, I, 214.
— , Sofonisba, I, 215.
Anjou I, 72.
Anna, 8t, I, 80.

— Hospital of, I, 252.
Anselm, St, I, 20, 74.

AutBBUS, I, 50.

Antigone, II, 66.
Antigonous, II, 85.
Antiope, I, 213.
Antiquaries, I, 247, II, 48.
Antiquities, II, 41, 44.
Antony, II, 106.
Appelles, I,.227.
AppoUodorus, I. 227.
Apuleius, 1, 121.
Aquinas St. Thomas, I, 22,

73, 75, II, 37 269.
Arabic, I, 98.
Arcadia, the, of Sannazza-

ro, I, 136.

— as represented in the
Pastor Fido, I, 284-291.

Arcadians, See Academy.
Archaeology, I, 93.
Ardigo, Eoberto, II, 270.
Areopagite, I, 73.

Aretino, Pietro, I, 128 ; 149-
-164, 174, II, 91.

— Leonardo, 1, 160.
Arezzo, Guittone d', 1, 17.

— Petrarch born at, I, 28.

— Vasari's connection
with, I, 211.

Argenti, Filippo, I, 42.
Arianna, the, of Binuccini,

II, 56.
Aridosio, the, of Lorenzi-

no de' Medici, I. 246.
Ariosto, I, 102, 143, 151, 164,

174, 182-185, 227-235, 246,

254, 270, II, 74, 225.
Aristotle, I, 40, 94, 96, 97,

257, 263, II, 14, 269.
Arithmetic, I, 70.
Arius, I, 75.
Armida. I, 275, 281.^
Arnaldo da Brescia, II,

145-150, 209.
Arnold, Matthew, I, 70.
Arpalice, I, 213, 234.
Antaxeixes, II, 83.
Arthur, I. 51, 121.
Asolani, the, of Pietro

Bembo, I, 140,, 221.
Assisi, St. Francis of, I, 73,

119.
Astyanax, 1, 123.
Astrology, I. 74, 209.
Astronomy, I, 70, 261.
Atonement, I, 71.
Attila, I. 44.
Automaton, the, of E. A.

Butti, II, 259.
Augustine, St., I. 80.
Averroes, I, 40.
Avalos, Alfonso d', I, 158.

— Francesco d', 1, 173.
Avicenna, I, 40.
Avignon, I, 83.
Avila, I, 129.

B

Bacchae, the, 1, 104.
Baglione, Malatesta, 1, 191,
202, II, 188.

INDEX

277

Bagnarea, I, 21.

Balbo, Oesare, II, 193-195..

Ballad, I, 20.

Bandello, I, 207-210, 218,

246.
Banquet, the, of Dante, I,

25 •

Baptist, St, John, I, 65, 80,

94.
Barbara, the Lady, in the

novel of Bandello, I, 209,

210.
Bardi, Simone de', I, 25.
Barlaam, I, 28.
Barrili, Anton Glulio, II,

250.
Barterers, I, 47.
Bartholomew, Massacre of

St., I, 239.
Bartolommeo, Fra, I, 30.
Barzellotti, G. II, 271.
Bassville, Hugo, II, 111.
Bassvilllana, the, of Vin-

cenzo Monti, II, 111, 113,

116.
Battifera, Laura, I, 214.
Beatrice Cenci', a novel by

Guerrazzi, II, 187.
Beatrice, the, of Dante, I,

66-81.
Beatrice Portinari, I, 25.
Beatrice di Tenda, an ope-
ra by Bellini, II, 122.
Bee, Monastery of, I, 21.
Beccaria, the Marquis Ce-

sare, II, 54, 137.
Bede, the Venerable, I, 73.
Bees, the, didactic poem of

Bucellai, 1, 199.
Belacqua, I, 57.
Belgiojoso, II, 83.
Bellarmino, Roberto, II,

27.
Bello, Geri del, I, 50.
Bembo, Pietro, 1, 128, 133,

134, 139-142, 143, 160, 174,

221.
Benedict, St. I, 80.
Benedict XIV, II, 45.
Benincasa, Caterina, I, 34.

Bentham, II, 54.
Bentivoglio, Lucrezia, I,

234.
Benuccl, Alessandra, I,

184.
Beoni, I, of Lorenzo de'

Medici, I, 114.
Berchet, II, 138, 151.
Bergalli, Lovisa II, 27.
Bergamo, 1, 157, 11, 47, 160.
Bernard, St. I, 80.
Berni, Francesco, I, 122,

143-149, 174, 262.
Bertuoci, 1, 151.
Bessarion, I, 96.
Betti, Cosimo, II, 73.
Bettinelli, Saverio, II, 68,

69, 73.

Bianchi, the, I, 22.
Bibbiena, Cardinal, I, 130,

143.
Bible, the, I, 67, 222, II,

138, 177, 183.
Bice del Balzo, character

in '•Marco Visconti", II,

155.
Bignami, II, 132.
Boccaccio, 1, 30-33, 136, 188,

208, II, 9, 72. 246.
Boethius, I. 73, 205.
Boiardo, Matteo Maria, I,

98, 120-124, 144, 148.
Boileau, II, 15.
Bologna, I, 16, 92, 98, 157,

161, 162, 168, 195, 204, 214,

II, 15, 40, 49, 143.
Bonaparte, II, 118.
Bonaventura, St. I, 21, 73.
Boniface VIII, Pope, I, 19,

22, 23, 39, 64.
Bonifacio, Carmosina, I,

135.
Borgia, Cesare, I. 126, 185,

236, 237, 240.

— , Lucrezia, I, 141, 169,
234.

Born, Betrand de, I, 49.
Borromeo, Carlo, II, 167.

— Federigo, II, 162.

278

INDEX

— Countess Borromeo-
Grillo, II, 45.

Borsleri, Pietro, II, 138,

151.
Botta, Carlo, II, 122.
Bracciolini, Poggio, I, 93.
Bradamante, I, 229, 234.
Braudimarte, I, 231.
Briareus, I, 50.
Browning, E. B., II, 186.

— Eobert, I, 58.
Brucker, I, 259.
Brunetto Latini, 1, 18, 45.
Bruno, Giordano, I, 257-

259, 269.

— Leonardo, same as Leo-
nardo Aretino, 1, 160.

Brutus, Lucius Junius, I,

39, II, 105.
— , Marcus Junius, I, 52,

II, 105.
Bulgarelli, II, 60.
Buhle, I, 259.
Buonarruoti, I, 176.
— , Nephew of Miciiaelan-

gelo, I, 246.
Burleigh, Cecil, Lord, I,

239
Butti, E. A., II, 559.
Byron, I, 81, 185, II, 32, 64,

150.

Cacciaguida, I, 76.

Caesar, Julius, I, 39, 132,
II, 87.

Caiaphas, I, 47.

Cain, I, 62, II, 107.

