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micians at Florence. He died of a dropsy in September, 1704, aged 54.

The Art of Italian Poetry,' is divided into five books or cantos. In the first of which, the poet opens with showing the difficulty of poetising successfully; and that art must unite with nature, neither being sufficient of itself. He attempts to prove, that the chief foundation of good writing is a critical acquaintance with the idiom of the language exhibited: the advantage of imitating good writers; the certain success of dignity and perspicuity: that the poet should possess promptitude of rhyming, and evince ease and fluency, not by negligence and carelessness, but by a well-sustained and regulated balance. The Tuscan language, in its infancy contracted and mean, was meliorated, he tells us, by degrees, and principally by the labours of Petrarch. He exhorts the poet to submit his writings to the ordeal of severe scrutiny, and repeatedly revise them if he wish them to acquire durability.

The poem is written in terza rima, or, as the Welch archæologist would denominate it, in triads; a measure, in which we shall observe, for the benefit of the English reader, that the termination of the middle verse, of every preceding stanza, regulates the rhyme for the first and third of the subsequent. The first canto opens as follows:

• Erto è il giogo di Pindo: anime eccelse
A sormontar la perigliosa cima
Tra numero infinito Apollo scelse;

Chè la parte lasciar terrestre ed ima
Sol quegli può, che per natura ed arte
Sovra degli altri il suo pensier sublima.

Oh tu, che prendi ad illustrar le carte,
Deh guarda in pria come 'l tuo cor s' accende
Di quel fuoco che Febo a i suoi comparte;

Però che in vano un nome eterno attende
Chi di grand' ali ha disarmato il fianco,
Nè, qual' aquila altera, al cielo ascende.

Di paterno timor pallido e bianco,
Gridò Dedalo al figlio, allor che il vide
Per l' etereo sentiero venir manco;

E quei del folle ardir tosto si avvide
Giovinetto infelice, allor che in pena
Preda e ludibrio fu d' onde omicide.

La favola è per te, che adegui appena
L' umil colomba, é credi aver le penne
Cinte d' invitta infaticabil lena;

Come se la barchetta che sostenne
Un picciol flutto, andar voglia del pari
Con l' alte navi e l'Olandesi antenne.' P. 17.

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The English reader must accept of the following translation, in which, to give him a clearer insight into this order of versification, we have followed the original in the mechanism of its rhymes:

Steep is th' Aonian mount:-the few sublime,
Of nobler soul, its arduous peak who gain,
Apollo calls from crowds that fain would climb:
For he alone can quit th' inferior plain
Whom tutored art and nature join t' inspire,
Whose heavenly visions earth and time disdain.
Thou, who would'st fondly clasp th' illustrious lyre,
O, pause-and mark, if yet thy secret soul
Burn with the blaze of Phœbus' sacred fire:

For vain his hope of Fame's eternal scroll,
Adown whose sides no plumy pinions wave,
Nor bear his eagle-flight from pole to pole.

Loud shriek'd his spirit, and his heart misgave,
When Dedalus his sinking son survey'd
Down headlong hurl'd through Ether's spacious cave;
And soon the young adventurer, sore dismay'd,
Rued his vain daring, as, in vengeance dire,
He fell, the prey of waves that o'er him played.

This is thy tale, who, skimming scarce the mire,
Yield'st to the dove in flight; yet deem'st thy powers
Upborne by wings no distance e'er can tire.

As though the boat, some shelter'd stream that scours,
Could with the boldest bark of Britain vie,
That dares old Ocean when the tempest lours."

The Italian reader must forgive us for translating Olandesi by the term Britain: we are acquainted with no word that will so well express the poet's meaning in modern days. In the course of this canto, we have been particularly pleased with the account of the gradual polish produced by the workman who plies the Pierian anvil.

• Così per lunga età potè vedersi
Chi fabbro fosse alla Pieria incude
De' carmi suoi e risonanti e tersi. P. 28.

We have also been highly gratified with the well-deserved panegyric paid to Petrarc, the maggior Tosco, as our poet denominates him, to whom the chaste and naked Graces first unveiled themselves in modern days: whence Bembo, in his ottavi, as is well observed by the annotator,

< Il Petrarca è il maggiore tra' Lirici.'

Menzini has, occasionally, copied his countryman Vida'; but he has far more frequently, and more closely, copied Horace, who may also, in some sort, be called his countryman, though of an anterior language as well as æra.

The second book commences with observations on the epopee, the origin of which, in Italian literature, the poet attributes conjointly to Tasso and Ariosto, whose respective merits he duly discriminates. He advises an intimate connexion of part with part, and that the customs and manners of the time be rigidly a adhered to. Above all things, he repudiates obscenity of expression. He then adverts to the two celebrated tragedies of Solimano and Torrismondo, and points out the time and intention of tragedy and comedy. He maintains that the writers of modern comedy have departed essentially from the appropriate character they assumed in former times; and points out the vices into which they most frequently run. He concludes with an observation to which we can scarcely accede; to wit, that comedy, being a species of poetry, ought not to be destitute of verse. In these trammels it was unquestionably exhibited at Athens and Rome: but it was often a looser verse, verso più sciolto, than even Italy herself has exhibited in any modern period. There is a stateliness, a dignity, and solemn march in tragedy, which appear to demand, and to be infinitely improved by, the introduction of metre; but the unrestrained freedom, the playfulness, of comedy, seem to allow of a considerable deviation from the sober shackles in which the tragic muse exhibits herself to most advantage The excellent examples we possess in our own country, in France, and Germany, prohibit us from wishing that this maxim of our poet may ever be generally adopted. If adopted at all, it might, perhaps, be most successfully applied to the Italian theatres; but the prose specimens which have been of late afforded us by Goldoni, Alfieri, and various others, prevent us from being anxious for its adoption even in Italy. From our author's description of the common defects of comic performers, our comedians, of the present day, might glean no small degree of improvement: and we lament that our limits will not allow us to copy the passage.

