A.

1st February 1842.My very dear Sir,... Have you ever readLe Livre Mystiqueof De Balzac, a living French author—a book published in 1836? Read it, for it is truly curious. It is divided into three parts, and expounds mysticism in mystic language, somewhat less obscure than in the ancient works of like kind. In the first part he introduces a certain Louis Lambert as expounder of mysticism; in the second he introduces Dante at the school of Sigier in Paris, “al Vico degli Strami, Sillogizzando invidiosi veri”:[90]in the third he introduces a nephew of Swedenborg,female and male, a fantastic and changeful being, Seraphita-Seraphitus; and she-and-he expresses herself in terms fit to set the soundest head in a whirl,—and says among other things: “L’union qui se fait d’unesprit d’amouret d’unesprit de sagessemet la créature à l’étatdivin, pendant que son âme estfemmeet que son corps esthomme; dernière expression humaine où l’esprit l’emporte sur la forme, et la forme se débat encore contre l’esprit divin.... Ainsile naturel(état dans lequel sont les êtres non régénérés),le spirituel(état dans lequel sont les esprits angéliques), etledivin(état dans lequel demeure l’ange avant de briser son enveloppe), sontles trois degrésde l’exister par lesquels l’homme parvient au ciel.” (Vol. II. p. 102.) And so on to a large extent. What seems to me most noticeable is to see Dante and Swedenborg put on the same footing. And Reghellini says plainly that Dante was a Freemason (videVol. III. pp. 48, 49). And Ragon affirms the same (pp. 290-332)....Your most attachedG. Rossetti.No. 3.—From Three Letters from Seymour [Barone] Kirkup to Gabriele Rossetti[Mr Seymour Kirkup, an English painter and man of letters established in Florence, became an enthusiastic adherent to Rossetti’s scheme of Dantesque interpretation, from reading his Comment on theInfernoand hisSpirito Antipapale. In his later years he was made a Barone of the Italian Kingdom, and he died at a great age towards 1880. The following extracts relate chiefly to the deeply interesting discovery, in which he bore a very principal part, of the portrait of Dante by Giotto in the Chapel of the Podestà, in the Bargello of Florence.]A.Florence,12th September 1840.My very excellent Friend,Yours of the 22nd July came safe with the Sonnet, “O della mente eterna immago e prole.” It is verybeautiful. It is capital. Let me thank you very sincerely, and let me congratulate you on Germany being about to enjoy the benefit of your invaluable discoveries. Every new country is a triumph of your cause; and, whilst all Europe will be benefiting by your genius and learning, Italy alone remains without an Italian edition of the original Italian work on the great luminary of Italy and of the world. In Florence there are too many obstacles: the priests, and the antiquated routine imbecility of the Crusca. The word-mongers are all envious. They are true bran, and well sifted from the fior di pensieri. They are old, and find your success a reproach, and in this country all hue and cry raised against innovation is supported by force. The tone of the court and the police is carried into the Academies. Well may you say “L’Italia invidia omai fin la Turchia.”I have delayed writing in the hopes of sending you a sketch which will interest you, but I have hitherto been disappointed. We have made a discovery of an original portrait of Dante in fresco by Giotto! Although I was a magna pars in this undertaking, the Jacks in Office have not allowed me yet to make a copy. Sono tanto gelosi, most likely afraid I should publish it and prevent some friends of their own reaping all the profit they hope from that speculation.I was the person who first mentioned to Sig. Bezzi, a Piedmontese and friend of Carlo Eastlake’s, the existence of the portrait under the whitewash of three centuries. We were joined by an American, and we three undertook at our expense to employ a restorer to uncover the walls of the old chapel in the palace of the Podestà in search of the portrait—mentioned by F. Villani, Filelfo, L. Aretino, Vasari, Cinelli, etc. Nothing but the constancy and talent of Sig. Bezzi could have overcome the numberless obstacles and refusalswe met with. He wrote and spoke with the persuasions of an advocate, and persevered with the obstinacy and activity of an Englishman (which I believe he now is). He alone was the cause of success. We should have had no chance without him. At last, after uncovering enough of three walls to ascertain it was not there, the Government took the task into their own hands, on our terms, with the same restorer, and in the fifth wall they have succeeded. The number of walls is six, for the chapel has been divided in two—(magazines of wine, oil, bread, etc., for the prisoners).The precise date of the painting is not known. The poet looks about 28—very handsome—un Apollo colle fattezze di Dante. The expression and character are worthy of the subject, and much beyond what I expected from Giotto. Raphael might own it with honour. Add to which it is not the mask of a corpse of 56—a ruin—but a fine, noble image of the Hero of Campaldino, the Lover of Beatrice. The costume very interesting—no beard or even a lock of hair.A white cap, over which a white capuccio, lined with dark red showing the edge turned back. A parchment book under his arm—perhaps the Vita Nuova.It is in a group of many others—one seems Charles II. of Naples. Brunetto Latini and Corso Donati are mentioned by the old authors.I send herewith a pamphlet by Prof. Nannucci—very curious and very interesting respecting Dante—and a dose for the Crusca.I wrote to you by Mr Craufurd, who took charge of the medal, and sent two pamphlets by him, one for Mr Taylor—and two letters of thanks, one to him and one to Mr Lyell; but I fear by what you say in your last letter you have never received them. Mr C[raufurd] is a friend of Eastlake’s, whocan perhaps get them for you. I liked Mr Taylor’s book[91]very much indeed, and am very grateful to you and him.Yours most sincerely,Seymour Kirkup.B.Florence,14th September 1841.My dear Friend,By the time you receive this, I hope that the portrait of Dante, for you, will be in London.The gentleman who has taken charge of it was in such haste to leave the country (from the consequences of a fatal duel) that I had not an opportunity for writing.You will receive, in fact, three portraits. They are as follows:—No. 1. A drawing in chalk, on light-brown paper, of the face as large as the original. I had intended to write a memorandum on it, but in my hurry it was forgotten. Perhaps you would have the kindness to add it, if you think it worth while—viz.“Drawn by S. K., and traced with talc, on the original fresco by Giotto; discovered in the Chapel of the Palazzo del Podestà, Florence, on the 21st July 1840, before it was retouched.”No. 2. A small sketch in water-colours, giving the colours of the dress, and the heads supposed to be of Corso Donati and Brunetto Latini.No. 3. A Lithography by the painter and restorer Marini,who uncovered the painting. This is made on a tracing by himself.I thought it useful to send you these in order to give you a better idea of this very interesting discovery—Dante, under 30 years of age. With respect to No. 1, it is fixed with glue-water, and will not rub out with common usage. The only thing it is liable to is the cracking or bending of the paper, which sometimes in a face alters the expression.Since I drew it, I have had the mortification to see the original retouched, and its beauty destroyed. You will perceive that the eye is wanting. A deep hole in the wall was found exactly on that spot, as if done on purpose. It was necessary to fill it that it might not extend further: not content, they ordered Sig. Marini to paint the eye on it, and he has daubed over the face in many parts, to the ruin of its expression and character. It is now 15 years older, a mean, pinched expression, and an effeminate character, compared to what it was. It is not quite so bad as the lithography I send you, but not far from it. When I saw what was done, I asked a young man, his assistant, if it was done with colours in tempera, and he assured me, with a boast, that it was in bon fresco. If so, Dante is gone for good. But I have still hopes that he spoke only of the eye, and many of my friends think it can only be accomplished on the old and hard painting by some distemper-colour of glue, size, or egg; and, if so, a damp cloth fixed on it for half-an-hour will bring it all away without injuring the original fresco. I mean to take my time, and perhaps some day I may restore Dante to himself a second time. I had the principal part in the late discovery.The lithography I send you is exceedingly unlike and incorrect, although a tracing. In shading and finishing hehas totally lost and changed the outline, if he ever had it. It is vulgar, old, and effeminate—the contrary in every respect to the original. The Florentines of to-day cannot draw, nor even trace. Think of what such a hand would do, if allowed to paint over it! and that has been the case. It is a misfortune when the direction of the fine arts is in the hands of an ignorant man, chosen only for hisNobility! Our Direttore with his cleaners has been the ruin of paintings in the Galleries, since I have been here, to the value of £60,000 or £80,000 sterling—and the money is the least part of the loss. When I mentioned to you that my drawing was a secret, I only meant that, if known here that I obtained access to make a tracing by bribery, it would compromise those who had assisted me. You are welcome to show it to whom you please, anddo whatever you wish with it. But I recommend you not to give it away, for it is theonlycopy that has been made to my knowledge before the fresco was retouched, except the miserable lithography which I send; and, if so bad a copy was produced by the help of tracing, and from the original in its pure state, nothing very good is to be expected in future. The eye in the said lithography was, of course, added by the copier. You will perceive by my drawing that the outline (the eyelash) remained, which was fortunate, as it gives the exact situation of the feature.We are in daily expectation of the arrival of The Book of Mystery.[92]I am doubly anxious, from the distinguished honour you have conferred on me. The Marquis and the Professor are full of gratitude to you, but the Frenchman (entre nous) seemed to confer a favour rather than receive one. And so great a one!Gente francesca!The scientific meeting of Florence commences to-morrow, and ends on the 8th Oct. It opens with a grand Mass of Spontini, in the Church of S. Croce. Galileo’s shrine will be the favourite of the four great Tuscans—besides whom, there is a host of secondary stars: F. Barberini, C. Marsuppini, Leonardo Aretino, Lami, Mascagni, Alfieri, Rinuccini, Alberti, etc., etc., etc.Do you know the Improvisatore Regaldi? and hisCarme a Firenze—written about three years ago. There are some lines on the subject of S. Croce.God bless you, my dear friend, and allow me once more to thank you for all your kindness, and to subscribe myselfMost sincerely yours,Seymour Kirkup.Best remembrances to Sig. Carlo (Eastlake, his name in Rome).The name of the bearer of the portrait is Plowden. He is a banker of Florence, and may be heard of at Messrs Harris & Farquhar, Bankers, of London. He will send it you, I hope, or leave it himself.C.Florence,5th February 1843.My dear Friend,Let me add my thanks to the rest of the world for the mental enjoyment afforded by yourBeatrice. My share is the greater for the handsome and honourable mention you make of me. I am proud of your approbation and good opinion, and am doubly grateful for the rank inyour esteem which you have so generously bestowed on me. The book has met with unusual success here. It has converted many. Whether the name has attracted the public, or the compactness has excited the idle, or the cheapness the economic, or all together, I know not, but it has been much read and admired. Italians and Tramontani are all full of it. I think in general they are grateful for the light; although it destroys a romantic illusion, which has been much cherished, especially on this spot, but which they cannot now entertain, except at the expense of adhering to an absurdity, or rather many absurdities. Some, however, are too far committed, and have too much vanity to acknowledge themselves wrong—the vulgar and the selfish in particular.For my own part, I have found the Ragionamento in part a renewal and condensation of what I had already learned from your former works, divided and spread through them. In this first Ragionamento you have not given the demonstration (I suppose it will follow in a succeeding one) of Boccaccio’s fault respecting May-Day, which is so complete and curious in theMisteri Platonici....The most important of your decisions is confirmed and strengthened in this volume: I mean your identification of Beatrice and Filosofia. Your three