with the Vandals of Africa, put the seal to his renown; but it may be well to consider how far the influence of his secretary, the celebrated Cassiodorus, aided to accomplish his destiny.

What a pity that such a fame should be indelibly stained by the deaths of Symmachus and Boethius, whose fate recurs to the mind when contemplating the tomb of him who caused it! Fearful is the responsability of sovereigns, not only to their contemporaries, but to posterity; which pronounces an unimpassioned verdict on actions, that during their lives found apologists, if not approvers. Theodoric is said to have wanted in his later days the consolation found by the persecuted Boethius, even in the solitude of a prison.*

I have seen few places in Italy where I would sooner pass some months than at Ravenna. The tranquil monotony of the town, the beauty of the forest and country around it, and the absence of the travelling English, give it a peculiar charm for me; who like quiet and repose, and enjoy studying the Italians in places remote from the parts frequented by the shoals of strangers who infest this beautiful country; bringing with them those luxurious habits and dissipations, from an association with which the natives shrink, and consequently deprive the more reflecting people who travel from an opportunity of knowing them.

The English, more than all other people, carry with them the habits and customs of their own country. It would appear that they travel not so much for the purpose of studying the manners of other lands, as for that of establishing and displaying their own. Hence a pack of hounds has been established in the Eternal City; and, instead of examining the wrecks of its ancient splendour, many of the English male frequenters gallop over the Campagna all the morning, and recount their prowess at the chace, during the evenings.

The English women, too, evince a no less warm attachment to the customs of their native land. Balls, soirées, and tableaux, à-la-mode de Londres, are continually given, where may be seen assembled many of the same faces to be met with at Almack's every spring; wearing the same smiles, and lisping about the fêtes of the previous and ensuing weeks, just as they are wont to do at home. In short, men and women endeavour as much as is in their power to forget, and make

* See the "Consolationes Philosophiæ" of that admirable writer.

others do so too, that they are dwellers in the "Niobe of nations;" and, though they leave London, take with them all its luxurious habits and dissipations. It is a positive fact that one English lady of fashion proposed to exclude from her circle any individual who should in conversation revert to the works of art or antiquities of Rome. Perhaps she thought with the epigrammatist, that

To go so far antiques to view must prove half of you asses,
For if you wish such sights to see just look into your glasses.

FERRARA. A gloom pervades this once fine, but now dreary town, that harmonises well with the feelings; for who can ever enter it without remembering with sadness the long years during which Tasso pined a prisoner within its walls? Ferrara, like all the other papal towns, has fallen into decay ever since it has been annexed to the Holy See. The streets are nearly deserted, except by melancholy priests, whose flowing garments and large hats remind one of Dom Bartolomeo, in the "Barbiere di Siviglia;" and by monks with shaven crowns and sandalled feet, who are seen passing and re-passing.

The inn is execrable, and breathes not of Araby the blest, but is impregnated with the mingled odours of cheese, garlic, and cigars.

We saw the tomb of Ariosto, no longer in its original place, the Benedictine Church, but in the Lyceum, where it now stands.

The library, which owes its foundation to the munificence of a rich citizen of Ferrara, contains a fine collection of books, amounting to not less than some seventy or eighty thousand volumes, and near a thousand MSS. The books are in excellent preservation, and seem to be regarded by the custode Iwith that sentiment of reverence due to their merit.

Portraits of the Cardinals of Ferrara are suspended in one of these spacious apartments, among which that of Ippolito d'Este was pointed out to us. I have rarely seen a countenance more indicative of the coarseness generally attributed to him by his contemporaries, than this picture offers; its expression is nearly that of unredeemed brutality, the animal propensities being much more developed in it than the intellectual ones.

One room in the library is devoted to the works of authors

of Ferrara, comprising ancient and modern writers-a patriotic distinction well calculated to encourage talent.

Among the manuscripts in the library, we remarked some cantos of the "Orlando Furioso," so marked with corrections as to prove the fastidious taste of, and pains taken by, Ariosto, to render his poem more perfect. His chair and inkstand were shown to us; the first, a plain piece of furniture, made of walnut-tree, and the second, a bronze circular vase neatly executed, on the lid of which is a Cupid holding a finger to his lips; a symbol supposed to indicate the silence that should be observed in amatory affairs. This inkstand is said to have been designed by the poet himself, and is so much admired that copies of it are in great demand at Ferrara. We looked with interest on this little utensil into which the poet so often dipped his pen when describing the paladins, knights, and dames, in his "Orlando Furioso."

The manuscript of the Scolastica, and of some of the satires of Ariosto, drew our attention; and many of the latter gave proof of assiduity and pains taken by the author in polishing and improving them, as they were marked with corrections in his own hand.