Calandra, the, of Bibbiena,
I, 143.

Calsabigi, Benier di, II, 66,

Calvinists, I, 257.

Camaldolese, the, Discus-
sions, of Landino, 1, 108.

Camillo, Julio, I, 160.

Campaldino, the battle of,
I, 22, 57.

Campanella, Tommaso, I,
267-269.

Canterbury, I, 21.

Cantu, 1, 17, 82, 84, 144, 147,

150, 166, 243, II, 9, 37, 39,

197, 222-234.
Capaneus, I, 45.
Capet, Hugh, I, 63.
Capponi, Anna, II, 191.

— Gino, II, 143, 191.

— Niccol6, I, 190, 200, II,
188.

Carcano, Giulio, II, 166,

214.
Carducci, Francesco, 1, 190,

200, II, 188.

— Giosue, II, 201-205.
Caro, Annibale, I, 206.
Caraffa, Cardinal, I, 175.
Carmagnola, H Conte di,

II, 122, 139.
Carrara, the family, I, 29.
Casella, the musician, I, 57,
Cassius, I, 52.
Castelvetro, Ludovico, I,

206, 247, II, 42.
Casti, Giambattista, II, 77,
Castiglione, I, 127-135, 174,

II, 68.
Caterina of Cornaro, I, 40.
Catherine, St. of Siena, I,

33.
Cato of TJtica, I, 56, II, 85,

87.
Cattaneo, Carlo, II, 220.
Cavalcanti, Cavaloante de',

I, 18, 44.

— Guido, I, 18, 44.
Cavalleria Kusticana, II,

216.
Cavour, II, 140, 181, 184,

185.
Celestine V, Pope, I, 39.
Celia, character in Areti-

no's Tragedy, I, 153-156.
Cellini, I, 215-218, II, 246.
Cerberus, 1, 102.
Certaldo, I, 30, 33.
Cesano, Gabriele, 1, 161.
Oesari, II, 73.
Cesarotti. II, 69-71, 118,

INDEX

279

Chaldee, I, 98.
Ohamfort, II, 178.
Chanson de Boland, 1, 119.
Charlemagne, I, 75, 121,

122, 228, 230, 231.
Charles of Anjou, I, 59.
Charles Martel , king of

Hungary, I, 72.
Charles de "Valols, I, 35.
Charles V, I, 128, 142, 150,

166, 177, 191, 194.
Charles VIII of France, I,

124, 195.
Charles IX of France, I.

250.
Charon, I, 38.
Chaucer, I, 32.
Checchl, E., II, 263.
Chemistry, I, 265, 11, 72.
Chiabrera, II, 16-19.
Chigi, Cardinal, 1, 149.
Children, writers for, II,

237-241.
Chivalry, I, 116, 234, 235.
Christ, I, 39, 64, 66, 73, 78,

80, 111, 151, 225, 273, 283,

II, 13, 138.
Christiad, the, of Girolamo

Vida, I, 137.
Christianity, I, 143, II, 29,

166, 265, 266, 268.
Christina of Sweden, II, 27,
Christine de Pisan, 1. 106.
Chrysoloras, I, 92
Chrysostom, St. John, I,

74.
Ciaco, I, 41.
Cibo, Cardinal, I, 144.
Cicero, I, 29, 94.
Cimabue, I, 62.
Cino da Pistoja, I, 26, 90,

II, 250.
Cintio, Giraldi, I, 210.
City of the Sun, work of

Campanella, I, 268.
CiuUo d'Alcamo, 1, 16.
Clement VI, I, 29.
Clement VII, I, 128, 129,

144, 150, 177, 187, 190, 194,

197, 211, 216, II, 188.

Clement XL II, 27.
Cleopatra, I, 40, II, 65, 106.
Clorinda, character in the

" Jerusalem Delivered "

I, 275, 277-280.
CoUalto, Bianca, di, I, 163.

— Count Manfredi dl, I,
163.

CoUaltino , CoUalto di, I,

171.
Colonna, the family, I, 29,

236.

— Fabrizio, I, 172.

— Vittoria, I, 167, 172-176,
178, 180, 234.

Colombi , Marchesa , II ,

238.
Comedy, the Divine, I, 25,

35-81, II, 36, 73, 240.

— the National, II, 90-103.

— the, of Art, II, 91.

— the classical, II, 91.

— specimen by Aretino, I,
158-164.

— analysis of Goldoni's ,
TI, 92-101.

Come le Foglie, Play by

Giacosa, II, 236.
Commentaries, Dante's, I,

25.
— , Boccaccio's, I, 31.

— ,Nerli's, I, 200.

— , Landino's, I, 109.

Conciliatore, II, II, 151.

Conrad III, I, 76.

Constance, the Empress,
I, 70.

Constantinople, I, 94.

Contarini, Cardinal, 1, 175,
225.

Contrasto, II, of Ciullo
d'Alcamo, I, 16.

Convito, II, of Dante, I, 25.

Coridone, character in Pa-
stor Fido, I, 288.

Corinna, I, 213, 234.

Corisca, character in the
Pastor Fido, I, 286-291.

Corneille, II, 58.

280

INDEX

Cornelia, Boman matron,

1,39.
— , Tasso's sister, I, 250.
Cortigiano, II, of Baldas-

sare Castiglione, I, 129 -

135.
Cosmo de' Medici, 1, 97.
Cosimo I de' Medici, 1, 201.
Corvinus, Matthias, I, 208.
Council of Trent, History

of, by Sarpl, I, 266.
Courtier, the, (II Cortigia-
no), I, 129-185.
Cousin, Victor, I, 263.
Crescimbeni, II, 27, 32, 72.
Crimes and Punishments,

work of Beccaria, II, 54.
Criminal, the, of Lombro-

so, II, 241.
Critics, I, 242, II, 27, 33, 34,

42, 50, 66, 69, 121, 235.
Cromwell, Thomas, I, 239.
Crusades, I, 76, 271.
Crusca, the Academy of,

I, 245, 246, II, 116.
Cuore, work of Edmondo

de Amicis, II, 207.
Cur Deus Homo, work of

St. Anselm, I, 21.
Cycles of Chivalry, 1, 121.

D

Dacier, Madame, II, 115,

Damiano, St. Peter, I, 78.

D'Annunzio, II, 242-247,
259.

Daniel the prophet, I, 65.

Daniel, Arnald, I, 65, 90.

Dante Alighieri, I, 22-26,
31, 35-81, 90, 94. 109, 118,
179, 181, 188, 212, 215, 216,
223, 243, 247, II, 9, 69, 72,
73, 74, 104, 136, 172, 182,
209, 225, 231, 240, 272.

Dantisti, II, 73, 240.

Dardinello, character in
Orlando Furioso, I, 233.

Da Porto, Luigi, I. 210.