reasons at the top of p. 20 are new and unanswerable. How completely Dante blindfolds the superficial reader (which I was, till you taught me to fathom him) by making one believe that the lady at the window wasmundane philosophy, and that Beatrice, orDivine Science, reproaches Dante in Purgatory for having yielded to her attractions for a short time....I am so engrossed by your work that I am carried away and not answering your very kind and most friendly letter. A thousand thanks for it. I know how your time is filled,and have always wondered how you can get through all. I fear even writing you, but you desired me to send you all I think ofBeatrice. My letter would be long indeed if I touched on all its beauties: I should copy the book. There are many additional discoveries in the weaving of this mystic web which the book is rich in. You still surprise those whom you have already convinced. You are certainly an extraordinary Unraveller—a Disentangler—and I will say that, notwithstanding the dry task of unpicking knots, tight-drawn on purpose to resist skill and force, you have performed it with a skill and elegance that render it exciting and delightful to follow.You desire all my “opposizioni.” Lord help me! Can I find an error or two of the press?...I am longing for the next Ragionamento; I don’t know if others want much more to convince them, but in general the first part seems to have had that effect.Mr Lyell judges me, as you do, too partially. All I have learned I owe to you; and I confess to you that I have often found it difficult, even with your powerful help, to remove the substantial screen which Dante has built uppurposelyto conceal and protect his secret. But, when I think of you, who have, alone and single-handed, knocked over so many formidable barriers, and shown us the gardens and roses, the groves, the apples, the laurels, the olives, the flowers, the stags, and all the magic machinery of secret romance, I am lost in thinking how you found your way in such a labyrinth, and what immense and curious courses of reading you must have gone through, turning all you obtained to the accomplishing your will and determination to penetrate an untrod region, without a track or vestige to guide you. I wish I had the ability to write a descriptionof yourMisteri. Perhaps I could be of use in lending a hand merely, as I have studied them much; butmytools are paint-brushes, and I am not practised in the art of writing. My education has been too defective for me ever to have ventured in print. A weak defender is more dangerous than a strong opponent, and all I could hope would be perhaps to hit on some thought that might have escaped others; but without some help from the third heaven (which a good friend of mine knows of) I should not be able to clothe it so as to render it decent.I observe what you say on the subject of necessary reserve on certain subjects. You are quite right. You cannot be too careful in your situation and with your family. From your letter I see that your opinions are nearer mine than I supposed. But, as I am living out of the world and am perfectly free from it, I can safely be as explicit as I please. I have no reserve, and, if everthecause require a word beyond the customary and necessary limits, call upon me to say it, or say anything for me against priestcraft and kingcraft. That is my religion.I don’t wonder at Mr Lyell’s exultation at yourBeatrice. There are some master-touches amongst the new proofs, both in matter and manner, both close reasoning and light....The three pomegranates in Giotto’s fresco are so uncertain in their appearance, from injury and time, that I was doubtful about them, but a word from you decides the question in my mind. They are chipped and much obliterated; and, from their seeming a sort of double outline, and no shade or colour but the yellow drapery on which they are painted, I took them for an embroidery on the breast of the Barone. Some remains of fingers and stalk, however, had led theFlorentines to consider them as melograni, and they were puzzling their brains to find a meaning....Your whole-length portrait of yourself is full of nature and character, and therefore it must be very like: I thank you for it. And here is mine:—a little thin old man, 54, formerly dark, now very grey. Fond of fun, but not often tempted to indulge in it, and seldom depressed. Living alone in an old tower with two dogs only—a servant coming daily for a few hours. Disliking much to go into company, and especially to dress in cold weather, being slovenly even in my younger days. I live very temperately and never take wine. I am very active, more from lightness than strength, for I feel the effects of years and illness. Just now I boast, for I have had extraordinary health this autumn and winter. I paint a little, and read a good deal. I ought to do more in both, with opportunities and perfect liberty, but I am slow and stupid. My memory, too, is weaker than it was.Lord Vernon has twice desired me to present his best compliments and remembrances to you. He hopes you have received his book (through Molini). There is an outline in it from my tracing of Dante’s head, and, though it is not very correct, it is the best yet done....When will your new edition ofIddio e l’Uomocome out? I admired it much in its former state. Forgive the length of this letter, and remember me to Eastlake and Keightley.Believe me, with sincere affection,Your faithful friend,Seymour Kirkup.No. 4.—Letters (or Extracts from Letters) from Giuseppe Mazzini—Eleven to Rossetti, and one to another CorrespondentThe following are the only letters from Mazzini that remain among my father’s papers—except some other three or four, too trifling to be printed. The originals are naturally in Italian; the translation is mine. Letters A. and B. relate to a certain Galassi and Vantini, whom I do not remember, but the letters explain themselves well enough. Mention is also made of a “little book” by my father, which wasRome towards the Middle of the Nineteenth Century. Letters C, D, and E, refer to a school which was got up in London, by some leading resident Italians interested in the lot of their fellow-countrymen, for the instruction of the poorer and hitherto much neglected members of the colony—organ-grinders, plaster-cast vendors, models, waiters, journeymen, etc. The ice-cream purveyor did not exist at that remote date. This school, held in the Hatton Garden quarter, went on for some few years, dignified by the countenance of Mazzini, and greatly indebted to the practical work of (among others) Filippo Pistrucci, who was a painter, teacher, writer, and improvisatore, brother of the celebrated medallist. Rossetti of course concurred, but without taking any very active part. Letters F, G, and H, refer mainly to a MS. which my father wished to send to Paris—being, I take it, the selection of his poems, many of them youthful, which were published at Lausanne, under the titleVersi. There is also some mention of the Conte Giuseppe Ricciardi, named on p. 91 of the present book. He belonged to the Mazzinian sect, but sometimes kicked against the traces, and one can see in the correspondence that the great chief found him onoccasion a little exacting and tenacious. Letter I has reference to afêtewhich Signor Giovanni Antonio Delavo, who had erected a villa on the site of the Battle of Marengo, got up on the anniversary of the conflict. He had induced my father to write a poem for that commemoration; and Mazzini, it seems, was invited to obtain the insertion, in some English newspaper, of the poem, or of some other writing connected with the occurrence. In this letter, and in the following one (J), the observations about political events deserve notice. The final letter (K) seems to belong to a late date in 1848, and to imply that various Italians, including Mazzini himself, had addressed the Swiss Diet in consequence of some complications arising out of the Italian military reverses, in conflict with the Austrians, towards the close of that memorable year of unmeasured hopes and cruel disappointments.A few notes of my own on minor points are appended to the correspondence.Besides the eleven letters to my father, I give one letter, of far larger purport, which is quite unconnected with my family. It was lately purchased by a daughter of mine, simply as an autograph. On the purport of this document I need not enlarge, as it speaks for itself. It stands numbered at the close “15” in Mazzini’s handwriting, and would seem therefore to be one missive in a sustained correspondence. The recipient (or some one) has written upon it in Italian, “Letter from Giuseppe Mazzini”; moreover, the peculiar handwriting is quite unmistakable. It bears no date, and, for reasons readily surmisable, no postmark. In the course of the letter the addressee is spoken of as “My Corso”: I presume, therefore, that his surname may have been Corso, but thismightalso be a Christian name, or might merelymean “Corsican.” A name is written by Mazzini on the back of the letter; it has been partly inked over, and looks to me more like “Mr Clare” than anything else.The letter shows that the addressee had some relations with Vincenzo Gioberti, the celebrated Churchman and Minister of State, whose leading work,Il Primato d’Italia, was published in 1845. Perhaps 1846 or thereabouts may be the date of the letter. It mentions Tommaseo, a multifarious man of letters, whom English people may remember as having written the inscription on Casa Guidi, Florence, for Mrs Browning; Buonarroti, a member of the house of the great Michelangelo; and Bozzelli, the Liberal politician in Naples, who came to precarious power in 1848. My father has mentioned him on p. 98. Libri appears to be the Librarian of that name, settled in Paris, who succumbed under a charge of serious frauds. The names of Malmusi and Bianco are not recognized by me.A.4 York Buildings, King’s Road, Chelsea.28th March 1841.My dear Signore Rossetti,You warmly recommended to Vantini one of our brother exiles, Galassi. You recommended him for some employment, and that is well. But to discover an employment is a lengthy affair, and Galassi has not a halfpenny in the world, and I, for the last month and a half, have been assisting him so far as my means allow—or indeeddon’tallow. However, an expedient has offered, equally acceptable to Galassi and to us—that of sending him toSpain. What between the friends that he has there, and others whom we could obtain for him, and his knowledge of the language, and other points, he would not find it difficult to procure occupation; here, not understanding, nor perhaps making himself understood, he would not succeed in a hundred years. Also a ship has been found which would convey him to Bilbao or Santander for a sum of £5; so that, with some few other pounds to get along with at the first start, Galassi might have a chance of better fortune. Now the ship will leave on the 30th of this month, and I can and will do my share—not the whole. Therefore I appeal to you and to other good Italians. And from you, as being better than many others, I wish for two things instead of one; I would like that, if youcan, you would inscribe your name for some shillings on the accompanying subscription-list—and that, if youwill, you would write off to Vantini, informing him that your client is preparing to depart, and does not need to be assisted save this one time, and you would send on the list to him. Vantini is indeed one of the best-hearted of them, and this I know by experience. I would myself write to him, but have recommended so many to him that I dare no more. Besides, it seems to me better, sinceyoumade the beginning, that you should bring this good work to a close. None the less, I shall be grateful to you, as if you undertook it now, and solely for my sake.Meanwhile I am greatly obliged to you for the little book you sent me; good and useful. We perhaps do not wholly agree as to the remedies to be applied to our Italy; but certainly we do agree as to her wounds, and you do a beneficial work in laying bare unremittingly one of the most pernicious. For the rest, I trust in God that one day we shall understand each other, and that you will be unwillingto hold aloof from our National Association, now re-organized in all quarters, and on the way to power.Believe meantime in the affectionate esteem of yourGiuseppe Mazzini.B.4 York Buildings, King’s Road, Chelsea.? 