moods to endearing associations, and vain desire to a hope full of immortality." Man is for the first time revealed to himself, and absolutely known to another ; for entire sympathy, not friendly observation, is the key to our individual natures; and when this has fairly opened the sacred portal, we are alone no more forever!

Petrarch affords a good illustration of this subject, because he has bequeathed a record of his experience, which fame has rendered classical. In him, as in every one, the influence of the sentiment was modified by particular traits of character. It is not requisite that we regard him as the most unexceptionable example of a lover, in order to avail ourselves of the autobiography of the heart which he left behind him. It is enough to acknowledge the fact that his career was mainly swayed by a feeling which, in most men, exerts but a temporary and casual agency; and that the most genial outpourings of his soul have exclusive reference to its phases. It is not pretended that he is faultless; but the good taste of ages has hallowed his effusions, and, on this account, they furnish an authoritative exposition. In order to estimate aright these revelations, let us glance at their author as

a man.

He was, then, in relation to society, one of the most important personages of his time. With many his name is merely associated with the idle dreams of a minstrel, and his existence is recalled as that of an imaginative devotee, who lived chiefly to indulge his private tastes. That the case was far otherwise is indisputable. Few prominent men of that era so richly deserve the title of patriot. His love of country was fervent and wise, and his efforts in her behalf unremitted. The frequent and momentous political embassies to which he was appointed, and the cheerful zeal with which they were fulfilled, is proof enough of his political talent and noble enterprise.

The high consideration he enjoyed, both with princes and people, his steady friendship with individuals of high rank and influence, the interest he manifested in Rienzi's unsuccessful efforts to restore Italy to freedom, his voluminous correspondence on questions relating to the public weal, evince, among other facts, that he enacted no useless or ignoble part on the world's broad arena. Nor is this all. If Petrarch excelled the mass of every age in the refinement and earnestness of his affections, he was also far beyond his own in knowledge and liberality. We can trace in his writings the slumbering embers of the flame afterwards kindled by Luther, and the same devotion to liberty, which in the progress of time, found scope and realization on this continent. The great principles of free government and religious inquiry, that in our day have become actual experiments, are discoverable in the ardent speculations and elevated desires of the bard of Laura. He was the uncompromising advocate of civil and ecclesiastical reform, and threw all the weight of his literary reputation into the scale of progress. This end he promoted more signally by learned researches and the circulation of ancient manuscripts, so as to become identified with the revival of letters. These objects were methodically pursued throughout his life. They formed no small portion of that external activity, which is so often wasted upon selfish objects, and this is in itself sufficiently glorious to vindicate his life from the charge of inutility.

In estimating his moral traits, it should be remembered that the sunshine of fame made him conspicuous, and subjected his behaviour to a keener scrutiny than is the lot of the obscure. We may safely deem the judgment of contemporaries critical and searching, especially as it is the usual fate of superior gifts to attract a large share of envy as well as admiration. The biographers

of Petrarch have gleaned but two authentic charges, which can, even in the view of more recent and enlightened moralists, sully the pervading brightness of his character. He was the father of two illegitimate children-for whose temporal and spiritual welfare he amply provided. Such a fact, in those times, was not only regarded as venial from the license of manners that prevailed, but considered especially excusable in churchmen, on account of their obligation to celibacy. All testimonies concur in representing his habitual course as remarkably exemplary, and the disgust and indignation he evidently feels at the dissolute manners of the papal court, as well as long years of pure and devoted love and studious retirement, assure us that Petrarch's soul was far above the baseness of habitual dissipation. He may have lapsed from strict virtue, but he never lost for her either his allegiance or sympathy. In an age famous for libertinism and courtly adulation, he preserved to an extraordinary degree, his self-respect and purity of heart. His native instincts rendered the pursuit of wisdom, communion with the great and good of past times, the society of the learned and gifted, and the study of nature infinitely more attractive than any less ennobling pleasures. Compared with those around him, his example was worthy of all praise, and a sincere vein of conscientious sensibility and repentant musing, mingles with and lends pathos and dignity to his strains of love. The other charge which has been preferred against him is vanity. This, however, seems from his own confession and the opinion of others, to have been a youthful weakness, chiefly manifested by a fondness for dress, which disappeared as soon as his mind and heart became interested. He is described as quite indifferent to wealth, and of a singularly reserved and meek demeanour. He was by nature and habit a severe student, and delighted to

meditate in the open air, and alternately lead the life of a recluse and a traveller, filling his mind with knowledge and reflection, and his heart with thoughts of love and piety.

Such was the man who on the morning of Good Friday, at the church of Santa Clara, at Avignon, met Laura; their eyes encountered, and from that moment the destiny of his affections was sealed. The very idea suggested by this fact,-that of love at first sight, doubtless appears to the majority of readers, particularly those of northern origin, a piece of absurd romance. Yet, let us endeavour to regard it calmly and thoughtfully, and discover if there be no actual foundation for such an experience. Truthful human beings, whom the world has not perverted, express in their looks and manners, their genuine souls. Where there is depth of feeling, and pride of character, this natural language is still more direct and impressive. Such individuals, indeed, habitually conceal their moods and sentiments under a veil of passionless reserve, or animal gaiety; and when this is drawn aside, their tones and features only speak with more eloquent significance from the previous restraint. No medium is more true and earnest in thus conveying the heart's language than the eye. The cold and worldly may have deadened its beams by selfishness and cunning, and the sensualist can only summon thither an earthly and base fire; but they of child-like frankness and undimmed enthusiasm, may utter by a glance more than words could unfold. It is then not a mere vagary of imagination, but a rational and perfectly credible thing, that the meeting of the eyes of two candid, noble beings, should reveal them essentially to each other; and such, we doubt not, was the case with Petrarch and Laura. A very important principle is involved in such an incident. It proves that Love, in its highest sense, is

properly Recognition. Any man of winning address and knowledge of the world, may, by appeals to the passions, the interests or the unappropriated tenderness of a guileless, confiding woman, win her to himself. But let him not imagine that such an outrage to the majesty of Love, will secure to him its richest fruits. His pride may be gratified by the dependence of a fair and gentle being, and her endearments may afford a delightful solace in his listless hours. Over her person, her time, her actions, he may exercise a permanent control. If she be infirm of purpose, she may become a domestic slave, the creature or, at least, the honoured pet of her liege lord. The mass of women may, and probably do not feel conscious that their dearest rights have been thus invaded; and men, in general, doubtless think that their disinterestedness is sufficiently indicated by providing all the external sources of comfort for the objects of their choice. There is but a limited degree of conscious wrong on either side. When no deep affections, no intense sympathies crave gratification, society gains much, and the individual loses nothing by conventional alliances. But in questions of this nature, it must be ever remembered, that there are here and there, scattered among the multitude of human beings, souls that do not slumber, hearts that have burst the chrysalis of vegetative life, and feel the tides of individual desires, hopes, and aspirations fearfully sway their pulses. Sacred are the pure instincts, holy before God, if not before man, the spiritual necessities of such as these. If self-knowledge has come too late, if their outward fate is sealed before their inward wants have been revealed to their own consciousness, then to religion and self-control must they look to enable them to fulfil the letter of the bond. Yet, in so doing, if they possess any true depth of character, they will never compromise their highest privilege; they will