him not confined to his literary life. He was never personal in his first attacks, and he never replied to the personalities of others. He even affected so complete a contempt for them as to republish and distribute some of the libels written against himself. Perhaps he is not aware that this apparent moderation is anything rather than a proof of his indifference to attack.

In England these demonstrations of contempt would be suspected, and would be ridiculous; and even in Italy Mr. Foscolo has been justly charged with pushing them to an unjust exposure of men who were the most disposed to be his literary friends and admirers. He published nearly 300 pages in large octavo upon the translated elegy of Catullus, 'De Coma Berenices;' the whole lucubration being a grave and continued irony on the verbal criticisms of the commentators. Some of the learned fell into the snare; and Foscolo, who had issued only a few copies, now added a ‘Farewell' to his readers, in which he repays their praises by exposing the mysteries and the abuses of the philological art. Those whom he had deceived must have been not a little irritated to find that his frequent citations were invented for the occasion, and that his commentary had been purposely sprinkled with many of the grossest faults. Neither the merit nor the success of such a pleasantry can be intelligible to an English reader; but it should be told that Foscolo, with the same patriotism which seems the devouring passion of his soul, contrived this deception partly to warn the commentators that it was their duty also, as well as that of other writers, to devote themselves to the excitement of generous sentiments in the bosom of their country

Foscolo is an excellent scholar his knowledge of Greek is far superior to that of many of his most distin

*See La Chioma di Berenice,' Milano, 1803. 'La Bibliothèque Italienne,' a French review, published at Turin, and 'Il Diario Italiano' for November and December of the same year.

guished fellow-countrymen: he writes Latin with facility and elegance. A little book in that language, called Didymi Clerici Prophetæ Minimi Hypercalypseos, liber singularis,' has been attributed, and, it is believed, justly, to his pen. It appears to be a satire against the journalists, the learned pensioners of the court, the Royal Institute, and the senate of the kingdom of Italy; but it is an enigma from beginning to end to any one not furnished with the key to the individual allusions. This obscurity showed at least, that he did not care to engage the multitude on his side, and that he was indifferent as to the dispersion of his own feelings of contempt for the men of letters of the Italian

court.

The lady whose opinions have been before quoted, talks of the literary intolerance of Foscolo as the offspring of his reflection, not of his disposition: "A warm friend, but sincere as the mirror itself, that neither deceives nor conceals. Kind, generous, grateful; his virtues appear those of savage nature, when seen in the midst of the sophisticated reasoners of our days. He would tear his heart from his bosom, if he thought that a single pulsation was not the unconstrained and free movement of his soul."*

Although Foscolo had studied under Cesarotti, and had been encouraged by the voice of that generous master, he loudly disapproved of the translation of Homer, and more decidedly still of the Pronéa. He was a long time nearly connected with Monti, who frequently mentions him with applause; and, in his illustrations of Persius, foretells that his young friend will, one day or the other, be the first poet of the age. In the last years of the French government, an intimacy with Foscolo was not favourable to court

* Intollerante più per riflessione che per natura: amico fervido; ma sincero come lo specchio, che non inganna, nè illude. Pietoso, generoso, riconoscente, pare un selvaggio in mezzo a' filosofi de' nostri dì. Si strapperebbe il cuore dal petto se liberi non gli paressero i risalti tutti del suo cuore. See Ritratti, scritti dalla Contessa Isabella Albrizzi.

promotion. Monti and the future Corypheus of the poets became cool to each other, and would not willingly meet in the same society; but either reciprocal fear, or the memory of their ancient alliance has not allowed any written attack from either adversary. An Englishman wished, when at the Scala theatre at Milan in 1816, to give the Death of Ortis' as a subject for an improvisatore; but a friend said to him, "It will not be chosen: Monti is behind the scenes, and will hear nothing said in favour of Ortis or of Foscolo." The same influence, joined to that of the police, was pronounced fatal also to the Apotheosis' of Alfieri. There is a story current respecting the last interview of these two poets, which may illustrate and contrast the character of both. They were dining at the house of Count Veneri, minister of the public treasury: Monti, as usual, launched out against Alfieri, according to the court tone of the day: "All his works. together," said he, are not worth a song of Metastasio's " Stop there, Sir," interrupted Foscolo," or I will twirl round you and your party as well as ever top was whipped by a school-boy." As far as respects his other great contemporaries, he has never spoken of Pindemonte but with esteem, nor ever names Alfieri without admiration. The instructions he received from Parini have mingled a tender recollection with the reverence with which he dwells upon his character, in the letters of Ortis.