1841.My dear Signore Rossetti,I have managed with Vantini through a different method; anyhow, I thank you for the intention, and for what you did for my client.If you will send an order to Rolandi to deliver, to some one on my behalf, a certain number of copies of your booklet, I will send them, four days hence, by an opportunity to Spain. At present I have no opportunity as to Switzerland, but I have correspondents there; and, were the chance to present itself to you sooner than to me, address to Signor Fanciola, Postmaster at Locarno (Ticino) for “Signor Pietro Ol——”; and the copies will be distributed in accordance with your intentions.I have promised to send to a friend in New York the copy of the Papal Excommunication of Carbonarism—launched, I think, in 1820. Do you happen to know where I could find it?I am aware of your circumstances;[93]but what is requestedof you would be no more than the influence of your name among the Italians who know you. The object is to have you as our brother in our Association, so that to any inquirer one could say—“All those who truly love the cause of their country have comprehended that unity of country cannot be founded without unity of association.” There would be a slight monthly contribution fixed by yourself; there would be (and this is the most serious condition, but, as you will see, inevitable) the certainty that, in writing about our country, you would leave off recommending monarchic constitutionalism, and repeat with us: “May God and the People be the salvation of Italy!” And these, for us who are abroad, are about the only conditions of the Association. For the rest, I believe that a copy of ourGeneral Instruction, given to you by Pistrucci, has remained in your hands. The whole of our thought is there expressed; and, if one day you feel able to say “I accept it and make it mine,” you will be received by us with joy and sincere brotherliness.Meanwhile good-bye, and believe meYours,Giuseppe Mazzini.If you like, you should place at my disposal a certain number of copies for Marseilles, and for Italy in that direction; I will provide for their reaching.C.London.?November 1844.My dear Signor Rossetti,I transcribe verbatim a letter that I have received.“To Signori Rossetti, Pepoli,[94]and Mazzini. A Special Committee chosen by the Italian Working-men begs you to come together on Sunday 4th December 1844, at the hour and place most convenient to yourselves, to receive a communication of high importance; and, in the confidence that you will grant us this favour, we thank you meanwhile. The members of the aforesaid Committee—Odoardo Villani, G. B. Soldi, A. Berni, Giuseppe Gandolfini.”I don’t know anything about the object of the meeting. I know the four signatories, and they are good worthy Italians. In the impossibility, for lack of time, of corresponding as to hour and place, I take the liberty of fixing for the meeting my house, between 1 and 2P.M.I am notifying to Pepoli and to them. Try and come if you can; or, if perchance you cannot, write so as to relieve me of responsibility.Believe me alwaysYours,Giuseppe Mazzini.D.4 York Buildings, Chelsea.?May 1845.My dear Signor Rossetti,We have decided to have on an early day in June a concert for the benefit of the school; Pistrucci, I suppose, will give you all the particulars of the project, or I will give them myself. You will then see howfar and in what way you may be able to aid towards a good result. But meanwhile I have to beg you urgently for one thing. I have a letter of introduction to Miss Kemble,[95]and I want to request her to sing: singing for a school is quite a different thing from singing in a theatre. I know that she at one time asked Giannone[96]for a letter to you, and that you saw her. I don’t know on what terms you have remained with her, but, knowingyou, I presume good terms. Could you add a letter to the one which I hold? or could you join me in a visit? or, if nothing else, write to her on your own part?—and, in this last case, on Monday or Tuesday. Thus assailed at one moment from two sides, she would perhaps surrender.Whatever you decide, please oblige me with a couple of words in reply, and with the lady’s present address,[97]if you can give this.Wish me well, and believe meYour very affectionateGiuseppe Mazzini.E.108 High Holborn.31st October 1845.My dear Signor Rossetti,Pistrucci told me that he would undertake to beg you to allow your voice to be heard, in one way or other, at the Anniversary of our School, 10th November.[98]Still, I will join to his my poor request. The fact of the School is an Italian fact; and it ought, even with a view to the English, to have the moral support of all Italians who, like yourself, do honour to the name of our common country.Confiding in your willingness to hearken to our request, believe, dear Signor Rossetti, in the full friendly esteem ofYours,Giuseppe Mazzini.F.19 Cropley Street, New North Road.[?January 1847].Very dear Signor Rossetti,An opportunity has arisen. Will you give the MS. to the bearer? He will be leaving to-morrow, or at latest on Tuesday.I thank you for your good wishes for the year now commenced; but I have no hope of joy, save one alone—that of bearing witness in death, as I have endeavoured to do in life, to my Italian faith. Pray that this may occur within this year, and believe me alwaysYour much attachedGiuseppe Mazzini.G.19 Cropley Street, New North Road.[?January 1847].My dear Signor Rossetti,The Manuscript has gone off—not anything else. Ricciardi, Janer, Pistrucci, will have patience, and await other opportunities which I shall have towardsthe end of the month. We cannot, for exhortations and sonnets, be guilty of an indiscretion towards English travellers, who consider they have stretched a point if they accept letters, and are quite capable of throwing in your face a “Why not employ a bookseller?”—which I should not like. However, I undertake, for love of you, to get all the things off, but distributing them among various travellers. A slight delay will not spoil matters; nor will the exhortations to return to Paris accelerate to any great extent the progress of French civilization.I was unable to charge my traveller—an Englishman, young, and an officer—with the eight shillings, for he would probably have forgotten them. But I have written that you had given them to me, to be paid to Ricciardi—and probably they will be paid one of these days.Believe me, with all esteem,Your much attachedGiuseppe Mazzini.H.17 Cropley Street, New North Road.8th February[1847].My dear Signor Rossetti,To your MS. has happened what often happens to our Italian affairs: in trying to do good, one does harm. If we had waited patiently for that Italian traveller of mine of the 24th January, the MS. would at this date be in Paris. But, urged on by my own wishes, and also by the strong pressure, I seized the opportunity of an Englishman, Captain Boulton, and consigned the volume to him. He, as he said, was to leave on the following day.And, knowing nothing to the contrary, I supposed him to have departed, in fact; until, five or six days ago, becoming suspicious from the silence of my correspondents, and making active quest for the officer, I found that owing to some family incident or other he had deferred his departure, and had indeed gone off to the country—whence he writes that he will be leaving in seven days!!You should, therefore, be under no alarm for the MS. Like yourself, I regret the delay, but it is not my fault. If, earlier than the seven days, I get an opportunity, I will see that the MS. goes off before the officer; if not, not.I felt anxious to reply to you about the MS., as the matter of most importance. As to Ricciardi’s eight copies, please inform Ricciardi that one can’t tell a tourist, “Take with you a boxful of things”; that it is a miracle if I found some one to convey the eight; that, sooner or later, I shall find some one to convey the others; and that moreover I would not have undertaken, except for wishing to do a service to you whom I greatly esteem, to send off either the eight or the sixteen. Neither would I set going from Paris to London, and then from London to Paris, copies of my own performances, but would order them to be burned or given away.And believe me everYour much attached and affectionateGiuseppe Mazzini.I.19 Cropley Street, New North Road.?May 1847.Dear Signor Rossetti,I cannot succeed in the endeavour. Among the leading newspapers, I had no hope save in theMorningChronicle, and this one declines. The quantity of matter, electoral movements, literary articles already promised, etc., form the pretext. The true reason, I think, is that the apotheosis of Napoleon has no grateful sound to English reminiscences. Besides, a short paragraph upon the celebration of the 6th[99]had already received insertion in several journals when your letter arrived, and they are not fond of repetitions.For myself, I, as you know, do not believe in King nor in Pope: I believe in God and in ourselves. They may do what they choose, and try to compromise Charles Albert[100]in the face of Austria by every means: the rabbit will not be changed into a lion. I say rabbit, and might say fox. To celebrate Marengo, a battle won by an Italian but in the name and under the banner of the French nation, while we have the Austrians our masters two paces off, savours to me of bragging rather than of patriotism. I see these demonstrations with pleasure, because they furnish an occasion for impressing on the people, who know not, the name of Italy, and that of her oppressors; but, as an individual, I feel inclined to smile with a trifle of bitterness. In Piedmont the rabbit is now in the vein of reaction; and not only the suppression of the subscription,[101]but that of the Family-readings conceded to the Jesuits, and other recent acts, speak clearly enough. However, we shall see.I keep the letter for another two days, for a final endeavour; afterwards, I shall return it to you. Meanwhile believe me alwaysYour much attached and affectionateGiuseppe Mazzini.J.[The reference to Ricciardi’s book follows on more or less from what appears in two previous letters. The book may possibly have been a predictiveHistory of Italy from 1850 to 1900, which was published in 1842. This letter, written in the great year of European revolutions, 1848, belongs, I suppose, to a very early date in that year; perhaps prior to the insurrection in Paris, which began on 23rd February. There had been some disturbances in Milan on 3rd January, and a rising in Messina from 6th January. On 22nd February martial law was proclaimed in Lombardy by the Austrians.]19 Cropley Street, New North Road.?February 1848.My dear Signor Rossetti,I send you by Parcels Delivery Company ten copies of Ricciardi’s book, admiring our friend’s tenacity of memory, especially in this time of events. These are the only copies that I find in my possession. If Ihada larger number, the Italian friends who during the long interval have been frequenting my house must have appropriated them with no great ceremony, much as they appropriate my own books. None the less, if ever Ricciardi were to complain, I declare myself ready to pay the expense of thecopies deficient. I ought to have been on the watch, but that is not my habit.The affairs of Italy are going and will go on their right course—that is, to the expulsion of the Austrians from the Lombardo-Venetian territory. The Sicilian insurrection has done more for the Italian cause, in a few days of popular action, than two years of petitioning.Believe me alwaysYour much attachedGiuseppe Mazzini.K.19 Cropley Street, New North Road.?November 1848.My dear Signor Rossetti,Here is the Address which we sent to the Swiss Diet. I will add that a discussion on military capitulations was in consequence started in the Diet by the Ticino and the Bas-Valais; a discussion which, as befalls everything important in that Central (not Government but) mis-Government, was not settled, but held over (as they say)ad referendum.Make any use of me that I can manage, and believe me alwaysYour much attachedGiuseppe Mazzini.L.To “Corso”Brother,I have received yours of the 8th. That I should write to you at much length on the subject of yourletter is not possible. You, however, will certainly not suppose that I evade the discussion, nor that I do not set a right value on your convictions, or do not care about them. No indeed; and you are mistaken in fancying that your frankness of speech could ever offend me. If you but knew how the religion of truth is the religion for me! and how much any real conviction inspires me with respect, if not assent! But this is not a question to be disposed of in a few letters; nor have I time, beset as I am by a thousand distractions through my dream of Italian initiative, to enter on a discussion. And, if I ever have time, I shall compose, I confess to you, a whole volume—but I shall never publish it, unless a Republican revolution should have broken out. For the present, I understand this latest reaction in favour of Christianity, and I see it to be necessary, and acknowledge it as useful. A true knowledge of Christianity—its nature, its mission—will follow from this study. Just as, in my view,reformmust naturally precede the securing of independence, liberty, and equality, in political dogma, so do I believe that the political synthesis, or at any rate a glimpse of this synthesis, must, in the new epoch, precede in renovated Europe the manifestation of the religious synthesis of the epoch. Rights were of yore individual; and