Atone the evil, and resolve me back I was invoked into this world of woe!" This blasphemous apostrophe leads on to reflections of a singularly appalling character, in which the original non-existence of the Universe is considered as an entire and beautiful perfection that was broken at the creation. "These rolling worlds of stars and miseries Are but its wreck and fragments; all the orbs While he stands venting these wild and desperate fancies, the demon comes to him again, and urges him to selfdestruction; but he rejects this counselling with a stern and sublime vehemence. In this crisis he hears the voice of the venerable Adam at a distance calling on him to return, and smitten with the sense of guilt, and conscious of the sorrow he has occasioned, he rushes from the spot, pursued by the fiend, and the scene changes to a dark and woody valley where he enters, and exhausted by fatigue and agitation, sinks upon the ground. The demon believes him dying, and exulting in having gained his soul, summons together the evil spirits who are abroad on the earth to bear it-their first trophy-in triumph to perdition. But while they are gathering in, and hovering and gloating over their prey, a sudden brightness opens in the skies, and the angel of mercy descending, disperses the fiends, and compells the victor demon to resign his prize, who in the meantime had fallen asleep. The gracious influences of the celestial visitant are shed over Cain as he lies on the ground, and when he awakes he discovers a fresh and flowery scene, glittering with sunny dewdrops, and joyous with the melody of birds. His frenzy has subsided, and melted to humility by the universal benevolence that breathes and smiles around him, he kneels, and with a lowly and contrite spirit, confesses his guilt and unworthiness, and resigns himself unto the compassion of his Maker, whom, in the delirium of remorse, he had so awfully defied. His prayer and penitence are accepted, and the spirit of Abel, in the glorious vestment of its heavenly change, invites him to partake of the joys of the celestial paradise. The penitent, thus assured of pardon and mercy, dies in the confident expectation of a happy resurrection. Notwithstanding the gravity with which this critique is managed, we suspect that the author intends it for an anticipatory quiz of Lord Byron's forthcoming Poem of CAIN. C. N. MIDNIGHT DESPONDINGS. A Sonnet. Tis midnight, and there is no moon in heaven: Mid shapes that startle, and mid shades that freeze :- Ever to man unknown, where only dwell Serpent and beckoning forms, the vision broods, A ON THE DECLINE OF THE TUSCAN ASCENDENCY IN ITALIAN THE infinite superiority attained by the Tuscan writers, over all the other Italian authors in the early ages of their literature, and successfully maintained for a period of four hundred years, had inspired a general belief that the highest excellence in composition, and the utmost originality in point of thought, must, with few exceptions, be sought for in vain at a distance from the banks of the Arno. In Tuscany more especially, the pride of a noble literary ancestry had blinded all classes to the decline of their ancient fame, and insensible to the long and death-like torpidity of the Academicians, they still continued to dream over the time when the chiefs of the famous "Quatordici Ambasciatori" might be numbered among the citizens of Florence. More lately, however, the zeal and ability displayed throughout the Lombard states, and in other districts of Italy, has greatly tended to dispel this illusion, and the Tuscans find that something more substantial than a proud reference to the deeds of other days, must be exhibited as a proof of their existing superiority. The director of the Biblioteca Italiana, a Milanese Journal, has been among the most active and successful in his endeavours to break the sceptre of the Tuscans, and to assert not only the equality, but the superiority of the other Italian states for more than a hundred years. The countrymen of Dante and Boccacio were, of course, horror-struck, and considered such an assertion as little less than heresy. Much idle disputation followed, in which there was, perhaps, on both sides somewhat more of declamation than of argument. Yet to an indifferent spectator, facts seem to do more for the Lombard party, than for the standard-bearers of the Cruscan Academy. A long letter was written by a gentleman of Empoli, accusing the director of the Biblioteca Italiana, of blind injustice in thus invading the majesty of Florence. To this the director replied by a statement of his reasons for lowering the Tuscans in the ranks of modern literature, and we have translated the most material part of it, that our readers may judge for themselves, whether some of the other Italian states have not now an equally good claim to literary pres cedence. The defence by the Tuscan of Empoli has greatly deceived