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In spite of his opposition to the French, and of his repeated declaration, that the representative rights belong only to the landed proprietors, it is easy to discern that Foscolo is a pupil of the Revolution. In truth, he imputes the misfortunes of Italy to the cowardice, the ignorance, and the egotism of the nobles. He owes his popularity rather to his conduct than to his maxims, or even to his works; for the first are not qualified to obtain the favour of the majority, and the second are above the common class of readers.

The admirers of Napoleon may behold in this author a rebellious subject, but a sincere eulogist wherever he has thought fit to praise. He was confined five months, and

suffered other persecutions, which did not, however, make him lose sight of the distinction between the judicious administrator and the oppressive usurper of his country. The truth is, that Napoleon conferred upon Italy all the benefit that a country divided and enslaved could possibly expect from a conqueror. To him she owed her union; to him, her laws and her arms: her new activity, and her recovered martial spirit, were inspired by his system. But Foscolo was a citizen of the Venetian republic which Napoleon destroyed, and there exists in Italy a very numerous class, who consider the independence of their country as the first indispensable step towards her regeneration. Foscolo, as well as some others, who, when the Italian republic was degraded into a subsidiary kingdom, were named amongst the electoral colleges, contrived never to attend, because he would not take the oath of allegiance. But he did not find it impossible to live under the dominion of the French. The Austrians in their turn required from him personally an oath of fidelity to their Emperor. Foscolo refused to them what he would not grant to Napoleon. But he could not breathe under their depressive system. He became a voluntary exile, and his adieus to his countrymen are couched in the language of proud resignation :

"Let not the minister of the Austrian police continue to persecute me in my Swiss asylum; tell him that I am far from wishing to excite the hopeless passions of my fellow citizens. We were in want of arms; they were given to us by France, and Italy had again a name amongst the nations. In the access of our inflammatory fever, the loss of blood could not harm us, and the death of a single man would have inevitably produced changes favourable to all the nations who should have courage to profit by the happy juncture. But it was ordained otherwise: the affairs of the world have been turned into another and an unexpected channel. The actual disease of Italy is a slow lethargic consumption, she will soon be nothing but a lifeless carcass; and her generous sons should only weep in silence, without the impotent complaints and the mutual recrimination of slaves."*

*

"Senza querele impotenti, nè recriminazioni da servi." This

It is hoped that the preceding pages may have furnished a general notion of the state of literature in Italy during the last fifty years. More extensive limits would have comprised more copious extracts from the cited authors, would have noticed other writers, and would have included not only a view of the education of the Italians, but of their style and taste, and present productions in all the branches of literature; little indeed has been done in comparison of what remains to do, but on the reception of what has been already offered will depend whether anything more shall be attempted. A great question at this moment divides the learned world in Italy into the partisans of classical poetry, and of the poetry of romance. The first, of course, range Homer in the front of their battle; and the others, who have adopted the division of Madame de Stael, and talk of a literature of the North, and a literature of the South, have still the courage to depend upon Ossian for their principal champion. The first would adhere solely to the mythology of the ancients; the other party would banish it totally from all their compositions. It would not be very difficult to state the true merits of this idle inquiry, on the decision of which may, however, depend the turn taken by the literature of the next half century. But this also must be left for another opportunity. In the mean time it may be allowed to mention, that the Italians themselves are far from ungrateful to those foreigners, especially the English, who evince a desire to be acquainted with their literature: but that they are for the most part surprised at our original misconceptions, and do not a little complain of the false impressions communicated by the ignorance of those, even amongst their expatriated countrymen, who have presumed to be our instructors.

was inserted in the Lugano Gazette, for April 14, 1815, in an article written to answer a book with the title Memoria storica della Rivoluzione di Milano, seguito il 20 Aprile, 1814,' Parigi 1815. Published by some senators of the kingdom of Italy.

VOL. II.

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