it was natural that first theindividualshould be emancipated, that theinstrumentshould be formed to acquire an application of those rights in the political department. At the present time the reverse is the case. The question is that of thesocialsynthesis. Theinstrumentis no longer theindividual, but the people. Therefore the people, which is to secure the religious formula, requires to beconstituted: therefore a political revolution before the religious one.Only, you know what I have always said: like advancedscouts, secret sentinels of human nature,intelligencesmust begin to proclaim that they descry thenew landsand the new law. And therefore I should have supposed you to be among them; and I still believe that you will be among them later on. Meanwhile, as you think that my efforts (and be it observed that I am doing nothing) are to subserve the triumph of Christianity, so do I think that yours are to subserve the triumph of the new synthesis, thesocialsynthesis, philosophy merged into religion: because—I do not deny it—my “harmonized dualism” is precisely this harmonizing of philosophy with religion—two things which hitherto have been at odds, and which will end by coalescing. Yours is, without your perceiving it, an eclecticism and no more. Yourquid tertium, neithercatholicnorprimitive(two distinctions as to which I should have much to say), is an Utopia, or rather a chimera. You don’t perceive that that which you callprimitiveis at bottom nothing except Christianity in the soul, not any social form; that the second epoch—i.e.Catholicism—is rightly the application of Christianity to society; and that the Reformation—a cynical movement, whatever you may say about it—came, in fact, to say of Christianity: “You are not susceptible of any social application, of any national unity, because you are an individualistic formula and no more: stay you in your proper sphere.”You and I, I perceive, regard the Reformation, and all things, from different points of view.And now see what is the outcome of the idea, “Christianity is aneternalreligion, an unique religious synthesis.” And what of mankind prior to Christianity? Oh in what sense do you understand God, if you admit that He gave the unique eternal synthesis some thousands of years after the race had been created? And the unity of the mind of God? Aprogressive law at the beginning, and an eternal synthesis later on? But no more of this; you go too far. Believing as I do, with yourself, in continuous progression, there ought to be between us only a question of time, but never a denial of a new synthesis when the time comes.Christianity asserts its perfection and eternity as a fundamental principle: therefore you cannot, without destroying it, say that it is not the whole of truth.But once again, no more of this. Christianity had to profess itself perfect and eternal, and I even admit that. But when did Christianity ever affect to be a social religion?Thatis the question. Christianity is the formula of the individual, and as such is eternal and perfect to my thinking—for that formula is what no one can nullify. It means liberty and equality; and who can ever henceforth exclude those two bases of progress from the progress of the future? Christianity therefore will endure. Only, behind that formula one seeks for another—the social. Where is the contradiction?Tell me, my Corso, with your hand on your heart. To the arguments which I scatter in my letters, hurried, unconnected, and almost sportive, the true fruit of profound convictions, and which you (permit me to say) shirk a little in your replies, have you anything to oppose? Do not some of the things which I say, if you think them over seriously, cast some doubts on your mind?As to what you cite to me, regarding miracles, and the resurrection of Christ, etc., I will not discuss to-day; but I confess to you, it seems to me strange that you should regard those as being irrevocably proved in history.I say it seriously, some one will come to furbish up my ideas, without knowing that I advocated them. I am more than likely to die without doing this, because I am consciousof my mission, and I know the duration of it—and I know that it is not I who will wage the war. Truth means to run her course, and she will do it; but I shall not lay the foundation-stone of the edifice—I have no future. I have discerned, but it is not given to me to do more; therefore I still devote these my days to a work very inferior to that which my longings would have sought for—the actual production of the instrument. I am neither more nor less than a political revolutionist, and to this I resign myself. Would that I may at least be that, and wrench this Italy that I love out of the mire in which she lies, set her freed face to face with her destinies, and say to her, “Now make them yours.”As you see, I am writing to Gioberti. Writing thus to all and sundry begins to weigh upon me. I have moments ofspleen, of individualism which rebels; and at those moments I seem to myself to be playing the prostitute, and making Italian liberty play the like part. For if you but knew how many letters, and these to intellects so-called, and all useless! But these are moments of irritation, arising out of what I have myself been suffering these three years, and this is more than you suppose, and you know it not, and never will know it. Then I return to myself; and, where I can see any little advantage, any symptom of duty, I submit and write.Hand also the enclosed lines to Tommaseo, who, like others, does not understand me, and does not understand the situation in which we are.Have you seen Libri? You will tell me that I am pertinacious; this is true. But all those who desert me, without any fault of mine against them, and without my being even able to guess the reason, cause me real pain.If you know Malmusi, or can get at any one who knows him, don’t forget to tell him that for the love of God he should reassure me concerning the arrival of certain letters of mine: his silence troubles me.Of politics I say nothing, as I do not mean to speak about them until the first half of the month of October; then I shall have data from which to speak. Meanwhile I repeat to you what I told you.Did you ever see Buonarroti? Do you know where Bianco is? Of him I know nothing of late, and I am anxious to write to him. Do they ever write to you from Turin? What Italians are you acquainted with? Bozzelli?Wish well to yourStrozzi.Put an envelope on the letter to Gioberti. Write to me what reception he gives it. Pray excuse.[102]No. 5.—Six Poems by Gabriele Rossetti[I give here six specimens of my father’s powers as a poet. Setting asideSan Paolo in Malta, which is only an improvise, it may be said that in all these instances the verses rank among his choice things; though many others could be quoted not inferior. The dates which I give may be regarded as correct, unless as to the final sonnet, regarding which I am uncertain.The lyric,Aurora del 21 Luglio del 1820, was, as I have before said, extremely celebrated in its time; and theAddioalla Patriahas always been an admired piece. TheSan Paolo in Maltais referred to at p. 61, and testifies to Rossetti’s uncommon power as an Improvisatore; being as it is interza rima, each rhyme is triplicated, and thus the improvising effort was all the more arduous.I leave these poems to the perusal of such readers as are acquainted with Italian. To try to translate them would be little else than to scheme deliberately to spoil them.]A.Ad AmoreAlato bambino,Tiranno de’ cuori,Ch’io segua il camminoChe innanzi m’infiori?Unendomi tecoCh’io veggio sì cieco,Oh quanto sareiPiù cieco di te!Pur troppo gemei,Fanciullo inumano!Ma i lacci funestiChe al piè mi cingestiDel Tempo la manoMi sciolse dal piè.A credulo cuoreTu scaltro dispensiContento ed ardoreChe inebbriano i sensi:Ma in mezzo al contentoPrepari il tormento;L’ardor ti precede,Ti segue il languor.Nè l’alma si avvedeDel passo imprudenteChe quando a fuggireLe manca l’ardire,Che quando si senteGià vinta dal cuor.Quel dì che sul mondoVagisti bambino,Un cenno iracondoDel sordo DestinoDi face feraleLa destra immortaleDi penne funesteIl dorso ti armò.Le penne son queste,O nume fallace,Che a Pari infedeleGonfiaron le vele,E questa è la faceChe Troia bruciò.Tu godi, o tiranno,Di sparger la terraDi gioia, d’affanno,Di pace, di guerra;Ma finta è la pace,La guerra è verace,L’affanno rimane,La gioia sen va.Insidie sì straneCi ordisci, ci tendi,Che a render prigioneL’augusta Ragione,Tuoi complici rendiIngegno e Beltà.Chi crede a’ tuoi dettiNe attenda la fine;Le rose promettiPer dargli le spine:Ben sento che giovaSaperlo per prova;Ma troppo al mio cuoreTal prova costò.La via del doloreIo teco calcava;Ma in mezzo del corsoIntesi il RimorsoCheferma, gridava,Ma tardi gridò.Quel giorno che il veloMi cadde dal ciglio,Rimasi di geloScorgendo il periglio:Sul velo squarciato,Sul laccio spezzato,Il canto innalzaiDi mia libertà.Ah libero omaiDal giogo abborrito,Sull’ara tua stessaCrollata, depressa,Innalzo pentitoL’altar d’Amistà.1813.B.Versi d’AmoreDal tuo leggiadro visoIl mio destin dipende:D’ugual desio mi accendeIl tuo desio.Dal labbro tuo soltantoHa questo labbro il riso:Ha dal tuo ciglio il piantoIl ciglio mio.1814.C.Aurora del 21 Luglio del 1820Sei pur bella cogli astri sul crineChe scintillan quai vivi zaffiri,È pur dolce quel fiato che spiri,Porporina foriera del dì.Col sorriso del pago desioTu ci annunzii dal balzo vicinoChe d’Italia nell’almo giardinoIl servaggio per sempre finì.Il rampollo d’Enrico e di Carlo,Ei ch’ad ambo cotanto somiglia,Oggi estese la propria famiglia,E non servi ma figli bramò.Volontario distese la manoSul volume de’ patti segnati;E il volume de’ patti giuratiDella patria sull’ara posò.Una selva di lance si scosseAll’invito del bellico squillo,Ed all’ombra del sacro vessilloUn sol voto discorde non fù.E fratelli si strinser le mani,Dauno, Irpino, Lucano, Sannita;Non estinta ma solo sopitaEra in essi l’antica virtù.Ma qual suono di trombe festive!Chi s’avanza fra cento coorti?Ecco il forte che riede tra i forti,[103]Che la patria congiunse col re!Oh qual pompa! Le armate falangiSembran fiumi che inondin le strade!Ma su tante migliaia di spadeUna macchia di sangue non v’è.Lieta scena! Chi plaude, chi piange,Chi diffonde vïole e giacinti,Vincitori confusi coi vintiAvvicendano il bacio d’amor!Dalla reggia passando al tugurioNon più finta la gioia festeggia;Dal tugurio tornando alla reggiaQuella gioia si rende maggior.Genitrici de’ forti campioniConvocati dal sacro stendardo,Che cercate col pavido sguardo?Non temete, chè tutti son quì.Non ritornan da terra nemica,Istrumenti di regio misfatto,Ma dal campo del vostro riscatto,Dove il ramo di pace fiorì.O beata fra tante donzelle,O beata la ninfa che vedeFra que’ prodi l’amante che riedeTutto sparso di nobil sudor!Il segreto dell’alma pudicaLe si affaccia sul volto rosato,Ed il premio finora negatoLa bellezza prepara al valor.Cittadini, posiamo sicuriSotto l’ombra de’ lauri mietuti,Ma coi pugni sui brandi temutiStiamo in guardia del patrio terren.Nella pace prepara la guerraChi da saggio previene lo stolto:Ci sorrida la pace sul volto,Ma ci frema la guerra nel sen.Che guardate, gelosi stranieri?Non uscite dai vostri burroni,Chè la stirpe dei prischi leoniPiù nel sonno languente non è.Adorate le vostre catene;Chi v’invidia cotanto tesoro?Ma lasciate tranquilli coloroChe disdegnan sentirsele al piè.Se verrete, le vostre consorti,Imprecando ai vessilli funesti,Si preparin le funebri vesti,Chè speranza per esse non v’ha.Sazierete la fame de’ corvi,Mercenarie falangi di schiavi;In chi pugna pe’ dritti degli aviDivien cruda la stessa pietà.Una spada di libera manoÈ saetta di Giove tonante,Ma nel pugno di servo tremanteCome canna vacilla l’acciar.Fia trionfo la morte per noi,Fia ruggito l’estremo sospiro;Le migliaia di Persia fuggiro,I trecento di Sparta restâr!E restaron coi brandi ne’ pugniSopra mucchi di corpi svenati,E que’ pugni, quantunque gelati,Rassembravan disposti a ferir.Quello sdegno passava nel figlioCui fù culla lo scudo del padre,Ed al figlio diceva la madre,“Quest’esempio tu devi seguir.”O tutrice dei dritti dell’uomo,Che sorridi sul giogo spezzato,È pur giunto quel giorno beatoChe un monarca t’innalza l’altar!Tu sul Tebro fumante di sanguePasseggiavi qual nembo fremente,Ma serena qual’alba ridenteSul Sebeto t’assidi a regnar.Una larva col santo tuo nomeQuì sen venne con alta promessa;Noi, credendo che fossi tu stessa,Adorammo la larva di te:Ma, nel mentre fra gl’inni usurpatiSfavillava di luce fallace,Ella sparve qual sogno fugace,Le catene lasciandoci al piè.Alla fine tu stessa venistiNon ombrata da minimo velo,Ed un raggio disceso dal cieloSulla fronte ti veggio brillar.Coronata di gigli perenni,Alla terra servendo d’esempio,Tu scegliesti la reggia per tempio,Ove il trono ti serve d’altar.1820.D.Addio alla PatriaNella notte più serenaEra in ciel la luna piena:Neve il dorso e fiamma il crinRiflettea dal mar vicinIl Vesèvo che grandeggiaCome reggia—di