my expectations. By placing before me his much boasted literary riches, of which I, in common with all Italy, had hitherto remained ignorant, he would have increased the patrimony of our common country, for we have a community in interests and cares. Whatever is the cause of detriment to him and his brethren, is equally hurtful to the national honour, of which all good Italians should be alike regardful. It is, therefore, far from being an agreeable task for me to confute him, and to bring forward proofs which may prove hurtful to the splendour of Tuscany, which forms so beautiful and so illustrious a portion of our peninsula. It is this reflection alone which consoles me, that by shewing how other parts of Italy have attained a rank equal to if not higher than that from which Tuscany has fallen, I convert the partial loss into a national gain, or at least prove that what has been abstracted from one side, has been added with interest to another. Italy in the 18th and 19th centuries, has greatly excelled the preceding ages in every branch of useful discipline; but Tuscany has not taken in that elevation the part which she held of old, and which she ought to have retained, in order to preserve her right to that precedency and importance to which it seems both she and her Academy still consider themselves as entitled. "The Tuscans appear to have remained stationary amid the advancement of the other provinces of Italy, and especially of those of the north. For some time past, the best Italian poets and prose writers have not been from Tuscany; and this truth, not easily comprehended by the Tuscans, must have greatly contributed to lessen that authority which the tribunal of the Crusca enjoyed in the days of Magalotti, Salvini and Redi. The people of Tuscany are the best speakers, and its literary men the worst writers in Italy." These are my assertions, and they have for a foundation our modern literary his tory. The hasty and general nature of my proœmium* necessarily debarred me from entering into any thing like a detail of circumstances. But I am now forced to follow another course, and we must proceed to facts. Let us take a rapid glance of the literary history of Italy, from the commencement of the 18th century down to the present time. One hundred and twenty years is a good tract of time, and of him who has slept during all that period it is surely no calumny to own that he has " slept a long sleep." Now it may be asked, where were the flowers of all knowledge to be found during this long period? In all other parts of Italy sooner than in Tuscany. Who were the greatest and most learned men? Gravina, Muratori, Maffei, Corvini, Pacciaudi, Saverio, Mattei, &c. &c. not one of whom is Tuscan. Who was the Prince of Antiquaries? Ennio Quirino Visconti, a Roman. Who is the chief of the living archæologists and lapidaries? The Abate Morcelli, provost of Chiari. Who attained the highest rank as a writer of political history during the above mentioned period? Will the Tuscans name as such their Galluzzi, their Cambiaso, their Pignotti? But who would place these names in competition with the great luminaries of history, with Bianchini, Giannone, Muratori, Denina? And who is our most illustrious living historian, proclaimed as such by the voice of the whole Italian nation? Without any doubt Botta the Piedmontese. In the history of the arts, Tuscany was wont to boast of Vasari, Baldinucci, Dati, now almost forgotten and neglected; and the lead in that department of literature has long been taken from the Tuscans. The Storia della pittura of the Abate Lanzi-the Cose del Milizia-the Lettere Senesi of P. della Valle-the Cenacolo of Leonardo, by the painter Bossi-the Storia della Scultura of Cicognara-the Enciclopedia Metodica Critico-ragionata of the Abate Zani, are among the greatest and most remarkable works of the times, and their authors are all from other districts than Tuscany. The Tuscans have only the works of Gori Gandellini, augmented by De Angelis, and some few things by the Canonico Moreni, whose principal merit consists not so much in the style, as in his great tenderness for the sacred office of the Inquisition. To these works we may well oppose those of Signorelli, Foscarini, Ticozzi, Mayer, and many others. And now that we speak of the fine arts, by whom is the only History of Music which Italy can yet boast of? By a Bolognese, the Father Martini. And who is the author of those Lettere (Haydine) Sulla Estetica Musicale, which all classes have read with so much delight? One of our own Milanese, G. Carpani. To whom has been granted the first rank among the writers of the literary history of Italy? No Tuscan will dare to contend with Tiraboschi, the Bergamasque. And all the other works of the same class, which preceded and followed that of Tiraboschi, from whence have they proceeded? Crescimbeni's is from Macerata, Quadrio's from the