tion a sort of intellectual repository, where the mind may wander with no less delight than profit-where there is every thing, we had almost said, to charm the sense, as well as to strengthen and elevate the understanding. And the payment of six-pence is the extraordinary condition on which we are allowed to repair, thus occasionally, to a fountain of knowledge, at once the most agreeable and salutary that could be provided for our gratification! Of the other two treatises we need only observe, that being necessarily more technical, they are written in an easy lucid manner, quite congenial with the characteristic simplicity of the model which we have just described.

The illustrative plates are numerous, and executed with more neatness and accuracy than it would have been hardly fair to expect for the price.

Most sincerely do we hope, that no untoward event will occur to deprive the future career of this Institution of the practical agency, if possible, or at least the guiding and controlling vigilance of such a man as Mr. Brougham. It is not, we trust, merely to make a good beginning for the Society,-to give it a letter of recommendation to the world-just to pilot it off, that the learned gentleman has condescended to take up his pen. We no longer fear now, that disgust at mean and bigoted opposition, or despair of success will, as in the case of his Education Bill, arrest the progress of Mr. Brougham, or even render it irksome to him. We know with what unabated hatred the apostles of ignorance, and the champions of the moral oppression of mankind, still track him out whenever he is upon some of his enlightened and benevolent expeditions. But there are now, we rejoice to say, fortunate conjunctions happening in the political horizon, which forbid us to dread that the struggle between bigotry and improvement in this country, will be any longer attended with such fruits as disgrace the pages of our recent history.

Of the publications which, under the name of the Library of the People,' form the third constituent of the title to this article, we desire to speak with the utmost forbearance. We grieve to think, that between those who are friendly to the promotion of useful knowledge amongst the people, there should exist any symptoms of schism, particularly those particular ones which are referable solely to selfish and contracted views. However, the injury that will infallibly result from this attempted rivalry on the part of the publishers of the latter works, will not fall on the cause itself, but will, in all probability, belong wholly to the speculators. A glance indeed at the contents of any one of the treatises, included in the class to which we are alluding, will satisfy any body of the hopelessness of this effort at competition. We confess an extreme anxiety that public encouragement should be undividedly fixed on the Society and its labours-for it is of the greatest consequence to the end which all parties profess to have in view, that the cur

rent of useful and economical supply should be steady and permanent, not likely to be stopped or troubled by the calamities to which individual speculations are liable.

FOREIGN LITERATURE.

ART. XI. La divina Comedia de Dante Alighieri, illustrata da Ugo Foscolo. Vol. I. Londra: Pickering.. 1827.

The Divine Comedy of Dante, illustrated by Ugo Foscolo.

IT is the usual lot of works of criticism, first, to find their way into the closets of the grave and studious, and afterwards to sink gradually into the dust of libraries, there to waste in obscurity and oblivion. Their unhappy destiny in this respect, has been usually imputed to the caprice and frivolity of the fashionable and the busy world, that seems disinclined towards this species of reading: but a little reflection will convince us, that there is neither justice nor propriety in such a charge. In all literary undertakings, the taste of the great mass of readers must be consulted; and when her grave pedants, with "loads of learned lumber in their heads," and with hearts totally inaccessible to tenderness and delicacy of feeling, assume the office of censors, and issue their heavy mandates on works of genius and sensibility, it is no matter of surprise that readers of taste and judgment turn away with disgust from their dull and tasteless lucubrations. The intelligent and growing class of readers require not only the language of intellect, but also the more glowing eloquence of the passions; and this they claim as a matter of right, when it is an acknowledged point, that even the minister of Truth himself must occasionally sacrifice to the graces. The art of criticism, when applied to works of genius, belongs essentially to the artist, who feeling within himself the Promethean spark, must therefore be best enabled not only to understand, but also to feel the merit and beauty of the masterpieces of art. Why are now the names of the most renowned critics of France to be found only in the catalogues of booksellers, while Voltaire's Commentary on the Dramas of Corneille is in the hands of every reader? The answer is obvious-Voltaire was an artist himself, and was entitled, as a man of genius, to pass his judgment on the productions of genius. Dr. Johnson is frequently unjust towards the merits of Shakspeare, in the criticisms which he passes on that great poet; but this was naturally to be expected, for Johnson was a philosopher, and nothing more, and his mistakes are to be ascribed rather to want of feeling than to deficiency of judgment. But Shakspeare, above all other poets, requires a poet for his commentator.

Among the great men who have astonished the world by the powerful efforts of their genius, Dante is, perhaps, the only writer

that has been overwhelmed with a multitude of commentators and critics. To explain this literary phenomenon, we are assured that the numberless allegories interspersed in his Poem, and which were obviously intelligible to his contemporaries, must have proved difficult to be decyphered by posterity; and that therefore the labours of commentators have become indispensable, in order to enable every class of readers to relish the beauties of this immortal work. But if we acknowledge this to be a plausible reason, we are still afraid that it is not bottomed on solid grounds. Dante stands at the head of modern literature; that literature arose with him, and in a great measure from him. He takes a position in the midst of a solemn sphere of fiction, in order to be master of his ground, and paints the manners and vices of his age; he describes the religious and political factions that tore Italy asunder, and the base efforts of slaves and tyrants to perpetuate disorder and crime. He then passes on to the efforts of those noble and elevated souls, that strove to burst the chains of servitude, while the ambition and cupidity of strangers usurped the dominion of the soil, and "let slip the dogs of war." But it is to be observed of his delineations in general, that they bear no likeness to the productions of the other great painters of nature. Homer describes the war of Troy: the heroes whom he paints are faithful copies from nature, but they are confined to time and place; quit the plains of Troy, and they will vanish like mighty phantoms of the air; there is nothing in them analogous to other men, to other nations, or to another age. Dante, on the contrary, being impelled by impetuous passions, and by a peculiar talent of generalizing his glowing conceptions, gives us frequently in the temporary delineation of a few individuals, the permanent portraiture of the whole human race. It is only requisite to have a soul capable of profound impressions, to behold the modern monster in the ancient one. It is not allusion or illusion, but recollection and reality. When, in the perusal of this wonderful poem, we survey the characters of the 13th century, we may turn to our contemporaries, and apply to them, with little variation, the wellknown line of Horace:

"Mutato nomine, de te, fabula narratur."

