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, Loud shriek'd his spirit, and his heart misgave, Down headlong hurl'd through Ether's spacious cave; He fell, the prey of waves that o'er him played. This is thy tale, who, skimming scarce the mire, As though the boat, some shelter'd stream that scours, 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 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 Con gli occhi della mente Ascra e Permesso Pompa vantarsi, e darne segno expresso; Voglie nutrisco accese e furibonde. Ecco varcano il rio leggieri e snelle ; Voci d'alto mistero l' aria fendone, Voci alte e fioche; e per l' Emonia balza Hence! ye profane! ye brutish rabble, hence! O'er every trunk, while wreaths of ivy dark See! light and airy yonder stream they cleave, By Pan conducted.-Hark! th' empyreal plain 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 conferred 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 Axieutian 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 Ninfe del mar, Partenopee Sirene, Misero! A che cantando io disacerbo Odimi, o Filli, e poi di me t' incresca; The fourth book is dedicated to devotional poetry, to the ode, to didactic poetry, and the sonnet. The author ad mits, 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 Guardate il cielo; ivi l' istoria è incisa Nebbia che 'l guardo offusca ; e intanto aspiri P. 81. When wakes the heavenly lyre the spheres above Join the blest concord in response sublime, O, minds of mortals!—the celestial chime Could ye but hear, no longer would ye break CRIT. REV. Vol. 4. January, 1805. F No longer would ye in this miry lake Plunge headlong, wallowing; but with eagle-flight God wrote the book, and still vouchsafes to write. Those mansions pure, and join their blest employ.' In the fifth and last book our poet enters upon the sublime, and shows in what it consists; that it is rather a gift of nature than of art, but that it may be acquired by the latter. He explains the passion of enthusiasm, which nature, and nature alone, can bestow; but prefers a correct judgement to every other qualification. Without approving every remark or maxim contained in this book, we have been much pleased with the whole. The entire poem is written with taste, elegance, and spirit; and we rejoice to find it republished in our own country. The dithyrambic of Redi, entitled Bacchus in Tuscany, is also preceded by a life of the author, which is copied from a previous biography of him, drawn up by his friend, the abbate Salvino Salvini, of Florence. Redi was, as we have already observed, a contemporary of Menzini: he was also a member of the Arcadian Association, of which we have given an account in our review of the Commentaries of Crescembini, by whom it was instituted; and, in this society, was acknowledged by the Arcadian name of Anicius Traustius. He was born in Arezzo, in 1626; was educated in the Jesuits school at Florence, and afterwards studied at the university of Pisa, where he graduated in philosophy and medicine. He was highly beloved and patronised by the grand duke, Ferdinand II., as well as his successor, Cosmo III., and died of declining age, while enjoying the auspices of the latter, in 1697. To the life of Redi, of which we have given this short sketch, succeeds a passage of considerable fength, upon the subject of dithyrambic poetry, extracted from the opening of Menzini's third book of the Art of Italian Poetry,' commencing |