Darwin, II, 219.
Dati, Carlo, II, 27.
David, king of Israel, I, 39,

61, II, 28, 177.
D'Azeglio, II, 141, 153, 184,

189-191.

Death, Triumph of, by Pe-
trarch, I, 90.

— by D'Annunzlo, II, 245.
Decameron, I, 32, 33, 208.
Decennali, the, of G. Car-

ducci, II, 202.
Deledda, Grazia, II, 262.
Demetrius, II, 36, 85.
Democracy, II, 53, 81. 82,

84.

Democritus, I, 40.
DemofoSnte, II, 85, 88.
De Monarchia, the, of Dan-
te, I, 25, 247.

De Sanctis, II, 235, 270.'
De Vulgari Eloquentia,

the, of Dante, I, 25.
Dialogues, Galileo's, 1, 260.

— Varchi's, I, 205.
Dictionary, I, 246, II, 116.
Dido, I, 40, 234, II, 85, 86.
Diomed, I, 48.

Dion, I, 213.
Dionysius, I, 44.
Discourses on Livy by

Macchiavelli, I, 187, 189,

238.
Dispute, the, of CiuUo,

d'Alcamo, 1, 16.

— A, with Death, by Lapo
Gianni, I, 19.

Disraeli, Isaac, II, 32.
Divine Comedy, I, 25, 26,

35-81, II, 36, 73, 136, 240.
Dominic, St. I, 74.
Donati, Oorso, I, 23.

— Gemma, I, 83.

— Picoarda, I, 90.
Donatello, I, 93.
Donatus, I, 74.

Drama, I, 15, 26, 151, 210-
214, 236, II, 210-214.

INDEX

281

Drunkards, the, satire by
Lorenzo de' Medici, I,
114.

Dryden, I, 32.

Ducat, character in "Jeru-
salem Delivered", I, 276.

Dudone, character in "Je-
rusalem Delivered", I,
273.

Duns Scotus, I, 79.

Dynamics, I, 261.

E

Economists, political. II,

54-56.
Eclogues, 1, 115, 205.
Education, I, 98, II, 38, 52,

54, 69, 181, 198, 202, 219,

221, 248, 269.
Elegy, 1, 137.
Elena di Santa Giulia,char-

aoter in "Daniele Cor-

tis", II, 217.
Elias, I, 222.
Elisium, II, 69.
Eliot, George, I, 33.
Emilia , historical char-
acter in Metastasio, II,

87.
Empedocles, I, 40.
Empirics, II, 9-32.
-England, I, 227, 239, II, 35,

40, 117, 153, 182, 206, 237,

255.
English, I. 242, II, 43, 70,

119, 121, 136, 181, 245, 250,

265.
English Literature, I, 129,

II, 117, 243.
Enzo, king of Sardinia, I,

16, II, 15.
Epics, 1, 121, 144, 184, 227-

235, II, 11, 33.
Epictetus, 1, 99, II, 144, 171.
Ephialtes, I, 50.
Ercolano, the, of Varchi,

I, 205.
Este, Alfonso d', I, the pa-
tron of Ariosto, I, 183.

— Alfonso d', II, the pa-
tron of Tasso, I, 248.

— Ercole d', II, the patron
of B. Tasso, 1, 165.

— Cardinal Ippolito, 1, 182,

— Leonora d', I, 248, 251,
252.

— Lucrezia d', I, 248, 250.

— Luigi, Cardinal, I, 250.

— Ubizzo d', I, 44.
Estensi, the, 1, 121, 229.
Etherials, I, 245.
Ethics, II, 45.
Ethnology, II, 220.
Eugenius IV, Pope, I, 92,

96.

Euripides, II, 107.

Eurydice, 1, 103.

Eva, poem by Fogazzaro,
II, 217.

Eve, I, 65, 80, II, 107.

Ezekiel, Vision of, by Mon-
ti, II, 110.

Ezzolino, I, 44, 72.

F

Faenza, II, 110.

Fantasio, name for Mazzi-
ni in "Lorenzo Benoni",
II, 196.

Farnese, Palace, 1, 179.

— , Pier Luigi, I, 207.

Felice, character in "I Bu-

. steghi", II, 100.

Ferrara, 1, 120, 139, 165, 167,
169, 182, 248, 251, 255, II,
43, 49, 110.

Ferrari, Paolo, II, 213.

Ferrau, character in Or-
lando Furioso, I, 228.

— character in Eicciardet-
to. II, 34.

Ferri, Luigi, II, 266.
Ferrucci, Caterina Fran-

ceschi, II, 198.
Ferruccio, Francesco , I,

191, 201-204, II, 188.
Ficino, Marsilio, 1, 97, 112.
Fidanza, John of, I, 21.

282

INDEX

Fidele, Cassandra, 1, 107.

Fiesole, I, 45.

Filanisieri, Gaetaao, II, 65,

56.
Filiberto, character in Gol-

doni, II. 92,
Filelfo, Francesco, I, 94,

II, 72.
Filicaja, Vincenzo, II, 28 -

32, 145, 191.
Filippo, II, of Alfleri, II,

104.
Filocopo, II, of Boccaccio,

1,31.
Filostrato, II, of Boccaccio,

I, 31.

Fiordespina, character in
Orlando Innamorato, I,
124.

Firenzuola , Agnuolo , I,
160.

Florence, city of, I, 18, 22,
31, 32, 38, 41, 43, 48, 65, 93,
95, 96, 98, 101, 108, 112, 115,
124, 144, 160, 176, 185, 190,
193, 200, 211, 215, 245, 256,
261, II, 17, 18, 48, 49, 65,
119, 136, 143, 145, 156, 208,
235, 240, 264, 266, 272.

— History of, I, 187, 188,
192, 195, 199, 201, 205, H,
191.

— Siege of, I, 190, 191, 202,
203, 204, II, 187, 188.

Florentines, 1, 18, 19, 22, 31,
34, 41, 43, 49, 51, 57, 92, 97,
110, 116, 125, 195, 198, 204,

II, 11, 18, 145, 186, 202,
240.

Fogazzaro, Antonio, II,
216, 236.

Folco da Frovenza, same
as Foulques de Marseil-
le, I, 72, 90, II, 155.

Forests of Love, the, of
Lorenzo de' Medici, I,
114.

Fortiguerra, Niccolb, II,
33, 74.

Foscolo, Ugo, 1, 282, II, 116,
118-121, 126-136.

France, 1, 24, 36, 69, 63, 123,
126, 227, 268, 272, 11, 10,
62, 66, 99, 112, 115, 119, 141,

150, 153, 210.
Francesca da Bimini, in

Dante, I, 40.
— Play of Pellico, II, 122,

151, 153.