Vulcan:D’arme grave—anglica naveTrascorrea l’equoreo pian.Quando il profugo cantore,La cui colpa è il patrio amore,Atteggiato di martir,Schiuse il labbro ad un sospirE qual flebile usignuolo,Il suo duolo—a disfogar,Dal naviglio—volse il ciglioLa sua terra a salutar.O Partenope, egli dice,O Partenope infelice,Di tua gloria il chiaro dìQuasi al nascere morì!Ah dal cor t’indrizzo i carmiNel sottrarmi—a reo poter,E nel bando—miserandoSarai sempre il mio pensier!Rè fellon che ci tradisti,Tu rapisci e non racquisti:Maledetto, o rè fellon,Sii dall’austro all’aquilon!Maledetto ogni malnatoChe ha tramato—insiem con te!Maledetto—ogni soggettoChe ti lambe il sozzo piè!Ti sien contro in ogni locoCielo e terra, mare e foco,Nè dien tregua a un infedelFoco e mare, terra e ciel!Sì, ti faccian sempre guerraCielo e terra—foco e mar!Ti stia scritto—il tuo delittoSulla mensa e sull’altar!Traditor, da quel momentoChe infrangesti il giuramento,Cento stili, o traditor,Tendon’ avidi al tuo cor...Deh frenate il santo sdegno,Non n’è degno—un cor brutal,E saetta—di vendettaTenga il luogo del pugnal!Che pel fulmine di DioDe’ suoi falli ei paghi il fio,Ma di Bruto il sacro stilOnorar non dee quel vil!No, non abbia il vil la gloriaChe la storia—dica un dì:Il nefando—FerdinandoCome Cesare perì!Mesta Italia, io ti saluto:Qual momento hai tu perduto!Quel momento, o Dio, chi sàSe mai più ritornerà?Già sorgea ringiovanitaL’impigrita—tua virtù...Come mai—tornar potraiAl languor di servitù?Deh perchè non farla, o Sorte,O men bella, o almen più forte?L’astringesti ad invocarLo straniero infido acciar,Onde o vinta o vincitriceL’infelice—ognor servì,E impugnando—estraneo brandoSè medesma ognor ferì.Ah crudel, se a questa terraFar volevi eterna guerra,Perchè darle poi, crudel,Questo suolo e questo ciel?Quì le vergini di GioveTutte e nove—apriro il vol,Quì sfavilla—la scintillaChe Prometeo tolse al sol.Surse quì la face aurataSull’Europa ottenebrata,E l’Europa a quel fulgorSi scotea dal suo torpor.Cento doti, Italia bella,Lieta stella—a te largì;Ahi t’invola—quella solaChe ti fea regina un dì!Libertà, tu fuggi? Ed io...Io ti seguo; Italia, addio!Libertà, non mai da te,Mai non fia ch’io torca il piè!Oh se un dì farai ritorno,In quel giorno—anch’io verrò;Ma infelice—il cor mi diceChe mai più non tornerò!Sì dicea; ma l’igneo monteDecrescea nell’orizzonte,E la luna in mezzo al cielS’era ascosa in grigio vel.Par che stia con veste oscuraLa Natura—a dolorar,Par lamento—il flebil vento,Par singulto il rotto mar.Addio, terra sventurata!...Ma la terra era celata.Ei nel duol che l’aggravòChinò ’l capo e singhiozzò.Ahi l’amor della sua terra,Ahi qual guerra—in sen gli fà!Infelice!—il cor gli diceChe mai più non tornerà!24 Giugno 1821.

1st February 1842.My very dear Sir,... Have you ever readLe Livre Mystiqueof De Balzac, a living French author—a book published in 1836? Read it, for it is truly curious. It is divided into three parts, and expounds mysticism in mystic language, somewhat less obscure than in the ancient works of like kind. In the first part he introduces a certain Louis Lambert as expounder of mysticism; in the second he introduces Dante at the school of Sigier in Paris, “al Vico degli Strami, Sillogizzando invidiosi veri”:[90]in the third he introduces a nephew of Swedenborg,female and male, a fantastic and changeful being, Seraphita-Seraphitus; and she-and-he expresses herself in terms fit to set the soundest head in a whirl,—and says among other things: “L’union qui se fait d’unesprit d’amouret d’unesprit de sagessemet la créature à l’étatdivin, pendant que son âme estfemmeet que son corps esthomme; dernière expression humaine où l’esprit l’emporte sur la forme, et la forme se débat encore contre l’esprit divin.... Ainsile naturel(état dans lequel sont les êtres non régénérés),le spirituel(état dans lequel sont les esprits angéliques), etledivin(état dans lequel demeure l’ange avant de briser son enveloppe), sontles trois degrésde l’exister par lesquels l’homme parvient au ciel.” (Vol. II. p. 102.) And so on to a large extent. What seems to me most noticeable is to see Dante and Swedenborg put on the same footing. And Reghellini says plainly that Dante was a Freemason (videVol. III. pp. 48, 49). And Ragon affirms the same (pp. 290-332)....Your most attachedG. Rossetti.No. 3.—From Three Letters from Seymour [Barone] Kirkup to Gabriele Rossetti[Mr Seymour Kirkup, an English painter and man of letters established in Florence, became an enthusiastic adherent to Rossetti’s scheme of Dantesque interpretation, from reading his Comment on theInfernoand hisSpirito Antipapale. In his later years he was made a Barone of the Italian Kingdom, and he died at a great age towards 1880. The following extracts relate chiefly to the deeply interesting discovery, in which he bore a very principal part, of the portrait of Dante by Giotto in the Chapel of the Podestà, in the Bargello of Florence.]A.Florence,12th September 1840.My very excellent Friend,Yours of the 22nd July came safe with the Sonnet, “O della mente eterna immago e prole.” It is verybeautiful. It is capital. Let me thank you very sincerely, and let me congratulate you on Germany being about to enjoy the benefit of your invaluable discoveries. Every new country is a triumph of your cause; and, whilst all Europe will be benefiting by your genius and learning, Italy alone remains without an Italian edition of the original Italian work on the great luminary of Italy and of the world. In Florence there are too many obstacles: the priests, and the antiquated routine imbecility of the Crusca. The word-mongers are all envious. They are true bran, and well sifted from the fior di pensieri. They are old, and find your success a reproach, and in this country all hue and cry raised against innovation is supported by force. The tone of the court and the police is carried into the Academies. Well may you say “L’Italia invidia omai fin la Turchia.”I have delayed writing in the hopes of sending you a sketch which will interest you, but I have hitherto been disappointed. We have made a discovery of an original portrait of Dante in fresco by Giotto! Although I was a magna pars in this undertaking, the Jacks in Office have not allowed me yet to make a copy. Sono tanto gelosi, most likely afraid I should publish it and prevent some friends of their own reaping all the profit they hope from that speculation.I was the person who first mentioned to Sig. Bezzi, a Piedmontese and friend of Carlo Eastlake’s, the existence of the portrait under the whitewash of three centuries. We were joined by an American, and we three undertook at our expense to employ a restorer to uncover the walls of the old chapel in the palace of the Podestà in search of the portrait—mentioned by F. Villani, Filelfo, L. Aretino, Vasari, Cinelli, etc. Nothing but the constancy and talent of Sig. Bezzi could have overcome the numberless obstacles and refusalswe met with. He wrote and spoke with the persuasions of an advocate, and persevered with the obstinacy and activity of an Englishman (which I believe he now is). He alone was the cause of success. We should have had no chance without him. At last, after uncovering enough of three walls to ascertain it was not there, the Government took the task into their own hands, on our terms, with the same restorer, and in the fifth wall they have succeeded. The number of walls is six, for the chapel has been divided in two—(magazines of wine, oil, bread, etc., for the prisoners).The precise date of the painting is not known. The poet looks about 28—very handsome—un Apollo colle fattezze di Dante. The expression and character are worthy of the subject, and much beyond what I expected from Giotto. Raphael might own it with honour. Add to which it is not the mask of a corpse of 56—a ruin—but a fine, noble image of the Hero of Campaldino, the Lover of Beatrice. The costume very interesting—no beard or even a lock of hair.A white cap, over which a white capuccio, lined with dark red showing the edge turned back. A parchment book under his arm—perhaps the Vita Nuova.It is in a group of many others—one seems Charles II. of Naples. Brunetto Latini and Corso Donati are mentioned by the old authors.I send herewith a pamphlet by Prof. Nannucci—very curious and very interesting respecting Dante—and a dose for the Crusca.I wrote to you by Mr Craufurd, who took charge of the medal, and sent two pamphlets by him, one for Mr Taylor—and two letters of thanks, one to him and one to Mr Lyell; but I fear by what you say in your last letter you have never received them. Mr C[raufurd] is a friend of Eastlake’s, whocan perhaps get them for you. I liked Mr Taylor’s book[91]very much indeed, and am very grateful to you and him.Yours most sincerely,Seymour Kirkup.B.Florence,14th September 1841.My dear Friend,By the time you receive this, I hope that the portrait of Dante, for you, will be in London.The gentleman who has taken charge of it was in such haste to leave the country (from the consequences of a fatal duel) that I had not an opportunity for writing.You will receive, in fact, three portraits. They are as follows:—No. 1. A drawing in chalk, on light-brown paper, of the face as large as the original. I had intended to write a memorandum on it, but in my hurry it was forgotten. Perhaps you would have the kindness to add it, if you think it worth while—viz.“Drawn by S. K., and traced with talc, on the original fresco by Giotto; discovered in the Chapel of the Palazzo del Podestà, Florence, on the 21st July 1840, before it was retouched.”No. 2. A small sketch in water-colours, giving the colours of the dress, and the heads supposed to be of Corso Donati and Brunetto Latini.No. 3. A Lithography by the painter and restorer Marini,who uncovered the painting. This is made on a tracing by himself.I thought it useful to send you these in order to give you a better idea of this very interesting discovery—Dante, under 30 years of age. With respect to No. 1, it is fixed with glue-water, and will not rub out with common usage. The only thing it is liable to is the cracking or bending of the paper, which sometimes in a face alters the expression.Since I drew it, I have had the mortification to see the original retouched, and its beauty destroyed. You will perceive that the eye is wanting. A deep hole in the wall was found exactly on that spot, as if done on purpose. It was necessary to fill it that it might not extend further: not content, they ordered Sig. Marini to paint the eye on it, and he has daubed over the face in many parts, to the ruin of its expression and character. It is now 15 years older, a mean, pinched expression, and an effeminate character, compared to what it was. It is not quite so bad as the lithography I send you, but not far from it. When I saw what was done, I asked a young man, his assistant, if it was done with colours in tempera, and he assured me, with a boast, that it was in bon fresco. If so, Dante is gone for good. But I have still hopes that he spoke only of the eye, and many of my friends think it can only be accomplished on the old and hard painting by some distemper-colour of glue, size, or egg; and, if so, a damp cloth fixed on it for half-an-hour will bring it all away without injuring the original fresco. I mean to take my time, and perhaps some day I may restore Dante to himself a second time. I had the principal part in the late discovery.The lithography I send you is exceedingly unlike and incorrect, although a tracing. In shading and finishing hehas totally lost and changed the outline, if he ever had it. It is vulgar, old, and effeminate—the contrary in every respect to the original. The Florentines of to-day cannot draw, nor even trace. Think of what such a hand would do, if allowed to paint over it! and that has been the case. It is a misfortune when the direction of the fine arts is in the hands of an ignorant man, chosen only for hisNobility! Our Direttore with his cleaners has been the ruin of paintings in the Galleries, since I have been here, to the value of £60,000 or £80,000 sterling—and the money is the least part of the loss. When I mentioned to you that my drawing was a secret, I only meant that, if known here that I obtained access to make a tracing by bribery, it would compromise those who had assisted me. You are welcome to show it to whom you please, anddo whatever you wish with it. But I recommend you not to give it away, for it is theonlycopy that has been made to my knowledge before the fresco was retouched, except the miserable lithography which I send; and, if so bad a copy was produced by the help of tracing, and from the original in its pure state, nothing very good is to be expected in future. The eye in the said lithography was, of course, added by the copier. You will perceive by my drawing that the outline (the eyelash) remained, which was fortunate, as it gives the exact situation of the feature.We are in daily expectation of the arrival of The Book of Mystery.