marks, she might really pass for a beauty. It is impossible, in fact, not to find some charm in the presence and in the looks and voice of a young girl full of vivacity and affection. I had taken not the least pains to acquire her good-will; yet was I as dear to her as either a father or a brother, whichever title I preferred. And why? Only because she had read "Francesca da Rimini" and "Eufemio," and my poems, she said, had made her weep so often; then, besides, I was a solitary prisoner, without having, as she observed, either robbed or murdered anybody. In short, when I had become attached to poor Maddalene, without once seeing her, how was it likely that I could remain indifferent to the sisterly assiduity and attentions, to the thousand pleasing little compliments, and to the most delicious cups of coffee of this young Venetian girl, my gentle little jailer? I should be trying to impose on myself, were I to attribute to my own prudence the fact of my not having fallen in love with Angiola. I did not do so, simply from the circumstance of her having already a lover of her own choosing, to whom she was desperately, unalterably attached. Heaven help me! if it had not been thus I should have found myself in a very critical position, indeed, for an author, with so little to keep alive his attention. The sentiment I felt for her was not, then, what is called love. I wished to see her happy, and that she might be united to the lover of her choice; I was not jealous, nor had I the remotest idea she could ever select me as the object of her regard. Still, when I heard my prison-door open, my heart began to beat in the hope it was my Angiola; and if she appeared not, I experienced a pecu liar kind of vexation; when she really came my heart throbbe yet more violently, from a feeling of pure joy. Her parents, who had begun to entertain a good opinion of me, and were aware of her passionate regard for another, offered no opposition to the visits she thus made me, permitting her almost invariably to bring me my coffee in a morning, and not unfrequently in the evening. There was altogether a simplicity and an affectionateness in her every word, look, and gesture, which were really captivating. She would say, "I am excessively attached to another, and yet I take such delight in being near you! When I am not in his company, I like being nowhere so well as here." (Here was another compliment.) "And don't you know why?" inquired I. "I do not." "I will tell you, then. It is because I permit you to talk about your lover." "That is a good guess; yet still I think it is a good deal because I esteem you so very much!" Poor girl! along with this pretty frankness she had that blessed sin of taking me always by the hand, and pressing it with all her heart, not perceiving that she at once pleased and disconcerted me by her affectionate manner. Thanks be to Heaven, that I can always recall this excellent little girl to mind without the least tinge of remorse. ALESSANDRO MANZONI. THE Romantic School in Italian literature was founded by Alessandro Manzoni (1785-1873). His great masterpiece, "I Promessi Sposi" (The Betrothed Lovers), was inspired by the romances of Sir Walter Scott, but the magnanimous Scott placed it before even his own novels and styled it an ideal romance. Manzoni was descended from the fierce feudal lords of Valsassina, and was thus an appropriate comrade with the mighty magician of "Waverly." But his mother belonged to the Beccaria family, which has some note in literature. "I Promessi Sposi" is not merely an historical novel or picture of the past. The author explores the innermost recesses of the human heart, and draws thence the most subtle motives for the movements of his characters. ecclesiastical bias, due to his early training by the Barnabites, and the French coloring, due to his frequenting of Madame The Condorcet's salon, are also visible in the atmosphere of Manzoni's love-story. The scene is laid in Milan and the neighborhood of Como and the Italian lakes early in the seventeenth century. Renzo and his affianced Lucia are two simple, noble-spirited peasants, but around them Manzoni has woven a plot which involves the vices and virtues, customs and manners of that age. Renzo is cruelly victimized by Don Rodrigo, whom he eventually forgives. Lucia is assaulted by the stony-hearted Innominato in his castle. There is a friar, Fra Cristoforo, who has devoted himself to a life of holiness in penitence for one impulsive crime of his youth, and who does his utmost to rescue the sweet lovers from the devil's snares around them. Federigo Borromeo, Archbishop of Milan, is also a character of saintly beauty. A weak priest is introduced in Abbondio. Don Rodrigo falls a victim to the plague which ravaged Milan and its vicinity in 1630. Manzoni gives a powerful description of this plague, which emulates the work of the great historian Thucydides, the poet Lucretius, and the novelists Boccaccio and Defoe. From use of the original memoirs, he was enabled to paint the terrible picture in the most vivid, breathing colors. Later on he wrote as a sequel to his romance the story of the "Colonna Infame" (The Column of Infamy), a monument erected on the site of the dwelling of a Milanese suspected of having spread this plague by means of poison. The people of Milan had been unable to comprehend the true significance of the plague, and a rumor was circulated by certain miscreants to the effect that it was due to secret poison rubbed on the walls of the houses. The angry mob pulled down the house of the unfortunate man accused of being the arch-conspirator in the crime. Manzoni proved, in his historical study, how utterly idle the scandal was, and traced its origin and development. Critics have complained somewhat of the excessive ideality of Manzoni's romance, but in such of its characters as Agnese he has displayed a pleasant and humorous realism. His great work he revised most laboriously in accordance with the Tuscan idiom. Manzoni also enriched Italian literature, if not the Italian stage, with two tragedies-"Il Conte di Carmagnole" and THE PRESBYTERIAN HOSPIT NEW YOR "Adelchi." The latter treats of the expedition of Charlemagne against the last of the Longobardian chiefs (772-774). Under the veil of the Lombard domination in Italy Manzoni gave his view of the existing Austrian domination. He also warned Italy to hope for no foreign rescuer. In "The Count of Carmagnola" he depicted a picturesque Venetian Condottiero of the fourteenth century. Manzoni's literary motto was "True history, true morals." In these he believed lies the widest and the eternal source of the beautiful. His realism was of this type, idealized by noble sentiment. Manzoni in early life had been a follower of Voltaire, but was brought back to Catholicism by his wife, the beautiful daughter of a Genevese banker. This new religious experience enriched Catholic poetry, for Manzoni was inspired to compose a series of "Inni" (Hymns) for the various Christian festivals. He thus celebrated "The Resurrection," "The Name of Mary," "The Nativity," "The Passion," and "Pentecost." But even in these sacred poems, the poet did not fail to manifest his aspirations for social progress. For instance, in "The Nativity" he sings a sublime vision of a Christian democracy, and in "The Resurrection" he chants the triumph of innocence over oppression. He thus became, in his lyrics, a champion of the purest and most sublime morality. His most famous ode is that called Cinque Maggio" (The Fifth of May) on the death of Napoleon. " Manzoni stands in marked contrast with his great contemporary, the pessimist Leopardi. Manzoni was always serene and had faith in the divine government of the world. After the publication of his great novel, in 1822, and its sequel, he wrote but little. His wife died in 1833, and though he married again, he outlived his second wife and most of his children, dying at Milan at the age of eighty-eight. His funeral was attended with all the manifestations of natural grief, and Verdi wrote a noble Requiem in his honor. Manzoni's private character was in perfect accord with the best utterances of his genius. Though his poetry is celebrated for its lofty fervor, it is as a prose-writer, and especially as the author of "I Promessi Sposi," that he has attained his unique place in the literature of Italy and the world. THE DEATH OF NAPOLEON. (From "The Fifth of May." Napoleon died May 5, 1821.) I saw him blazing on his throne, Saw him at last forever fall, Still mute amid the shouts of all: Free from base flattery, when he rose; From baser outrage, when he fell: From Alps to Pyramids were thrown Burst on their aim,-and shook the world. Was this true glory? The high doom |