Francis I of France, I, 63,

186, 150.
Francis II of Austria, II,

116.
Francis I of Modena, II,

16.
Fraticelli, Pietro, II, 240.
Frederick I (Barbarossa),

II, 146, 148.
Frederick II of Sicily, I,

15, 16, 45, II, 15.
Frederick II (The Great)

of Prussia, ll, 114.
French, the 1, 129, 212, 216,

272, II, 9, 11, 20, 46, 52,

53, 62, 66, 68, 99, 111, US,

122, 151, 181, 228, 233.
Frugoni, C. I. II, 34-36.
Fucci, Vannl, I, 48.
Fuggltiva, ia, of Grossi,

II, 154.
Fulvia, I, 213.
Furioso, The Orlando, of

Ariosto, I, 182, 227-235,

II, 74, 122.

G

Galileo, I, 185, 259-262, 265,
269, II, 121.

Galuppi, II, 266.

Gambara, Veronica, 1, 167-
169, 222.

Garcia, Don, Play of Al-
fleri, II, 104.

Gardens, the, Bucellai, I,
199.

Garibaldi, II, 182, 184.

Gassendi, I, 269.

Gaza, Theodoros, I, 97.

IMPBX

283

Geneva, 1, 175, 267, II, 138.
Genoa, II, 17, 34, 119, 182.
Germans, I, 26, 37, 68, 73,

100, 185, 269, II, 46, 116,

148, 156, 214, 217.
Germany, I, 70, 257, II, 36,

40, 139, 171.
Gerusalemme Ijjberata,

La, of Tasso, I, 250, 270-

283, II, 168.
Gherardesca, I, 52, 59.
Ghibellines, I, 22.
Giacomini, Antonio, Life

of, by Nardi, 1, 192.
Gianni, Lapo, 1, 19.
Giannina, character in

"Curioso Aocidente", II,

92
Gibbon, I, 82, 267. II, 40.
Giberti, Matteo, 1, 174.
Ginevra of Scotland, the of

G. Pindemoijte, II, 122.
Giordani, Pietro, II, 123-

126.
Giorno, II, of Parini, II, 62,

53, 77-84.
Giovanni da Eavenna, I.

92
Giovio, Paolo, I, 143, 150,

161.
— , Francesca, II, 120, 126.
Giusti, Giuseppe, II, 156,
Gladstone, I, 242.
Godfrey de Bouillon, I, 75,

271 272.
Goethe, I. 264, II, 119, 139,
Goldoni, Carlo, II, 61-63,
"^0-101, 213.

Gonzaga, Francesco, 1, 127.
— , Vincenzo, I, 253.
— , Leonora, II, 27.
Gozzadina, Bltisia, 1, 105.
Gozzi, Carlo, II, 63, 73, 101-

103.
— (Jaspare, II, 73, 77.
Graces, the, of Foscolo, II,

121, 131.
Gradasso, character in Or-
lando Furioso, I, 232.
Gray, Thomas, II, 118, 170.

Greece, I, 93, 96, II, 118,

251.
Greek, I, 92, 94, 95, 97, 106,

139, 201, 204, II, 41 67, 107,

115, 119, 126-136, 143, 170.
Greeks, the, I, 48, 68, 61,

74, 92, 94, 95-97, 99, 169,

II, 14, 17, 26, 118.
Griselda, I, 33.
Grocin, 1, 100.
Grossi, II, 154.
Guarini, Battista, I, 248,

254-256.
Guelfs, I, 22.

Guerrazzi, F. D. II, 186-189,
201.
Guicciardini, I, 193-198, II,

123.
Guidi, Alessandro, II, 27,

28, 65.
Guidicioni, Giovanni, I,

160, 222.
Guinicelli, Guido, 1, 16, 19,

65, II, 250.
Guittone d'Arezzo, I, 17,

90.
Guido da Polenta, 1, 26, 40,

II, 153.
Guidobaldo da Montefel-

tro, 1, 127, 129.
Gurney, Hudson, II, 121.

H

Hallam, Henry, I, 23, 82,

122, 139, 147, 166, 242, 267,

II, 17, 40, 149.
Hamerton, Philip, Gilbert,

I, 125, II, 243.
Hannibal, I, 132, il, 34.
Harlequin, 1, 157, II, 83, 92.
Harpies, I, 44.
Hebrew, I, 98, II, 143
Hecatomithi, the, of Giral-

di Cintio, I, 210.
Hector, I, 39.
Hegel, I, 259.
Helen of Troy, I, 40.
Hemans, Felicia Dorothea,

I, 250, 254, II, 247.

284

INDEX

Henry II of France, 1, 208.
Henry III of England, I.

59.
Henry VII of England, I,

128
Henry VIII of England,

I, 150, 239.
Henry VI of Germany, I,

70.
Henry of Guienne, I, 50.
Henry III of Navarre, I,

59.
Heptaplus, the, of Pico

della Mirandola, I, 98.
Heraclitus, I, 40
Hereslarchs, I, 43.
Herodian, I, 99,
History of political events

I, 121, 140, 187, 192, 195,

199, 201-205, 266, II, 43,

44, 57, 123, 156, 185, 191,

195, 198, 220.

— , of Literature, 1, 17, 82,
121, 243, n, 47, 198, 208,
222-234, 235.

— , of Painting, II, 49.

— , of Philosophy, II, 266-
270.

Holderness, II, 35.
Homer, I, 94, 99, 134, II,

115, 203.
Homicides, I, 44, 216.
Horace, II, 20, 25.
Horatii, the, 1, 152-156.
Howells, Wm. D. II, 117,

Hugh Capet, I, 63.
Hugh of Vermandois, I,

272
Hugo, Victor, I, 240.
Hungary, I, 208.
Hunt, Leigh, II, 31, 163.
Hymns, I, 111, 114, II, 131,

138, 192.

Ibsen, II, 236.
Icarus, 1, 137.
Idyls, II, 159.

Hiad, the, I, 30, II, 69, 115,

120.
Imbonati, Carlo, II, 53.
India, I, 232, II, 244.
Inferno, The, I, 35-53.
Innocent III, Pope, I, 73.
Inquisition, 1, 166, 246, 258,

263, II, 231.
Ionian Islands, II, 122.
Iris, II, 133.
Isabella, character in the

"Orlando Furioso," I,

233.
Isabella d'Aragona, 1, 106.
Ischia, 1, 173.
Isidore, Saint, I, 73.
Israel, I, 39.
Italia Liberata, L', 1, 184.

James the Apostle, I, 79.
Jameson, Mrs., 1, 138.
Japan, II, 218.
Jerogamia of Crete, the, of

Monti, II, 114.
Jesuits, II, 45, 48, 219.
Jesus Christ our Lord, I,

39, 64, 66, 73, 78, 80, 111,

151, 225, 273, 283, II, 13,.

138.
Jerusalem Delivered, the,.

of Tasso, I, 250, 270-283,

II, 158.
Jews, I, 71, II, 186.
John the Apostle, I, 79.
John the Baptist, I, 65, 80,.

