nation than his brother, but he was naturally endowed with a certain delicacy of taste, the development of which, by an education truly classical, has secured for him the highest distinctions of literature. It is, however, a fact which any one will verify by a careful inquiry, that the poetry of Hippolitus Pindemonte is not relished by the generality of readers, who are nevertheless obliged to repeat his praises, having been taught that lesson by the learned distributors of literary fame, and by those who are by tacit consent allowed to possess the most cultivated taste. The same obedient crowd throng the play-houses to see the tragedies of his elder brother: but the fear of the same censors prevents them from praising the composition of their favourite dramas. Hippolitus has also written a tragedy on the death of Arminius, the German hero, whose conspiracy against the liberties of his country was punished with death from the hand of his own relations. The style of this piece is much applauded; the plan of it is on the model of Shakespeare, without, however, a total abandonment of those ancient rules which the Italians will allow no writer to violate with impunity. He has introduced chorusses sung by young warriors and maidens, and has thus combined, with some success, the English, the Greek, and the Italian drama: as to the French plan, the example and the system of Alfieri have created a persuasion that it is irreconcileable with the Italian theatre. Whether the Arminius' has stood the great test does not appear in the published play. Perhaps it has been never acted, and perhaps it may be as little qualified for any stage as the Caractacus' and the Elfrida' I would be for our own. 6 The works of Pindemonte which are most esteemed are some lyrical poems, and particularly his epistles in verse. These last contain a happy assemblage of qualities not easily combined. The Italians behold in them the amenity of Horace, the tenderness of Petrarch, and a certain gravity of ideas and sentiments, for which, perhaps, he is indebted to his acquaintance with English poetry. A similar transfusion of our style was before attempted by Mazza. The epistles are in blank verse, the favourite metre of the present day. This writer has not only borrowed the English style, but many individual passages of our poets, more particularly of Milton and of Gray. The plagiaries, if they may so be called, are inserted with considerable taste and effect. A great part of his youth was spent in travelling, and he lived long enough in England to become familiar with our literature. His 'Campestri' contain some copies of verses addressed to Englishmen. He speaks with enthusiastic admiration of their country; and it may be pleasing to see a fine description which he gives of a park, one of the characteristic beauties of England. Speaking of the practice of raising tombs in gardens, he continues "Così eletta dimora e sì pietosa L'Anglo talvolta, che profondi e forti Nelle sue tanto celebrate ville, Ove per gli occhi in seno, e per gli orecchi Di quelle valli, ed a que' colli in vetta! Che rase il prato ed agguagliollo; e i rami Si ardivano frappor, dotto corresse. Prospetti vaghi, inaspettati incontri, Bei sentieri, antri freschi, opachi seggi, Lente acque e mute all' erba e ai fiori in mezzo, Precipitanti d'alto acque tonanti, Dirupi di sublime orror dipinti, Campo e giardin, lusso erudito e agreste Semplicità-Quinci ondeggiar la messe, Pender le capre da un' aerea balza, La valle mugolar, bellare il colle : Curvarsi, e un tempio biancheggiar tra il verde ; capo Volge, e ti guarda; e in mezzo all' onda il cigno Spezzarsi, e scettri ? oh quanta strage! oh quanto E ai condottier trafitti alzar di tombe!" It was, however, neither our parks nor our learned leisure that awakened such lively feelings, and called forth such ardent vows for his return to England. Our women must share the merit of the inspiration, for Pindemonte has given the initial of some nymph who had the good fortune to be the object of his first real, as well as his first poetic, passion. It may perhaps be flattering to this person, if she is still in existence, to know that the poet's verses to Miss H *** are esteemed by the Italians as some of his best, and not unworthy of comparison with those which have immortalized the charms of Laura. They are in the form of a canzone, in the manner of Petrarch, and the two first stanzas are as follows: "O Giovenetta, che la dubbia via Di nostra vita, pellegrina allegra, Non che il Mondo ritorni A te quanto gli dai tu di dolcezza, E gran danno qui spesso è gran bellezza, Come andrà l'alma mia giojosa e paga! Di spargerti nel sen foco amoroso, Chè quanto è a me più noto il fiero ardore Mi parria se turbassi il tuo riposo. O per me impareranno Nuovi affanni i tuoi giorni, ed interrotti The whole of the remainder of this canzone gives a flattering picture of the beauty, of the modesty, and of the unaffected graces, of the English young women of that day; and the delicacy of such a passion redounds not less to the credit of the poet than of the lady, who must either have been naturally exempt from the ambition of coquetry, or must have taken great pains to conceal it. The same author has published a romance in prose, which, as far as regards the apparent purpose of the work, reminds us of Rasselas. But Pindemonte's Abarite' has failed to procure him the reputation of a distinguished prose writer. For purity, for erudition, for polish, it is not inferior to his verses, but it wants the charm of those pleasing compositions. His prefaces, his literary correspondence, and his little biographies, have never been seriously criticised, and are perhaps not worth it. He has been assailed, like all other writers, by repeated criticisms; but those criticisms have made little noise, and, however they may have really affected him, have not dis turbed his apparent tranquillity. The baseness of flattery, the bitterness of censure, will not be found in the personal allusions of Pindemonte. His writings, like his conversation, are those of an accomplished gentleman. He has always in theory been devoted to the cause of liberty; but at the coming of the French he laid down for his conduct one inviolable maxim-- Hide thy life; notwithstanding that his eldest brother and many of his friends have been actively engaged with different political parties.* He has confined himself to some poetical complaints of the ravages and degradation which the sword of the stranger has for so many ages inflicted on his unhappy country. From the beginning of the Revolution he has passed his time between Venice and Verona, his native town, and chiefly employed upon a translation of the Odyssey. There are many Italian translations of Homer, but not one has yet obtained that complete success which the voice of the nation, and the sanction of the learned world, alone can bestow. Pindemonte has, it is probable, judiciously selected this poem in preference to the Iliad,' which would have required more imagination and more energy than are the characteristics of his style. The two first books were published some time ago, and Italy was as impatient as such a prospect can make her, for the remainder of the performance. The whole translation appeared at the close of the last year, but what was the effect or judgment resulting from it, cannot, of course, yet be known. The poet's health has of late years been much on the decline, and obliged him to proceed leisurely with his occupation. He has passed his sixtieth year, and age and infirmity have made him devout. His spiritual exercises occupy a considerable portion of his time, and plunge him into that consuming solitude which a more rational religion would teach him to exchange for the active duties and social amusements of life. * See his own declaration in the preface to his 'Epistles,' published at Verona in the year 1805. |