[92]I am doubly anxious, from the distinguished honour you have conferred on me. The Marquis and the Professor are full of gratitude to you, but the Frenchman (entre nous) seemed to confer a favour rather than receive one. And so great a one!Gente francesca!The scientific meeting of Florence commences to-morrow, and ends on the 8th Oct. It opens with a grand Mass of Spontini, in the Church of S. Croce. Galileo’s shrine will be the favourite of the four great Tuscans—besides whom, there is a host of secondary stars: F. Barberini, C. Marsuppini, Leonardo Aretino, Lami, Mascagni, Alfieri, Rinuccini, Alberti, etc., etc., etc.Do you know the Improvisatore Regaldi? and hisCarme a Firenze—written about three years ago. There are some lines on the subject of S. Croce.God bless you, my dear friend, and allow me once more to thank you for all your kindness, and to subscribe myselfMost sincerely yours,Seymour Kirkup.Best remembrances to Sig. Carlo (Eastlake, his name in Rome).The name of the bearer of the portrait is Plowden. He is a banker of Florence, and may be heard of at Messrs Harris & Farquhar, Bankers, of London. He will send it you, I hope, or leave it himself.C.Florence,5th February 1843.My dear Friend,Let me add my thanks to the rest of the world for the mental enjoyment afforded by yourBeatrice. My share is the greater for the handsome and honourable mention you make of me. I am proud of your approbation and good opinion, and am doubly grateful for the rank inyour esteem which you have so generously bestowed on me. The book has met with unusual success here. It has converted many. Whether the name has attracted the public, or the compactness has excited the idle, or the cheapness the economic, or all together, I know not, but it has been much read and admired. Italians and Tramontani are all full of it. I think in general they are grateful for the light; although it destroys a romantic illusion, which has been much cherished, especially on this spot, but which they cannot now entertain, except at the expense of adhering to an absurdity, or rather many absurdities. Some, however, are too far committed, and have too much vanity to acknowledge themselves wrong—the vulgar and the selfish in particular.For my own part, I have found the Ragionamento in part a renewal and condensation of what I had already learned from your former works, divided and spread through them. In this first Ragionamento you have not given the demonstration (I suppose it will follow in a succeeding one) of Boccaccio’s fault respecting May-Day, which is so complete and curious in theMisteri Platonici....The most important of your decisions is confirmed and strengthened in this volume: I mean your identification of Beatrice and Filosofia. Your three reasons at the top of p. 20 are new and unanswerable. How completely Dante blindfolds the superficial reader (which I was, till you taught me to fathom him) by making one believe that the lady at the window wasmundane philosophy, and that Beatrice, orDivine Science, reproaches Dante in Purgatory for having yielded to her attractions for a short time....I am so engrossed by your work that I am carried away and not answering your very kind and most friendly letter. A thousand thanks for it. I know how your time is filled,and have always wondered how you can get through all. I fear even writing you, but you desired me to send you all I think ofBeatrice. My letter would be long indeed if I touched on all its beauties: I should copy the book. There are many additional discoveries in the weaving of this mystic web which the book is rich in. You still surprise those whom you have already convinced. You are certainly an extraordinary Unraveller—a Disentangler—and I will say that, notwithstanding the dry task of unpicking knots, tight-drawn on purpose to resist skill and force, you have performed it with a skill and elegance that render it exciting and delightful to follow.You desire all my “opposizioni.” Lord help me! Can I find an error or two of the press?...I am longing for the next Ragionamento; I don’t know if others want much more to convince them, but in general the first part seems to have had that effect.Mr Lyell judges me, as you do, too partially. All I have learned I owe to you; and I confess to you that I have often found it difficult, even with your powerful help, to remove the substantial screen which Dante has built uppurposelyto conceal and protect his secret. But, when I think of you, who have, alone and single-handed, knocked over so many formidable barriers, and shown us the gardens and roses, the groves, the apples, the laurels, the olives, the flowers, the stags, and all the magic machinery of secret romance, I am lost in thinking how you found your way in such a labyrinth, and what immense and curious courses of reading you must have gone through, turning all you obtained to the accomplishing your will and determination to penetrate an untrod region, without a track or vestige to guide you. I wish I had the ability to write a descriptionof yourMisteri. Perhaps I could be of use in lending a hand merely, as I have studied them much; butmytools are paint-brushes, and I am not practised in the art of writing. My education has been too defective for me ever to have ventured in print. A weak defender is more dangerous than a strong opponent, and all I could hope would be perhaps to hit on some thought that might have escaped others; but without some help from the third heaven (which a good friend of mine knows of) I should not be able to clothe it so as to render it decent.I observe what you say on the subject of necessary reserve on certain subjects. You are quite right. You cannot be too careful in your situation and with your family. From your letter I see that your opinions are nearer mine than I supposed. But, as I am living out of the world and am perfectly free from it, I can safely be as explicit as I please. I have no reserve, and, if everthecause require a word beyond the customary and necessary limits, call upon me to say it, or say anything for me against priestcraft and kingcraft. That is my religion.I don’t wonder at Mr Lyell’s exultation at yourBeatrice. There are some master-touches amongst the new proofs, both in matter and manner, both close reasoning and light....The three pomegranates in Giotto’s fresco are so uncertain in their appearance, from injury and time, that I was doubtful about them, but a word from you decides the question in my mind. They are chipped and much obliterated; and, from their seeming a sort of double outline, and no shade or colour but the yellow drapery on which they are painted, I took them for an embroidery on the breast of the Barone. Some remains of fingers and stalk, however, had led theFlorentines to consider them as melograni, and they were puzzling their brains to find a meaning....Your whole-length portrait of yourself is full of nature and character, and therefore it must be very like: I thank you for it. And here is mine:—a little thin old man, 54, formerly dark, now very grey. Fond of fun, but not often tempted to indulge in it, and seldom depressed. Living alone in an old tower with two dogs only—a servant coming daily for a few hours. Disliking much to go into company, and especially to dress in cold weather, being slovenly even in my younger days. I live very temperately and never take wine. I am very active, more from lightness than strength, for I feel the effects of years and illness. Just now I boast, for I have had extraordinary health this autumn and winter. I paint a little, and read a good deal. I ought to do more in both, with opportunities and perfect liberty, but I am slow and stupid. My memory, too, is weaker than it was.Lord Vernon has twice desired me to present his best compliments and remembrances to you. He hopes you have received his book (through Molini). There is an outline in it from my tracing of Dante’s head, and, though it is not very correct, it is the best yet done....When will your new edition ofIddio e l’Uomocome out? I admired it much in its former state. Forgive the length of this letter, and remember me to Eastlake and Keightley.Believe me, with sincere affection,Your faithful friend,Seymour Kirkup.No. 4.—Letters (or Extracts from Letters) from Giuseppe Mazzini—Eleven to Rossetti, and one to another CorrespondentThe following are the only letters from Mazzini that remain among my father’s papers—except some other three or four, too trifling to be printed. The originals are naturally in Italian; the translation is mine. Letters A. and B. relate to a certain Galassi and Vantini, whom I do not remember, but the letters explain themselves well enough. Mention is also made of a “little book” by my father, which wasRome towards the Middle of the Nineteenth Century. Letters C, D, and E, refer to a school which was got up in London, by some leading resident Italians interested in the lot of their fellow-countrymen, for the instruction of the poorer and hitherto much neglected members of the colony—organ-grinders, plaster-cast vendors, models, waiters, journeymen, etc. The ice-cream purveyor did not exist at that remote date. This school, held in the Hatton Garden quarter, went on for some few years, dignified by the countenance of Mazzini, and greatly indebted to the practical work of (among others) Filippo Pistrucci, who was a painter, teacher, writer, and improvisatore, brother of the celebrated medallist. Rossetti of course concurred, but without taking any very active part. Letters F, G, and H, refer mainly to a MS. which my father wished to send to Paris—being, I take it, the selection of his poems, many of them youthful, which were published at Lausanne, under the titleVersi. There is also some mention of the Conte Giuseppe Ricciardi, named on p. 91 of the present book. He belonged to the Mazzinian sect, but sometimes kicked against the traces, and one can see in the correspondence that the great chief found him onoccasion a little exacting and tenacious. Letter I has reference to afêtewhich Signor Giovanni Antonio Delavo, who had erected a villa on the site of the Battle of Marengo, got up on the anniversary of the conflict. He had induced my father to write a poem for that commemoration; and Mazzini, it seems, was invited to obtain the insertion, in some English newspaper, of the poem, or of some other writing connected with the occurrence. In this letter, and in the following one (J), the observations about political events deserve notice. The final letter (K) seems to belong to a late date in 1848, and to imply that various Italians, including Mazzini himself, had addressed the Swiss Diet in consequence of some complications arising out of the Italian military reverses, in conflict with the Austrians, towards the close of that memorable year of unmeasured hopes and cruel disappointments.A few notes of my own on minor points are appended to the correspondence.Besides the eleven letters to my father, I give one letter, of far larger purport, which is quite unconnected with my family. It was lately purchased by a daughter of mine, simply as an autograph. On the purport of this document I need not enlarge, as it speaks for itself. It stands numbered at the close “15” in Mazzini’s handwriting, and would seem therefore to be one missive in a sustained correspondence. The recipient (or some one) has written upon it in Italian, “Letter from Giuseppe Mazzini”; moreover, the peculiar handwriting is quite unmistakable. It bears no date, and, for reasons readily surmisable, no postmark. In the course of the letter the addressee is spoken of as “My Corso”: I presume, therefore, that his surname may have been Corso, but thismightalso be a Christian name, or might merelymean “Corsican.” A name is written by Mazzini on the back of the letter; it has been partly inked over, and looks to me more like “Mr Clare” than anything else.The letter shows that the addressee had some relations with Vincenzo Gioberti, the celebrated Churchman and Minister of State, whose leading work,Il Primato d’Italia, was published in 1845. Perhaps 1846 or thereabouts may be the date of the letter. It mentions Tommaseo, a multifarious man of letters, whom English people may remember as having written the inscription on Casa Guidi, Florence, for Mrs Browning; Buonarroti, a member of the house of the great Michelangelo; and Bozzelli, the Liberal politician in Naples, who came to precarious power in 1848. My father has mentioned him on p. 98. Libri appears to be the Librarian of that name, settled in Paris, who succumbed under a charge of serious frauds. The names of Malmusi and Bianco are not recognized by me.A.4 York Buildings, King’s Road, Chelsea.28th March 1841.My dear Signore Rossetti,You warmly recommended to Vantini one of our brother exiles, Galassi. You recommended him for some employment, and that is well. But to discover an employment is a lengthy affair, and Galassi has not a halfpenny in the world, and I, for the last month and a half, have been assisting him so far as my means allow—or