94.
Jonson, Ben, I, 284.
Joshua, I, 73.
Jovio, 1, 161.
Judas, I, 52.
Judith, I, 80.
Julia, Roman matron^ I,.

39.
Julius II, Pope, 1, 177, 178,.

182, 185.
Jupiter, the planet, I, 77..
Justinian, I, 71.

INDEX

285

Keats, II, 175.
King, Mrs. Eleanor Hamil-
ton, II, 196.
Knight errantry, 1, 119.
Knights, I, 145, 228, 231.

Laotantius, 1, 105.

Lamartine, II, 157.

Landino, 1, 108, II, 72.

Landor, Walter Savage,
II, 170.

Lanzi, II, 48-50.

Lapo Giani, I, 19.

Lascaris, 1, 139.

Lara, Contessa, II, 238, 240.

Latin, I, 15, 92-101, II, 41,
140, 204.

Lazarus, Emma, I, 91.

Laura, I, 28, 83, 88.

Laurence, St., I, 71.

Laurentian Library, 1, 113.

Leibnitz, IL 43.

Leighton, E. Blair, I, 33.

Leo X, Pope, I, 115, 142,
149, 174, 177, 182, 186, 136,
II, 188, 230.

Leonardo da Vinci, 1, 124-
127, 176, 211, 264.

Leopardi, II, 32, 142-145,
146, 170-179, 272.

Leslie, I, 33.

Letters, I, 25, 34, 107, 151,
166, 175, 262, II, 41, 69,
119, 126.

Linacre, 1, 100.

Lisa, character in the De-
cameron, I, 33.

Liturgy, II, 42.
Livy, I, 40, 94, 152, 161,
187, 192.

Logic, I, 70, II, 268.

Lombard, Peter, I, 21.

Lombardi, I, opera by Ver-
di, II, 122.

Lombards, II, 106, 154.

Lombroso, II, 241.
Longfellow, I, 17, 234, II,.

139.
Longobards, II, 140.
Lorenzino de' Medici, I,

207, 246.
Lorenzo the Magnificent,.

I, 109, 115.
Lorenzo duke of Urbino,

I, 179, 207.
Louis XII of France, I,

185.
Louis XVI of France, II,

112.
Lucia, a personification in

Dante, I, 25, 60.
— Santa, I, 80.
Lucian, 1, 121.
Lucifer, I, 52.
Lucrezia, Boman matron,

I, 39.
Lucretius, I, 93.
Luther, I, 247, 257, II, 205.
Lysias, I, 94.

M

Macaulay, I, 243, II, 222.
Maccabeus, Judas, I, 75.
Macchiavelli, I, 143, 185-

189, 200, 207, 236-244, II,

188, 208, 209, 225, 230.
Maffei, Scipione, II, 46,

58, 59.
Maggl, Carlo Maria, II, 42.
Mahomet, I, 49.
Mai, Angelo, II, 172.
Malaspina, Oorrado, I, 59.
Malatesta Baglione, 1, 191,

202, II, 188.
Mandragora, La, play by

Macchiavelli, 1, 187.
Manfredi, I, 57.
Manto. the, of Poliziano,

1, 100.
Mantua, I, 58, 108, 127, 251,

253, 256, 265, II, 49, 68,

164.
Manutio, I, 109, 139.

286

INDEX

Manzoni, II, 32, 137-142,
151, 154, 159-169, 187, 190,
201, 225, 231, 265, 267.

Maramaldo, Fabrizio, I,
203, II, 188.

Marcellinus , Ammianus,
I, 93.

Marfisa, character in "Or-
lando FurioBo," I, 234.

Margaret of Navarre, I,
167

Margutte, character in "II
Morgan te Maggiore," I,
118.

Marini, II, 9-13, 225,

Marlowe, I, 284.

Martel, Charles, king of
Hungary, 1, 72.

Martia, Boman matron, I,
39.

Martin V, Pope, I, 92.

Marveil, Arnald de, I, 90.

Mary Queen of Scots, II,
104.

Mary, the Blessed Virgin,

I, 63, 65, 80, II, 13, 138.
Mascheroni, Lorenzo, II,

113.
— , Sassuolo, I, 51.
Mascheroniana , the, of

Yincenzo Monti, II, 113.
Matilda, I, 65.
Mazzini, II, 180-183, 184,

240, 265.
Medici, family of, I, 97,

100, 177, 186, 190, 195, 196,

198, II, 188.

— , Alessandro de', 1, 144,
191, 198, 207, 211.

— , Cosimo de', I, 92, 97,

189.
— , Cosmo II, Grand Duke,

II, 17, 19.

— , Giovanni, I, 115, 159,
See Leo X.

— , Giuliano, I, 101, 149,
187.

— , Giulio, I, 197, 198, See
Clement VII.

— , Ippolito, Cardinal, I,-
144, 211.

— , Lorenzino, I, 207, 246.

— , Lorenzo, the Magnif-
icent, I, 101, 111-115, 179,
189.

— , Lorenzo, Duke of Ur- -
bino, 1, 179, 207.

— , Piero, 1, 110, 179.
Medoro, character in "Or-
lando Furioso," I, 233.

Melbourne, Lord, I, 242.
Menzini, II, 27.
Messina, I, 139, II, 37.
Metaphysics, I, 70, 258.
Metastasio, II, 27, 57, 59-

61, 85-89.
Michaelangelo, 1, 115, 176-

181, 185, 191, 211, 212, 217, ..

II, 13, 26, 28, 1S8.
Michelet, I, 82, II, 39.
Middle Ages, I, 15-81, II,~

154.
Milan, I, 92, 94, 106, 125,,

126,127,208,11,41,42,45,

49, 50, 53. 54, 55, 112, 138, .

139, 143, ISO, 154, 156, 158,

160, 189, 220, 234, 260.
Milton, I, 57, 137, II, 21,

23.
Minos, I, 40.
Mirandola, I, 98.
Mirtillo, character in "Pa-
stor Fido," I, 286-291.
Modena, I, 121, 127, 160,.

194,246,11,15,16,41,42,.

45, 46, 47, 49.
Moliere, II, 90, 99.
Molza, 1, 160. 221.
Montaigne, II, 178.
Monti, II, 36, 73, 110-117,

118, 120, 124, 231, 232.
Montalvo, I, 167.
Montesquieu, II, 56.
Montef^tro, I, 49, 127 129.
Moral Philosophy, II, 45.
Morata, Olympia, I, 247,

II, 47.
Moravians, I, 11 0, 175.
More, Sir Thorn as, 1, £68

INDEX

287

"Morgante Maggiore, II, of

Luigi Puld, I, 106, H7.

118.
Moors, I, 233.
'Moses, I, 39, 178, II, 28.
Muratori, II, 40-47, 48, 72.
iMurtola, Gaspare, II, 10.
Music, I, 57, 107, 108, II,

24, 29, 56, 60, 111, 114, 132,

263.
Mythology, II, 9, 16, 36,

127.