In his third book, Menzini treats of dithyrambic, or, as it has more generally been styled, Bacchanalian poetry; of the satire, of the elegy, of pastoral and piscatory productions: in the course of which, the observations he offers, and the rules he lays down, evince an equal possession of taste, judgement, and genius. We have before observed that Horace appears to have been his chief model; and the opening of the present book cannot but forcibly remind us of him. It occurs as follows:

Ite lungi, o profani! ignaro e stolto
Volgo, gitene lungi! ecco a me stesso
Io son rapito, e a' sensi miei son tolto.
Con gli occhj della mente Ascra e Permesso
Parmi veder d' inusitata e nuova
Pompa vantarsi, e darne segno expresso;
Parmi vedir che da ogni tronco muova
La sacra vite, e d' ederacea fronde
Serto straniero al crin tesser mi giova.
Già nuovo entusiasmo in me s' infonde,
E già con le Bassaridi sorelle
Voglie nutrisco accese e furibonde.

Ecco varcano il rio leggieri e snelle;
Ecco la selva, ecco che 'l monte ascendono
E Satiri, ed Egipani con elle.

Voci d'alto mistero l' aria fendone,
Voci alte e fioche; e per l' Emonia balza
Lungo rimbombo ed indistinto rendono.' P. 61.

Hence! ye profane! ye brutish rabble, hence!
Ye brainless vulgar! Lo, I feel me rapt
Far from myself, from every swimming sense.
I see, I see, in mental vision lapt,
Permessus' banks, and Ascra's gelid vale,
Crowned with new pomp, with brighter foliage capt:
The sacred vine I see its tendrils trail
O'er every trunk, while wreaths of ivy dark
With freshening shade my bursting brows regale.
Round whirls my brain: I rave with madness stark;
Haste, haste, ye Bacchanals! your orgies weave;
Haste into flame, O rouse the rising spark.

See! light and airy yonder stream they cleave,
Dart through yon woodlands-while the satyr-train
High up the hills their warm embrace receive,

By Pan conducted.-Hark! th' empyreal plain
Hears the low whisper, and, in echo soft,
O'er Hæmus tells it to the list'ning swain.'

Sanazzaro is, in this book, regarded as the father of the piscatory eclogue. This, however, is a dignity which should rather have been couferred on Theocritus, from whose Fisherman Sanazzaro appears to have drawn his first idea of reconsecrating this subject to verse. We are rather surprised also, that no notice is taken of the old Αλιευτικη of Oppian, who was studied with so much success by our own Countrymen, Phineas, Fletcher, and Brown, whose piscatory

poems are still worthy of attentive perusal. The following stanzas are pretty, and offer an elegant turn:

'Prendi dell' alto, o costeggiando varca
Queste rive pescose e queste arene,
Indi ritorna di conchiglie carca.

Ninfe del mar, Partenopee Sirene,
Dite che a Filli questi doni io serbo,
Filli crudel, che tanto a vil mi tiene.

Misero! A che cantando io disacerbo
Il duro affanno? Ed oh; perchè si adesca
All' amo della speme il duolo acerbo?

Odimi, o Filli, e poi di me t' incresca;
Io voglio or ora in questo mar profondo
Farmi d' orridi mostri e gioco ed esca.' P. 73.

The fourth book is dedicated to devotional poetry, to the ode, to didactic poetry, and the sonnet. The author admits, that in sacred poetry it is difficult to obtain success : but he by no means conceives, with Dr. Johnson, that devotional subjects do not offer the muse a proper theatre for the exercise of her powers.

'Al risonar della celeste lira
Lieto risponde in armonia concorde
Ogni pianeta, e intorno al sol s' aggira.

Ah, menti umane! se non foste sorde
Al dolce suon ch' ha di rapir costume,
Non saria 'l vostro oprar dal ciel discorde;

Nè in questo basso e paludoso fiume
V' immergereste, ma sareste in guisa
D'aquila che alle sfere il volo assume.
Guardate il cielo; ivi l' istoria è incisa
Delle stupende maraviglie eterne,
Dio le segna in quel libro, e le divisa;
E se tanta bellezza ha nell' esterne
Sembianze il ciel, quanto più grande e vaga
Quella sarà ch' occhio mortal non scerne?
Quella che in Dio i raggi suoi propaga,
E coll' effluvio di sua luce immensa
L' anime elette e fortunate appaga?

Squarcisi omai questa sì folta e densa
Nebbia che 'l guardo offusca; e intanto aspiri
Nostr' alma al ciel colla sua brama intensa.'

P. 81.

• When wakes the heavenly lyre the spheres above
Join the blest concord in response sublime,
And round the sun in happier circles move.

O, minds of mortals!-the celestial chime
Could ye but hear, no longer would ye break
Th' accord of heaven with violence and crime:

CRIT. REV. Vol. 4. January, 1805.

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