indeeddon’tallow. However, an expedient has offered, equally acceptable to Galassi and to us—that of sending him toSpain. What between the friends that he has there, and others whom we could obtain for him, and his knowledge of the language, and other points, he would not find it difficult to procure occupation; here, not understanding, nor perhaps making himself understood, he would not succeed in a hundred years. Also a ship has been found which would convey him to Bilbao or Santander for a sum of £5; so that, with some few other pounds to get along with at the first start, Galassi might have a chance of better fortune. Now the ship will leave on the 30th of this month, and I can and will do my share—not the whole. Therefore I appeal to you and to other good Italians. And from you, as being better than many others, I wish for two things instead of one; I would like that, if youcan, you would inscribe your name for some shillings on the accompanying subscription-list—and that, if youwill, you would write off to Vantini, informing him that your client is preparing to depart, and does not need to be assisted save this one time, and you would send on the list to him. Vantini is indeed one of the best-hearted of them, and this I know by experience. I would myself write to him, but have recommended so many to him that I dare no more. Besides, it seems to me better, sinceyoumade the beginning, that you should bring this good work to a close. None the less, I shall be grateful to you, as if you undertook it now, and solely for my sake.Meanwhile I am greatly obliged to you for the little book you sent me; good and useful. We perhaps do not wholly agree as to the remedies to be applied to our Italy; but certainly we do agree as to her wounds, and you do a beneficial work in laying bare unremittingly one of the most pernicious. For the rest, I trust in God that one day we shall understand each other, and that you will be unwillingto hold aloof from our National Association, now re-organized in all quarters, and on the way to power.Believe meantime in the affectionate esteem of yourGiuseppe Mazzini.B.4 York Buildings, King’s Road, Chelsea.? 1841.My dear Signore Rossetti,I have managed with Vantini through a different method; anyhow, I thank you for the intention, and for what you did for my client.If you will send an order to Rolandi to deliver, to some one on my behalf, a certain number of copies of your booklet, I will send them, four days hence, by an opportunity to Spain. At present I have no opportunity as to Switzerland, but I have correspondents there; and, were the chance to present itself to you sooner than to me, address to Signor Fanciola, Postmaster at Locarno (Ticino) for “Signor Pietro Ol——”; and the copies will be distributed in accordance with your intentions.I have promised to send to a friend in New York the copy of the Papal Excommunication of Carbonarism—launched, I think, in 1820. Do you happen to know where I could find it?I am aware of your circumstances;[93]but what is requestedof you would be no more than the influence of your name among the Italians who know you. The object is to have you as our brother in our Association, so that to any inquirer one could say—“All those who truly love the cause of their country have comprehended that unity of country cannot be founded without unity of association.” There would be a slight monthly contribution fixed by yourself; there would be (and this is the most serious condition, but, as you will see, inevitable) the certainty that, in writing about our country, you would leave off recommending monarchic constitutionalism, and repeat with us: “May God and the People be the salvation of Italy!” And these, for us who are abroad, are about the only conditions of the Association. For the rest, I believe that a copy of ourGeneral Instruction, given to you by Pistrucci, has remained in your hands. The whole of our thought is there expressed; and, if one day you feel able to say “I accept it and make it mine,” you will be received by us with joy and sincere brotherliness.Meanwhile good-bye, and believe meYours,Giuseppe Mazzini.If you like, you should place at my disposal a certain number of copies for Marseilles, and for Italy in that direction; I will provide for their reaching.C.London.?November 1844.My dear Signor Rossetti,I transcribe verbatim a letter that I have received.“To Signori Rossetti, Pepoli,[94]and Mazzini. A Special Committee chosen by the Italian Working-men begs you to come together on Sunday 4th December 1844, at the hour and place most convenient to yourselves, to receive a communication of high importance; and, in the confidence that you will grant us this favour, we thank you meanwhile. The members of the aforesaid Committee—Odoardo Villani, G. B. Soldi, A. Berni, Giuseppe Gandolfini.”I don’t know anything about the object of the meeting. I know the four signatories, and they are good worthy Italians. In the impossibility, for lack of time, of corresponding as to hour and place, I take the liberty of fixing for the meeting my house, between 1 and 2P.M.I am notifying to Pepoli and to them. Try and come if you can; or, if perchance you cannot, write so as to relieve me of responsibility.Believe me alwaysYours,Giuseppe Mazzini.D.4 York Buildings, Chelsea.?May 1845.My dear Signor Rossetti,We have decided to have on an early day in June a concert for the benefit of the school; Pistrucci, I suppose, will give you all the particulars of the project, or I will give them myself. You will then see howfar and in what way you may be able to aid towards a good result. But meanwhile I have to beg you urgently for one thing. I have a letter of introduction to Miss Kemble,[95]and I want to request her to sing: singing for a school is quite a different thing from singing in a theatre. I know that she at one time asked Giannone[96]for a letter to you, and that you saw her. I don’t know on what terms you have remained with her, but, knowingyou, I presume good terms. Could you add a letter to the one which I hold? or could you join me in a visit? or, if nothing else, write to her on your own part?—and, in this last case, on Monday or Tuesday. Thus assailed at one moment from two sides, she would perhaps surrender.Whatever you decide, please oblige me with a couple of words in reply, and with the lady’s present address,[97]if you can give this.Wish me well, and believe meYour very affectionateGiuseppe Mazzini.E.108 High Holborn.31st October 1845.My dear Signor Rossetti,Pistrucci told me that he would undertake to beg you to allow your voice to be heard, in one way or other, at the Anniversary of our School, 10th November.[98]Still, I will join to his my poor request. The fact of the School is an Italian fact; and it ought, even with a view to the English, to have the moral support of all Italians who, like yourself, do honour to the name of our common country.Confiding in your willingness to hearken to our request, believe, dear Signor Rossetti, in the full friendly esteem ofYours,Giuseppe Mazzini.F.19 Cropley Street, New North Road.[?January 1847].Very dear Signor Rossetti,An opportunity has arisen. Will you give the MS. to the bearer? He will be leaving to-morrow, or at latest on Tuesday.I thank you for your good wishes for the year now commenced; but I have no hope of joy, save one alone—that of bearing witness in death, as I have endeavoured to do in life, to my Italian faith. Pray that this may occur within this year, and believe me alwaysYour much attachedGiuseppe Mazzini.G.19 Cropley Street, New North Road.[?January 1847].My dear Signor Rossetti,The Manuscript has gone off—not anything else. Ricciardi, Janer, Pistrucci, will have patience, and await other opportunities which I shall have towardsthe end of the month. We cannot, for exhortations and sonnets, be guilty of an indiscretion towards English travellers, who consider they have stretched a point if they accept letters, and are quite capable of throwing in your face a “Why not employ a bookseller?”—which I should not like. However, I undertake, for love of you, to get all the things off, but distributing them among various travellers. A slight delay will not spoil matters; nor will the exhortations to return to Paris accelerate to any great extent the progress of French civilization.I was unable to charge my traveller—an Englishman, young, and an officer—with the eight shillings, for he would probably have forgotten them. But I have written that you had given them to me, to be paid to Ricciardi—and probably they will be paid one of these days.Believe me, with all esteem,Your much attachedGiuseppe Mazzini.H.17 Cropley Street, New North Road.8th February[1847].My dear Signor Rossetti,To your MS. has happened what often happens to our Italian affairs: in trying to do good, one does harm. If we had waited patiently for that Italian traveller of mine of the 24th January, the MS. would at this date be in Paris. But, urged on by my own wishes, and also by the strong pressure, I seized the opportunity of an Englishman, Captain Boulton, and consigned the volume to him. He, as he said, was to leave on the following day.And, knowing nothing to the contrary, I supposed him to have departed, in fact; until, five or six days ago, becoming suspicious from the silence of my correspondents, and making active quest for the officer, I found that owing to some family incident or other he had deferred his departure, and had indeed gone off to the country—whence he writes that he will be leaving in seven days!!You should, therefore, be under no alarm for the MS. Like yourself, I regret the delay, but it is not my fault. If, earlier than the seven days, I get an opportunity, I will see that the MS. goes off before the officer; if not, not.I felt anxious to reply to you about the MS., as the matter of most importance. As to Ricciardi’s eight copies, please inform Ricciardi that one can’t tell a tourist, “Take with you a boxful of things”; that it is a miracle if I found some one to convey the eight; that, sooner or later, I shall find some one to convey the others; and that moreover I would not have undertaken, except for wishing to do a service to you whom I greatly esteem, to send off either the eight or the sixteen. Neither would I set going from Paris to London, and then from London to Paris, copies of my own performances, but would order them to be burned or given away.And believe me everYour much attached and affectionateGiuseppe Mazzini.I.19 Cropley Street, New North Road.?May 1847.Dear Signor Rossetti,I cannot succeed in the endeavour. Among the leading newspapers, I had no hope save in theMorningChronicle, and this one declines. The quantity of matter, electoral movements, literary articles already promised, etc., form the pretext. The true reason, I think, is that the apotheosis of Napoleon has no grateful sound to English reminiscences. Besides, a short paragraph upon the celebration of the 6th[99]had already received insertion in several journals when your letter arrived, and they are not fond of repetitions.For myself, I, as you know, do not believe in King nor in Pope: I believe in God and in ourselves. They may do what they choose, and try to compromise Charles Albert[100]in the face of Austria by every means: the rabbit will not be changed into a lion. I say rabbit, and might say fox. To celebrate Marengo, a battle won by an Italian but in the name and under the banner of the French nation, while we have the Austrians our masters two paces off, savours to me of bragging rather than of patriotism. I see these demonstrations with pleasure, because they furnish an occasion for impressing on the people, who know not, the name of Italy, and that of her oppressors; but, as an individual, I feel inclined to smile with a trifle of bitterness. In Piedmont the rabbit is now in the vein of reaction; and not only the suppression of the subscription,[101]but that of the Family-readings conceded to the Jesuits, and other recent acts, speak clearly enough. However, we shall see.I keep the letter for another two days, for a final endeavour; afterwards, I shall return it to you. Meanwhile believe me alwaysYour much attached and affectionateGiuseppe Mazzini.J.