N

Naples, I, 22, 31, 72, 92, 135,

136, 157, 166, 173, 191, 192,

208, 263, 267, II, 10, 11,
.23, 37, 38, 40, 49, 55, 59,

135, 144,182,208,215,251.

253, 264.
"Napoleon, II, 113, 114, 118,

135, 197.
Napoleon III, II, 141.
Nardi, the historian, 1, 189-

193, II, 90.
— the town, II, 198.
Nathan the Prophet, I, 74.
Nativity, the, of Sanazza-

ro, 1, 137.
Natural History, II. 219
Neapolitans, II, 186, 251,

270.
Neera, II, 260.
Tfegri, Ada, II, 248.
Nencia da Barberino, La,

of Lorenzo de' Medici,

1, 114.
Nencini, Eleonora, II, 132.
Nemours, Duke de, 1, 179.
Nerii, Filippo, I. 198-200.
Newton, II, 136.
Niccolini, II, 143, 145-150.
Nicholas III, Pope, I, 46.
Nicholas V, Pope, I, 94.
Niebuhr, II, 39.
Nievo, Ippolito, II, 214.
Night, The, of Parini, II,

52, 82.
Nimrod, I, 50.

Nino of Pisa, I, 59.
Noah, I, 39.

Noris, Enrico, II, 27, 41.
Novara, II, 193.
Novellara, I, 121.
Novels, I, 207, II, 119, 127,

140, 154, 158-169, 184, 187.

189, 195, 197, 215, 216-218,

245, 252-263.
Nutricin, La, of Poliziano,

1, 100.

O

Oohino, Bernardino, 1, 175,

225.
Odes, II, 17-19, 28-31, 129-

180, 171, 202.
Oderigi da Gubbio, I, 61,

212
Odyssey, 1, 148, II, 118.
Olindo, character in Geru-

salemme Liberata, 1, 375-

277.
Oliphant, Mrs, II, 139.
Olivero, I, 234.
Ontolo©^, I, 21, 259.
Opera, 1, 101, II, 56, 57, 59,

85-89, 122.
Optics, I, 265.
Orange, Filippo of Chal-
ons, Prince of, I, 202, 203.

— William I, Count of, I,
76.

Orations, I, 107, 205.
Orazia, L', 1, 152-156.
Orestes, II, 107.
Orfeo, L', of Poliziano, I,

102-105, II, 56.
Orlando, I, 76, 116-120.

— Furioso, I, 182, 227-235,
270, II, 122.

— Innamorato, I, 121-124,
145-149.

Orosius, I, 73.
Orsini, Clarice, 1, 113.

— , the family, I, 237.
— , Sigaor, I, 203.
Ossian, II, 69-71, 114.
Ottoear of Bohemia, I, 59.

288

INDEX

Ottomans, II, 31.
Ovid, I, 99, 118, 123.
Oxford, I, 24.

Padua, 1,^4, 105, 139, 170,

193, 204, 251, 255, 260, II,

69, 70.
Painters, I, 34, 61, 107, 126,

II, 23, 49.
Painting, I, 126, II, 24, 49,

107.
Palmerston, I, 242.
Pallavicino, Sforza, I, 266.
Papal religion, II, 27.
Paradiso, II, of Dante, I,

71-81.
Paradise Lost, I, 137, II,

23
Parini, II, 50-53, 65, 77-84,

117, 118, 138, 135, 143, 179,

218.
Paris, I, 21, 24, 29, 129, 230,

257, II, 10, 113, 186.
Pascal, II, 104, 178.
Pasooli, II, 241.
Pastor Fido, II, of Guari-

ni, I, 256, 284-292, II, 56.
Pastoral poems, 1, 101, 136,

249, 256, 284-292, II, 56.
Patriots, I, 23, 43, 46, 110,

191, 199, 204, 241, II, 28,

84, 113, 117, 141, 145, 151,

156, 158, 172, 180-196.
Paul III, Pope, I, 175, 216,

225, 246.
Paul IV, Pope, I, 247.
Paul V. Pope, I, 266.
Pedagogue, II, 220.
Pegaseo, II, of G-. Bruno,

I, 258.
Peireso, Nicholas, I, 269.
Pellico, Silvio, II, 138, 160-

154.
Perrault, II, 237.
Perticari, Giulio, II. 116.
Pescara, 1, 173, 175.
.Peter, St., the Apostle, I,

79.

Peter the Hermit, I, 272.
Peter Lombard, I, 73.
Petrarch, I, 27-30, 82-91, 94,

137, II, 9, 13, 42, 269.
Petrarchists, I, 167, 170,

179, 220, 222, II, 72.
Philip II of Spain, I, 215,

II, 44.
Philippe le Bel, I, 63, 64.
Philology, II, 39, 170.
Philosophy. I. 268, II, 39,

177, 266-271.
Pichler, Teresa, II, 111,

118.
Piccolomini , Archbishop ,

I, 261.

Pico della Mirandola, I,

98, 99.
Piedmontese, II, 64, 206,

236, 239.
Piero delle Vigne, 1, 16, 44.
Pindaric Ode, II, 17-19.
Pindemonte, Giovanni, II,

122.

— , Ippolito, II, 117-118,

133
Pio Nono, IT, 140.
Pisa, I, 59, 211, 212, 259,

260, II, 182, 234.
Pisano, Cristina da, 1, 106.
Piscopia, Elena, II, 27.
Pistoja, Cino da, I, 26.
— , the town, II, 145.
Plato, I, 22, 96, 97, II, 14,

269.
Platonic Academy, I, 98.
Plautus, II, 94.
Plethone, I, 96, II. 171.
Plutarch, I, 94.
Poetry, II, 68.
Poggio Bracciolini, I, 94.
Pole, Cardinal, I, 225.
Politics, The, of Campa-

nella, I, 268.
Poliziano, I, 98, 99-105, 115,

II, 53.
Pomtanus, 1, 135.

Pope, Alexander, II, 15, 35,
115.

INDEX

289

Poped, I, 93, 142, 143, II,

45, 140.
Portugal, I, 15.
Portuguese, I, 167.
Pothier, II, 186.
Prati, Giovanni, II. 200.
Prince, the, of Macohia-

velli, I, 187, 236-244, II,

230.
Prose, I, 140, II, 68.
Protestant religion, I, 110,

167, 266, II, 40, 44, 138,

265.
Provence, I, 15.
Provencals, I, 16, 65, 90,

II, 9.
Psychology, I, 259.
Puccianti, II, 75. 234.
Pulci, Antonia, I, 105, 115.
— , Bernardo, I, 115.
— , Luca, I, 115.
— , Luigi, I. 115-120.
Pulcinella, I, 157, II. 83.
Purgatorio, the, of Dante,

I, 55-67.