Valtellina, Bettenelli's from Mantova, Signorelli's from Naples, Foscarini's from Venice, Mazzuchelli's and Corniani's from Breschia, Serassi's from Bergamo; and so it may be said of many other works, which we here omit, per brevita. If we turn our regards upon philosophy, we shall find, that the first and deepest thinkers have been produced out of Tuscany. It would suffice to name Vico alone, without alluding to Genovesi, Stellina, Pietro Verri, and others. And if to philosophy we add politics, and the principles of legislation, where is the Tuscan name which can stand to be confronted with Gravina, Niccola Spedalieri, Filangeri, Beccaria? In political economy, no Italian writer equals Genovisi, Galiani, Pietro Verri, and no Tuscan can be measured with our Gioja. Indeed, this part of philosophical discipline, prior to and since the time of Pompeo, Neri, was entirely neglected in Tuscany, but has, on the contrary, been cultivated with success and honour among ourselves, by Mangotti, Valeriani, Cagnazzi, Bosellini, Ressi, Beretta, Padovani, and many others. Sacred eloquence does not boast a single writer of celebrity in Tuscany. * Discorso Proemiale premesso al Volume XVII. del Giornale Letterario-Scientifico intitolato Biblioteca Italiana. Di Guiseppe Acerbi. Milano, 1820. All those who have distinguishsd themselves during the period of which we speak, have been foreign to the banks of the Arno. Tornielli is a Novarese; Quirico Rossi, a Vicentine; Granelli, a Genovese ; and Turchi is from Parma. If the Tuscans boast of Orsi among the Cardinals, we shall remember us of Bentivoglio, Alberoni, and Gerdil; and that, since the days of Leo X., no Tuscan has added the glory of letters to the splendour of the triple crown, and that such Popes as have since built to themselves a name as literati or politicians, have been either Bolognese, like Benedict XIV. or from Rimini, like Clement XIV., or from Cesena, like Pius the VI. which a reverend instructor of youth ought not to remember with praise from the chair of an academy. The further we proceed, the stronger the arguments become in favour of my assertions. Dramatic, tragic, and comic poetry, exhibit in Tuscany a mighty blank. All the reformers of the Italian theatres-all the greatest writers, the capiscuola, have flourished out of Tuscany. Apostolo Zeno was a Venetian; the alone* Metastasio was a Roman; the author of Merope, Maffei, was a Veronese; the mighty Alfieri was from Asti; the Moliere of Italy, Goldoni, was Venetian, as was also his rival Gozzi; the first of those now living, the advocate Nota, is a Piedmontese; Giraud, his competitor, is a Roman; Albertoni is from Bologna, and Federici from Turin. Indeed, it is much to be lamented that comedy, which might have attained so much of grace from the lips of the Tuscan people, more especially in the embellishment of familiar dialogue, should have been a field fruitful only beyond the Tuscan territory; and where the written language is not to be found, except in the pens of the literati. Let us pass to the lyric poets of this and the preceding century, and inquire who can be put in competition with Manfredi of Bologna; with Frugoni of Genoa; with Varano of Romagna; with Agostino Paradisi of Reggio; with Bondi of Mantua; and, above all, with Parini of Milan? Will the Tuscans speak of their Pignotti? Their own Abate Cardella, Professor in the seminary of Pisa, would fain class among the best writers Battacchi and Casti names at which modesty blushes, and But if Pignotti should be brought forward, who remains to compare with Savioli the Bolognese; with Gherardo Rossi and Rolli the Romans; with Salandri of Mantua; with Minzoni of Ferrara; with Bertola of Rimini ; with Cerretti of Modena; with Lamberti of Reggio; with Mazza of Parma; with Cesarotti of Padua, and a hundred others? And what living Tuscan poet can be opposed to Pindemonte of Verona; to Arici of Brescia; to Foscolo of the Ionian Isles; to Paradisi (I mean Giovanni) of Reggio; to Forti; to Manzoni of Milan; and especially to the illustrious compatriot of Ariosto, Monti? Among the translators in verse, the Tuscans have Marchetti; but are they ignorant to whom we owe Porpora, the translator of Statius, and all the others, the first of their day? such as Manara, Bondi, Vincenzi, Solari, Gherardini, (Gio.) Leoni, Pindemonte, Foscolo, Strocchi, Venini, Bellotti, Monti? In matters satyrical, they had indeed Menzini. (Settano need not be mentioned, as he wrote in Latin.) But during the period which we are discussing, they have no poet in that department to compare with Parini and Zanoja; and that may be said without any disrespect to D'Elci, though he, among the living, is certainly good. In didactic poetry, Tuscany can name neither the best, nor the good, nor the middling, and Quella cetra gentil che sulla riva * * * * Poichè con voce piu canora e viva Celebrato ebbe Pale ed Aristeo, when taken from Alamanni