Hence arises the great popularity of this poem in Italy, where unhappy circumstances tend to produce allusions in the minds of the readers, that console them in the midst of oppression. Hence also arises the smothered and inveterate batred of a certain class of men, who are indignant at seeing Dante's Poems in the hands of youth. They tolerate his works, because they have not courage enough to brave general opinion, and they praise them occasionally in order to avoid the imputation of gross ignorance; but while they tolerate and praise, the expression of rage is visible on their lips. The most audacious of these slanderers, not being able to undermine his fame, endeavour to injure it indirectly,

under a thousand plausible pretexts. A contrary impression, however, is felt by more rational parties, and the enlightened critics of all countries are happy when they are enabled to clear up his most difficult passages, not only with a view to make him intelligible to the public, but also to habituate themselves to the flights of so powerful a genius, and draw on themselves a few scattered rays of his imperishable glory. We say, the critics of all countries, because it is not the Italians only, who have devoted themselves to the elucidation of Dante: learned French and German critics have multiplied their labours on him; and within a recent period, an English philosopher has engaged in a work of considerable magnitude on this subject, which, if it does not always succeed in the illustration of the matters introduced, displays, at least, the profound learning, the indefatigable application, and the just and exquisite taste of the author *.

It must be acknowledged, however, that a commentary on Dante requires a rare combination of talents, which are seldom found in one and the same person. There must be, as we have observed before, an artist to appreciate the poet; there must be a soul of sensibility, a flexible and rapid imagination, to follow him with success in those prodigious flights, which seem to lift us from the earth, and to enable us to soar with him into boundless space. But Dante is not to be considered as a poet only: he was a historian also, and aspired to become the reformer and legislator of his own age. Consequently, immense erudition is requisite, as well as a knowledge of the laws, manners, opinions, events, and transactions, and the religious and political systems of his time. The critic must, above all, identify himself with that excessive idolatry for the interests of virtue and humanity, and that passionate love of country, which were the fundamental and constituent principles of all the affections and actions of this renowned Gibeline. But it is a melancholy consideration to find, that the force of these essentials has not been duly felt; the proof is, that men of mediocrity have not recoiled from undertaking a commentary on Dante. The herd of writers boldly engaged in the task, as if they had to explain the Fables of Phædrus, or La Fontaine; and the number of books that has issued from the press on this subject, during the last three centuries, has increased to such a pitch, that if the British Museum were empty, it would not not contain room for the entire collection.

Ugo Foscolo has, however, attempted of his own accord, to carry the torch of criticism into the sanctuary of the Divina Comedia. We must, therefore, feel at once assured that the poet will meet with a competent judge. The brilliant talents of Foscolo in the walks of imagination are already celebrated, and he has given fresh proofs of his abilities in the present work, the first volume of

A Comment on the Divine Comedy, vol. i. London: J. Murray.

which is now before the public. We do not feel in its perusal that overwhelming languor, which stupifies a reader in this department of literature. His style is animated, rapid, energetic, and full of warmth and vivacity. He sometimes falls into digressions, to which a just degree of censure might be attached, did he not possess the art of conveying a peculiar charm and interest to his narrative. When he assails the erroneous opinions that were entertained with regard to the true meaning of the text, he sometimes indulges in a tone of delicate and piercing irony, abounding with pleasantry and wit. Ingenious sallies frequently occur without too prolix a chain of reasoning; and while a smile often irresistibly surprises us at some unexpected stroke of raillery, we easily discover that it is not vented from a spirit of malignity. All this comes quite natural from an artist, habituated from early youth to converse with the graces and the muses; yet the work itself, in our opinion, possesses superior claims to public attention on other grounds.

The most learned and judicious critics, having hitherto considered Dante only in the light of a poet, have been led into strange misconceptions. They never beheld him under the grander point of view, as the reformer and legislator of Italy, perhaps, for this reason, that imperious circumstances paralysed his generous efforts, and marred his success. From this circumstance arise the various contradictions, in the attempts at elucidating his powerful inspirations, in which the soul of Dante vented its effusions like an impetuous torrent in its irresistible course. Foscolo is fully sensible that this is the point which has led the critics of Dante astray; and his attempts in clearing up the doubtful aspects under which the poet has been viewed, fully demonstrate that, previous to his taking up his pen on the subject, he has submitted to the most laborious and patient investigation of all the branches of history, relating to the scientific, political, moral and religious state of affairs, at the age in which Dante lived. He has thus been able to discover and point out many errors respecting dates and places. Whether he has finally accomplished his purpose, it belongs to the public to decide. At all events, he has made for himself a new road, the merit of which is all his own, though it is not improbable that further efforts are necessary to complete his progress.

Dante had conceived the idea of his poem in his early youth, and had struck out the plan at a heat. The descriptions, episodes, and details, which were afterwards to be filled up, could not, however, regularly find a place, but in proportion as the events unfolded themselves, and followed in order; as they altered, or contributed to diminish his fears, or to elevate his hopes. It was therefore inevitably incumbent on him to change, modify, and retouch, every day, the images which he had embodied on the preceding evening. The political and religious regeneration of Italy was the grand object to which all his exertions were devoted; and the principles and