Q

Quadrivium, the, of the

Schoolmen, I, 70.
Querciaia, character in
'The Amulet", II, 262.
Querini, Cardinal, II, 44.
Quintilian, I, 29, 93.

E

Kachel, I, 80.

Eacine, I, 182.

Eahab, I, 72.

Bajna, I, 116, 122, II, 235.

Eambouillpt, II, 10.

Eaphael, I, 60, 128, 135,

143, 161.
Eapture Oonoerning his

Lady, the, of Lapo Giani,

I, 19.
Eavenna, the battle of, I,

173.
— , the city of, I, 25.

— Giovanni da, I, 93.
Eebecca, I, 80.
Eeformation, The, I, 147,

224, II, 209.
Eeligion, I, 21, 37, 111, 180,

223, 224, 225, 271, II, 40,

43, 44, 46, 89, 138, 190, 201,

209, 223, 265-266.
Eenaissance, I, 113-292, II,

208, 267.
Eenata, duchess of Ferra-

ra, I, 165.
Eenzo, character in "I

Promessi Sposi", II, 159-

167.
Eepublic, I, 190, II, 42, 52,

192, 215.
Eeuchlin, I, 100.
Eevivers of Learning, I,

93-111, II, 14.
Eevolution, II, 110-123, 197.
Ehetoric, I, 108.
Eiceiardetto, the, of Nicolb

Portiguerra, II, 33.
Eicci, Teodora, II, 64.
Eichard of St. Victor, I, 73.
Eienzi, I, 29, 91, II, 149.
Eifeus the Trojan, I, 77.
Einaldo, character in Or-
lando Purioso, I, 228.

— , character in Orlando
Innamorato, I, 145.

— , character in Jerusalem

Delivered, I, 272, 275, 281.
— , Tasso's Poem, I, 248.
Einuccini, Ottavio, II, 56.
Eimini, town of I, 108.
— , Francesca da, I, 40, II,

151, 1.53.
Ristori, Adelaide. II, 213.
Eobert, king of Naples, I,

29.
Eoberto, Federigo De, II,

2.54.
Eobertson , E e v. A 1 e x-

ander, I, 267.
Eodogune, the tragedy of

Corneille, II, 58.
Eomano, Giulio, I, 135, 150,

161.

290

INDEX

Bomantioists, II, 135-179.
Kome, I, 29, 93, 96, 98, 128,

141, 143, 150, 173, 174, 177,

208, 253, 258, 266, II,, 10,

24, 27, 45, 49, 59, 87, 110,

112, 125, 143, 181, 189, 245,

264, 266, 270.
Kosa, Salvatore, II, 23-27,

37.
Boscoe, Thomas, 1, 137, II,

49.
— , William, 1, 113, II, 28.
Bosmunda, the, of Bu-

cellai, I, 152, 199.
— , the, of Alfleri, II, 106.
Bossetti, Dante G., I, 19.
Bousseau, II, 228.
Bucellai, Bernardo, I, 199,
— , Giovanni, 1, 152, 199.
Euffini, Giovanni, II, 195.
Buggiero, I, 229, 232, 234.
Busteghi, I, of Goldoni,

II, 99-101.
Busticucci, I, 46.
Busticus, the, of Polizia-

no, I, 100.
Buth, I, 80.

S

Sabelliua, I, 75.
Sacripante, I, 228, 232.
Sad Shepherd, the, of Ben

Jonson, I, 283.
Bade, Laura de, I, 28.
Sadoleto, Cardinal, I, 139,

141, 143, 175, 247,
Saffl 11,181.
Saladin, I, 39.
Salerno, I, 165.
Sallust, I, 161.
Salvator Eoaa, II, 23-27, 37.
Sanseverino, I, 165.
Sanazzarro, Jacopo, I, 135-

138, 217, II, 37.
Sant' Andrea, Jacopo da, I,

45.
Sarah, I, 80.
Sardanapalus, II, 134.
Sardinia, I, 16, II, 184, 263.

Sarpi, Fra Paolo, I, 264-

267, II, 227, 229.
Sarzana. I, 19.
Satire, I, 183, 258, II, 24-26,

52, 77-84.
Saul, I, 176, II, 104, 108.
Savonarola, I, 109-111, 175,

188, 189, II, 208, 209.
Savoy, I. 256, II, 40, 193.
Scandiano, I, 120.
Scala, Can Grande della,

1,77.
Scevola, I, 71.
Scaligero, Joseph, I, 137.
Searfoglio , Eduardo, II,

252.
Scartazzini, II, 240.
Scholasticism, I, 21, II,

269.
Schoolmen, I, 21, 22, 72-75.
Schopenhauer, II, 178.
Scienza Nuova, II, 38, 39.
Science, I, 99, II, 55, 219,

220, 241, 267.
Scientists, I, 248, 259-262,

265, II, 38, 72.
Scipio Africanus,1 , 132, II,

104.
Scotland, II, 200.
Scott, Sir Walter, II, 165.
Seyros, II, 85.
Segnl, Bernardo, I, 200-

204, II, 188.
Sella, Emanuele, II, 250.
Selene, II, 86.
Semiramls, I, 40.
Seneca, I, 40, 105, 205, II,

106.
Sennacherib, II, 34.
Sentences, the, of Peter

Lombard, I, 21.
Sepulchres, the, of Ugo Fo-

scolo, II, 53, 120, 121, 133-

136.
Serbelloni, II, 52.
Serrassi, I, 251.
Serrao, Matilde, II, 251-

254.
Seutonius, I, 99.
Sestinl, II, 74-76.

INDEX

291

Sforza, Francesco, I, 95.
— , Ludovieo, I, 125, 127.
Shakespeare, I, 152, 210,

II, 164, 166.
Shelly, II, 175.
Sicily, I, 15, 16, 123, II, 15,

182, 183, 196, 215, 255.
Sidney, Sir Philip, I, 257.
Siena, 1, 33, II, 49, 65.
Sigebert, I, 73.
Sigonio, I, 247, II, 42.
Slmoniaos, I, 46.
Simpkins, I, 82.
Sinon, I, 50, 123.
Sinigaglia, I, 237.
Sismondi, I, 82, 136, II, 34,

145,
Sixtus V, I, 143.
Sobieski, II, 28, 29.
Socrates, I, 40.
Soderini, Giambattista, I,

193.
— , Pietro, I, 186.
Solomon, ,1 73, II, 177.
Sonnets, I, 16, 18, 84, 85,

87, 89, 137, 138, 170, 180,

222, 223, 224, 225, 252, II,

10, 13, 28, 53, 108, 119, 201,

203, 244.
Song of Fortune, I, 19.
Sophocles, II, 107.
Sophonisba, 1, 152, II, 104.
Sorbonne, I, 263.
Sordello, I, 58.
Sorrento, I, 167, 248.
Spagna, II, 206.
Spain, I, 186, 194, 208, 215,

228, II, 21, 40, 65, 194, 201,

207, 255,
Spenser, Edmund, I, 234.
Stael, De, I, 82, 254, II, 149.
Stagyrite, The, I, 58.
Stampa, Gaspara, I, 170-

172.
— , The Countess, II, 141.
Statics, I, 261.
Statins, I. 64, 99, 167.
Sterne, II, 119, 127.
Stephens, Sir James, 1, 177.
Stlllman, W. J., II, 240.