We also saw the "Pastor Fido" of Guarini, who was one of the poets whose works shed a lustre on the court of Ferrara. Guarini was not more fortunate in the patronage of the Duke Alphonso d'Este, than were his two gifted contemporaries, Ariosto and Tasso; for though he escaped the misery inflicted on the last, he was, like the first, condemned to pass the best years of his maturity in the performance of missions intrusted to him by a prince whose rewards were very inadequately proportioned to the services he exacted.

One of those missions was to Poland, and for no less an object than to seat the Duke Alphonso on its throne, just then vacated by Henri de Valois, who had succeeded his brother Charles IX. in France. This journey, performed with a wonderful rapidity, and in a country where the accommodation of inns was then little known, drew on the poet a malady that nearly terminated his days.

The letter to his wife, to whom he was fondly attached, still exists, and was written when he believed himself to be dying. In it he exhorts her to arm herself with courage, as the best means of rendering honour to his memory; and to guard their

children from those who had reduced him to the extremity in which he found himself, and prayed her to teach them to imitate their father in all except his fortune.

Does not this letter vouch for Guarini's sense of the ill treatment he had received at a court, in which its sovereign had the ostentatious vanity to wish to exhibit himself as the Mecenas of men of genius, without the generosity of really filling the character he assumed?

Guarini did not, however, die in Poland, but on his return from it continued, much against his inclination, to devote a great portion of his time to his illiberal master; in whose service, during fifteen years, he had expended a considerable part of the property inherited from his father. He retired to a country seat of his, tormented by law-suits and the embarrassments into which his affairs had fallen during his frequent and long missions from home,-disgusted with courts, and forswearing the Muses.

His infidelity to these fair dames, whom it is not more difficult to win than to desert, was not of long duration. Aroused into emulation by the praise bestowed on the "Aminta” of Tasso, recently given to the public, Guarini took up a work long laid by, and gave the finishing touches to his "Pastor Fido." The good taste and generosity which induced him to correct and bring out a copy of the "Gerusalemme" of Tasso, tells very much in his favour; for it is not common to find contemporary authors, and above all, poets, anxious to render justice, or draw attention to the merits of each other. In the case of Guarini, as well as in that of Tasso and Ariosto, the Duke Alphonso, while refusing to reward their genius himself, evinced a most unreasonable jealousy when they found more generous patrons elsewhere.

When one reads the life of Guarini, so full of troubles as it was, and with so few consolations, it is impossible not to feel surprise that he could cultivate the Muses with a grace and airiness that would indicate a mind free from care. This example inculcates a belief, that though the imagination requisite for a poet may heighten the sense of the evils he encounters, yet the power of occupying that brilliant faculty abstracts him, at least while engaged in composition, from the bitter realities of life.

From the "Pastor Fido" of Guarini, we turned to examine a small volume, containing not above fifty pages of rime, and

inscribed, "Alle Signore Principesse di Ferrara." The first line of the opening poem, "Due Donne Amor m'offerse illustri e rare," "Love offered, or presented to me, two rare and illustrious women," evidently refers to Eleonore d'Este and her sister the Princess Lucretia; though some imagine it to refer to Lucretia Bendidio, of whom Tasso was said to have been enamoured.

The will of Tasso and some of his letters were also shown us, not one of which indicates the insanity alleged to have been the cause of his confinement; though in one a reference is made to an infirmity, but whether mental or bodily is not stated. The commencement, and indeed the whole of this letter is very melancholy. It is addressed to the Cardinal Bon Compagno, and bears date the 12th of April, 1585. The reference to his malady is contained in the following lines :-" Dopo la prigionia, e l'infermità di molti anni, se le mie pene non hanno purgato gli errori, almeno la clemenza di V. S. Illmâ, può sacilmente perdonarli;" etc. In this letter, which is two pages in length, he craves the interposition of the Cardinal in his favour with the Duke of Ferrara to procure him his liberty. In another part of his letter the unhappy poet says,-"E benchè sia quasi disperato di risanare nondimeno i salutiferi medicamenti, e gli efficaci rimedii, e l'allegrezza di vedermi libero. petrebbono ritornarmi nel primo stato."

The other letters are for the most part short, and contain requests for clothes, linen to be washed, books, or to have his money taken care of; for it appears, that, in addition to his other troubles, his prison was not free from thieves. Who can refrain from pity at the notion of this great but unhappy poet being debarred, as it were, from the light of day; and condemned to write minute details of those wants, even for the purposes of cleanliness, that ought to have been amply supplied to him?

The MS. of the "Gerusalemme," corrected by Tasso during his imprisonment, and inscribed at the end" Laus Deo," appealed as forcibly to my sympathy as it had formerly done to that of Alfieri, who wrote on the MS. "Vittorio Alfieri; vide e venerô, 18 Giugno 1783," and is reported to have shed a tear on the paper, the impression of which was pointed out to me by the custode.

Who could peruse the following lines, addressed to the Duke Alphonso by Tasso, from his prison, without feeling the deepest pity for the unhappy writer?