and Ruccellai, from the ancient oak on which it had been suspended, was by no other poet saving these two, even touched in Tuscany; and to Spolverini alone did it answer not disdainfully. Indeed, so enchanted was the didactive muse with the verses which sung, "Il dono almo del Ciel candido riso," that she never more abandoned this northern part of Italy; and from *Chalmers, Spolverini she passed to Betti, who sung the praises of the silk-worm; then to Lorenzi, whose sweet strains made the mountains of Verona echo with precepts for their cultivation; then to Tiraboschi, whose songs so enliven the season of fowling, the great autumnal amusement of the Bergamasques; afterwards to Ghirardelli, the poet of the gardens; and, lastly, to Arici, who sung of the pastoral life and the culture of the olive. But as I have also accused them of great penury of prose writers, let us see whether such accusation be calumnious or true. Salvini, Cocchi, Lami, Giglj, these are their luminaries. But are such the names from which Italian literature derives its chief honour during the period of which we treat? Italy is proud of greater riches; and the Florentine Academy itself must bend its front to the names of Pompei, Algarotti, Bianconi, the two Gozzi, the three Zanotti, Rezzonico, Maffei, Mattei, Bettinelli, Cesarotti, Vanetti, Alessandro Verri, &c. &c., of whose works editions without number are spread through Italy, and in Tuscany itself. If from the dead we should wish to pass to the living, and inquire who, among the prose writers of the present day, are acknowledged by all Italy as the most beautiful, the purest, the most correct, assuredly no one would search for such in Tuscany, but in Verona, Milan, Piacenza, Parma, Rome, Naples, Palermo, and elsewhere. And that which further adds to their poverty, and that of their academy particularly, is, that the Tuscan tongue, their own exclusive patrimony, so to speak, even the very vocabulary of the Crusca, was neither illustrated nor increased by them, but by us; of which the many voluminous labours on this subject, all compiled out of Tuscany, afford ample proof. Such was the great Dizionario criticoEnciclopedico-universale della lingua Italiana, compiled by Alberti, the Piedmontese; such the great vocabulary of Bergantini, of Padua, and all its additions; such the Gran Vocabolario della Crusca, increased by above fifty thousand articles by the Father Cesari of Verona; such the Dizionario di Marina, in three languages, by Count Stratico of Padua; and such is the Gran Vocabolario, with which a society of literary men is at this time engaged at Bologna. Even the Ri VOL. X. mario Toscano di voci piane sdrucciole e tronche, a work, says the Pisan Professor Cardella, "tanto utile ai cultori della volgar poesia," and the Rimario Toscano itself were compiled by a Piedmontese, Rosaco; and all the best vocabularies, Italian and Latin, Italian and French, Italian and English, Italian and German, have been formed out of Tuscany, by Facciolati and Forcellini of Padua, by Alberti and Baretti of Piedmont, by Borroni and De Filippi of Lombardy; so much so indeed, that neither their academicians nor literary men knew how to be useful in the unhappy times of their servitude; that is, when a hard decree had transplanted into their official chambers, and affixed to the corners of their beautiful Florence, proclamations, notices, and laws, in the French language, rather than in their native tongue. That appeared to have been the fit moment for their philosophers to penetrate the genius of the two languages; for their academicians to institute comparisons, and to profit by the labours of the French in the arts, trades, and manufactures, and to provide Italy with a vocabulary, which would serve as a guide in the nomenclature of household implements and plenishing, (arnesi) of mechanical utensils, of instruments and their parts; a labour which is still wanting, which the Tuscans owe to the rest of Italy, and which writers, not Tuscan, feel the want of every day. But who would believe that neither an elementary book of any value on the language, nor any good grammar had seen the light in Tuscany during all this period? The best book on the verbs is by Mastrofini of Rome; the most beautiful work on the philosophy of the language is that of Cesarotti of Padua, and the Grammar of the Tuscan tongue, so much praised, and of which there have been a hundred edi tions, is by Corticelli of Bologna; " il quali (these are the words of a Tuscan, Cardella of Pisa,) ad istanza degli accademici della crusca chi applaudirono sommamente a questa sua opera, compilò pure il libro contenente Cento discorsi sopra la Toscana eloquenza." By which it would appear, that the Aca demicians, for these last 120 years, have limited themselves to applauding and ordering, rather than themselves performing any useful labour. But it is time to put an end to this 2 T |