Stolberg, Louisa Von, II,

65, 67, 108, 120.
Stowe, Mrs., I, no.
Stuart, Charles Edward,

II, 65.
— , Mary, II, 104.
Strozzi, Ercole, I, 169.
— , Palla degli, I, 92.
Summa Theologia, I, 22.
Switzerland, II, 155, 181,

195.
Symonds, J. A., I, 82, 100,

169, 176, 204, II, 259.
Syphax, II. 104.

T

Tacitus, II, 149.
Taine, H. A. II, 50, 270,
271.

Tancred, I, 271, 275, 277-

282.
Tasso, Bernardo, I, 160,

164-167, 248.
— ,Torquato, I, 166, 248-

254, 255, 270-283, II , 42,

121, 201, 227.
Tassoni, Alessandro , II,

13-16. 42, 68.
Taylor, J. E. I, 181.
Telescope, I, 260, 265.
Telesio, Bernardino, I, 257.
Temora, II, 71.
Tennyson, I, 40.
Terence, II, 93-95.
Tesiras, I, 100.
Tesoretto, II, of Brunetto

Latini, I, 18.
Testi Fulvio, II, 20, 21, 213.
Thales, I, 40.
Thalia, I, 163, II, 134.
Theaters, II, 66, 118, 146.
Thebaid, the, Of Statius,

1,64.
Theodoros Gaza, I, 98.
Theology, I, 21, 22, 71, 80,

149, 222, 247, 257, 268, 266,

II, 27, 44, 269.
Thermometer, I, 265.

292

INDEX

Thomas, St. of Aquinas, I,

22, t3, 11, 37, 269.
Thyestes, II, 118.
Thyrsis, 1, 128.
Timoleon, II, lOG.
TiDion, 1, 121.
Tiraboschi, I, 243, II, 47,

48.
Titian, I, 142, 161, II, 90.
Tolomei. Claudio, I, 161.
— , Pia dei, I, 57, II, 74-76.
Torraca, Francesco, 1, 102,

152, 157.
Torello, Barbara, I, 169,

170.

Tornabuoni, Lucrezia, I,

106, 112, 116.
Torricelli, I, 262.
Tournament, The, of Pul-

ci, I, 115.
Tragedy, 1, 152-156, II, 36,

66, 104-109, 111, 118, 139,

140. 151.
Traill, Prof. II, 49.
Trajan, I, 77.
Trent, Council of, I, 266.
Trfeor. II, of Brunette La-

tini, I, 18.
Trissino, I, 143. 152. 184.
Tristan, I. 40. II, 246.
Trivium. I, 70.
Triumph of Death, The, of

D'Annunzio. II, 245.
Triumphs, The, of Pe-
trarch. I. 30, 90, II, 42.
Turpin. I. 119.
Turin, I, 256, II. 10. 46, 64.

65. 97, 150, 189, 201, 241,

243, 264.
Turandot, II, 101, 102.
Tuscan I 19 49, 62, 64, 139,

246, II, 35, 65.
Tuscany. I, 48, 143. 195,

261, It, 40, 156, 202, 265.

U

Uberti, I. 43.
UfBzzi Gallery, I, 99.

Ugolino della Gherarde-

sca I, 52. II, 72.
Ulysses, I, 48.
Universities, I. 93.
Urania I. 161.
Urban VI, Pope, I, 34.
Urban VIII, Pop«, I, 260,

II, 17.
Urbino, I, 127, 129, 139,

167, II, 18.
Utioa, I 56 II, 85, 87.
Utopia I. 268.
Uzeda, II 255.

Valda, Attilio, II, 260.
Valisnieri, II, 45.
Valois. I, 36.
Valsolda. II. 217.
Valtellina II. 215.
Vanini, Lucillio, I, 262-264,

II, 37.
Vanni Fucci, I. 48.
Vaqueiras, I, 90.
Varano, Alfonso, II, 36, 37,

72.
— , Costanza, I. 105.
Varchi. I, 204-207, 217, II,

188
Vaaari, I, 211-215. II 49.
Vaucluse, I, 29 83.
Vecchio, II palazzo, I, 211.
Vegliantin. I, 119.
Venice. 1. 106 109. 129, 139,

140, 150, 157, 161. 192,

204, 256, 258, 264, 265, II,

18, 20. 35, 49. 57, 63, 73,

102, 118. 185. 247.
Venturi. I, 127.
Venus, I. 72, 163, II. 131.
Verdi, Giuseppe, II, 263.
Verga, II. 215.
Vergiolese, Selvaggia, I,

27.
Verona. I, 77, II, 18, 58, 73,

117, 199.
Verri, Alessandro. II, 54.
— , Pietro, II. 54, 77.
Vesta, II, 132.

INDEX

293

Vicenza, II, 216.

Vicere I, of De Eoberto,

II, 254-258.
Vico. Giambattista, II, 37-

40, 56, 231.
Vida. Girolamo, I, 137.
Vienna. II 27, 28, 29, 57,

60, 61, 152.
Vigil of the Wedding, The,

of Zanella, II, 247.
Vigne, Piero delle, I, 16,

44.
Villari, Pasquale, II, 208.
Vincenzo, novel by EufQ-

ni, II, 195.
Virgil, I, 35, 65, 115, 118,

138, II, 69.
Virginia, tragedy of Alfle-

ri, II, 106.
Virgins of the Eocks, by

D Annunzio, II, 245.
Visconti, Filippo Maria, I

92, 94.
— , Marco. li. 154.
Vita Nuova, I. 25.
Vitruvius, I. 93.
Volta. II, 72.
Voltaire, I, 105, II, 58, 72,

99.
Vulgari Eloquentia. I, 25.

W

Wagner, II, 246.

War, Art of, by Macchia-

velli, I, 187.
Wenceslaus of Bohemia,

I, 59.
Werther, II, 119.
Wesley. C, I, 111.
Wilde. I, 249, 250, 251.
William, Count of Orange,

I. 76.
Windsor Castle, I. 215.
Wordsworth, I, 180, II, 17.

Xenophon, I, 94, 121, II,

144, 171.
Xerxes, II, 68.

Z

Zanella, II, 247.

Zappi, Faustina Maratti.

II. 28.
— .Felice, II 28.
Zante. II, 118.
Zappolino, II. 15.
Zeno, Apostolo, II, 57, 60.
Zeuxis, I, 227.
Zuccari, Anna Eadius, II,

260.