[The reference to Ricciardi’s book follows on more or less from what appears in two previous letters. The book may possibly have been a predictiveHistory of Italy from 1850 to 1900, which was published in 1842. This letter, written in the great year of European revolutions, 1848, belongs, I suppose, to a very early date in that year; perhaps prior to the insurrection in Paris, which began on 23rd February. There had been some disturbances in Milan on 3rd January, and a rising in Messina from 6th January. On 22nd February martial law was proclaimed in Lombardy by the Austrians.]19 Cropley Street, New North Road.?February 1848.My dear Signor Rossetti,I send you by Parcels Delivery Company ten copies of Ricciardi’s book, admiring our friend’s tenacity of memory, especially in this time of events. These are the only copies that I find in my possession. If Ihada larger number, the Italian friends who during the long interval have been frequenting my house must have appropriated them with no great ceremony, much as they appropriate my own books. None the less, if ever Ricciardi were to complain, I declare myself ready to pay the expense of thecopies deficient. I ought to have been on the watch, but that is not my habit.The affairs of Italy are going and will go on their right course—that is, to the expulsion of the Austrians from the Lombardo-Venetian territory. The Sicilian insurrection has done more for the Italian cause, in a few days of popular action, than two years of petitioning.Believe me alwaysYour much attachedGiuseppe Mazzini.K.19 Cropley Street, New North Road.?November 1848.My dear Signor Rossetti,Here is the Address which we sent to the Swiss Diet. I will add that a discussion on military capitulations was in consequence started in the Diet by the Ticino and the Bas-Valais; a discussion which, as befalls everything important in that Central (not Government but) mis-Government, was not settled, but held over (as they say)ad referendum.Make any use of me that I can manage, and believe me alwaysYour much attachedGiuseppe Mazzini.L.To “Corso”Brother,I have received yours of the 8th. That I should write to you at much length on the subject of yourletter is not possible. You, however, will certainly not suppose that I evade the discussion, nor that I do not set a right value on your convictions, or do not care about them. No indeed; and you are mistaken in fancying that your frankness of speech could ever offend me. If you but knew how the religion of truth is the religion for me! and how much any real conviction inspires me with respect, if not assent! But this is not a question to be disposed of in a few letters; nor have I time, beset as I am by a thousand distractions through my dream of Italian initiative, to enter on a discussion. And, if I ever have time, I shall compose, I confess to you, a whole volume—but I shall never publish it, unless a Republican revolution should have broken out. For the present, I understand this latest reaction in favour of Christianity, and I see it to be necessary, and acknowledge it as useful. A true knowledge of Christianity—its nature, its mission—will follow from this study. Just as, in my view,reformmust naturally precede the securing of independence, liberty, and equality, in political dogma, so do I believe that the political synthesis, or at any rate a glimpse of this synthesis, must, in the new epoch, precede in renovated Europe the manifestation of the religious synthesis of the epoch. Rights were of yore individual; and it was natural that first theindividualshould be emancipated, that theinstrumentshould be formed to acquire an application of those rights in the political department. At the present time the reverse is the case. The question is that of thesocialsynthesis. Theinstrumentis no longer theindividual, but the people. Therefore the people, which is to secure the religious formula, requires to beconstituted: therefore a political revolution before the religious one.Only, you know what I have always said: like advancedscouts, secret sentinels of human nature,intelligencesmust begin to proclaim that they descry thenew landsand the new law. And therefore I should have supposed you to be among them; and I still believe that you will be among them later on. Meanwhile, as you think that my efforts (and be it observed that I am doing nothing) are to subserve the triumph of Christianity, so do I think that yours are to subserve the triumph of the new synthesis, thesocialsynthesis, philosophy merged into religion: because—I do not deny it—my “harmonized dualism” is precisely this harmonizing of philosophy with religion—two things which hitherto have been at odds, and which will end by coalescing. Yours is, without your perceiving it, an eclecticism and no more. Yourquid tertium, neithercatholicnorprimitive(two distinctions as to which I should have much to say), is an Utopia, or rather a chimera. You don’t perceive that that which you callprimitiveis at bottom nothing except Christianity in the soul, not any social form; that the second epoch—i.e.Catholicism—is rightly the application of Christianity to society; and that the Reformation—a cynical movement, whatever you may say about it—came, in fact, to say of Christianity: “You are not susceptible of any social application, of any national unity, because you are an individualistic formula and no more: stay you in your proper sphere.”You and I, I perceive, regard the Reformation, and all things, from different points of view.And now see what is the outcome of the idea, “Christianity is aneternalreligion, an unique religious synthesis.” And what of mankind prior to Christianity? Oh in what sense do you understand God, if you admit that He gave the unique eternal synthesis some thousands of years after the race had been created? And the unity of the mind of God? Aprogressive law at the beginning, and an eternal synthesis later on? But no more of this; you go too far. Believing as I do, with yourself, in continuous progression, there ought to be between us only a question of time, but never a denial of a new synthesis when the time comes.Christianity asserts its perfection and eternity as a fundamental principle: therefore you cannot, without destroying it, say that it is not the whole of truth.But once again, no more of this. Christianity had to profess itself perfect and eternal, and I even admit that. But when did Christianity ever affect to be a social religion?Thatis the question. Christianity is the formula of the individual, and as such is eternal and perfect to my thinking—for that formula is what no one can nullify. It means liberty and equality; and who can ever henceforth exclude those two bases of progress from the progress of the future? Christianity therefore will endure. Only, behind that formula one seeks for another—the social. Where is the contradiction?Tell me, my Corso, with your hand on your heart. To the arguments which I scatter in my letters, hurried, unconnected, and almost sportive, the true fruit of profound convictions, and which you (permit me to say) shirk a little in your replies, have you anything to oppose? Do not some of the things which I say, if you think them over seriously, cast some doubts on your mind?As to what you cite to me, regarding miracles, and the resurrection of Christ, etc., I will not discuss to-day; but I confess to you, it seems to me strange that you should regard those as being irrevocably proved in history.I say it seriously, some one will come to furbish up my ideas, without knowing that I advocated them. I am more than likely to die without doing this, because I am consciousof my mission, and I know the duration of it—and I know that it is not I who will wage the war. Truth means to run her course, and she will do it; but I shall not lay the foundation-stone of the edifice—I have no future. I have discerned, but it is not given to me to do more; therefore I still devote these my days to a work very inferior to that which my longings would have sought for—the actual production of the instrument. I am neither more nor less than a political revolutionist, and to this I resign myself. Would that I may at least be that, and wrench this Italy that I love out of the mire in which she lies, set her freed face to face with her destinies, and say to her, “Now make them yours.”As you see, I am writing to Gioberti. Writing thus to all and sundry begins to weigh upon me. I have moments ofspleen, of individualism which rebels; and at those moments I seem to myself to be playing the prostitute, and making Italian liberty play the like part. For if you but knew how many letters, and these to intellects so-called, and all useless! But these are moments of irritation, arising out of what I have myself been suffering these three years, and this is more than you suppose, and you know it not, and never will know it. Then I return to myself; and, where I can see any little advantage, any symptom of duty, I submit and write.Hand also the enclosed lines to Tommaseo, who, like others, does not understand me, and does not understand the situation in which we are.Have you seen Libri? You will tell me that I am pertinacious; this is true. But all those who desert me, without any fault of mine against them, and without my being even able to guess the reason, cause me real pain.If you know Malmusi, or can get at any one who knows him, don’t forget to tell him that for the love of God he should reassure me concerning the arrival of certain letters of mine: his silence troubles me.Of politics I say nothing, as I do not mean to speak about them until the first half of the month of October; then I shall have data from which to speak. Meanwhile I repeat to you what I told you.Did you ever see Buonarroti? Do you know where Bianco is? Of him I know nothing of late, and I am anxious to write to him. Do they ever write to you from Turin? What Italians are you acquainted with? Bozzelli?Wish well to yourStrozzi.Put an envelope on the letter to Gioberti. Write to me what reception he gives it. Pray excuse.[102]No. 5.—Six Poems by Gabriele Rossetti[I give here six specimens of my father’s powers as a poet. Setting asideSan Paolo in Malta, which is only an improvise, it may be said that in all these instances the verses rank among his choice things; though many others could be quoted not inferior. The dates which I give may be regarded as correct, unless as to the final sonnet, regarding which I am uncertain.The lyric,Aurora del 21 Luglio del 1820, was, as I have before said, extremely celebrated in its time; and theAddioalla Patriahas always been an admired piece. TheSan Paolo in Maltais referred to at p. 61, and testifies to Rossetti’s uncommon power as an Improvisatore; being as it is interza rima, each rhyme is triplicated, and thus the improvising effort was all the more arduous.I leave these poems to the perusal of such readers as are acquainted with Italian. To try to translate them would be little else than to scheme deliberately to spoil them.]A.Ad AmoreAlato bambino,Tiranno de’ cuori,Ch’io segua il camminoChe innanzi m’infiori?Unendomi tecoCh’io veggio sì cieco,Oh quanto sareiPiù cieco di te!Pur troppo gemei,Fanciullo inumano!Ma i lacci funestiChe al piè mi cingestiDel Tempo la manoMi sciolse dal piè.A credulo cuoreTu scaltro dispensiContento ed ardoreChe inebbriano i sensi:Ma in mezzo al contentoPrepari il tormento;L’ardor ti precede,Ti segue il languor.Nè l’alma si avvedeDel passo imprudenteChe quando a fuggireLe manca l’ardire,Che quando si senteGià vinta dal cuor.Quel dì che sul mondoVagisti bambino,Un cenno iracondoDel sordo DestinoDi face feraleLa destra immortaleDi penne funesteIl dorso ti armò.Le penne son queste,O nume fallace,Che a Pari infedeleGonfiaron le vele,E questa è la faceChe Troia bruciò.Tu godi, o tiranno,Di sparger la terraDi gioia, d’affanno,Di pace, di guerra;Ma finta è la pace,La guerra è verace,L’affanno rimane,La gioia sen va.Insidie sì straneCi ordisci, ci tendi,Che a render prigioneL’augusta Ragione,Tuoi complici rendiIngegno e Beltà.Chi crede a’ tuoi dettiNe attenda la fine;Le rose promettiPer dargli le spine:Ben sento che giovaSaperlo per prova;Ma troppo al mio cuoreTal prova costò.La via del doloreIo teco calcava;Ma in mezzo del corsoIntesi il RimorsoCheferma, gridava,Ma tardi gridò.Quel giorno che il veloMi cadde dal ciglio,Rimasi di geloScorgendo il periglio:Sul velo squarciato,Sul laccio spezzato,Il canto innalzaiDi mia libertà.Ah libero omaiDal giogo abborrito,Sull’ara tua stessaCrollata, depressa,Innalzo pentitoL’altar d’Amistà.1813.B.Versi d’AmoreDal tuo leggiadro visoIl mio destin dipende:D’ugual desio mi accendeIl tuo desio.Dal labbro tuo soltantoHa questo labbro il riso:Ha dal tuo ciglio il piantoIl ciglio mio.1814.C.Aurora del 21 Luglio del 1820Sei pur bella cogli astri sul crineChe scintillan quai vivi zaffiri,È pur dolce quel fiato che spiri,Porporina foriera del dì.Col sorriso del pago desioTu ci annunzii dal balzo vicinoChe d’Italia nell’almo giardinoIl servaggio per sempre finì.Il rampollo d’Enrico e di Carlo,Ei ch’ad ambo cotanto somiglia,Oggi estese la propria famiglia,E non servi ma figli bramò.Volontario distese la manoSul volume de’ patti segnati;E il volume de’ patti giuratiDella patria sull’ara posò.Una selva di lance si scosseAll’invito del bellico squillo,Ed all’ombra del sacro vessilloUn sol voto discorde non fù.E fratelli si strinser le mani,Dauno, Irpino, Lucano, Sannita;Non estinta ma solo sopitaEra in essi l’antica virtù.Ma qual suono di trombe festive!Chi s’avanza fra cento coorti?Ecco il forte che riede tra i forti,[103]Che la patria congiunse col re!Oh qual pompa! Le armate falangiSembran fiumi che inondin le strade!Ma su tante migliaia di spadeUna macchia di sangue non v’è.Lieta scena! Chi plaude, chi piange,Chi diffonde vïole e giacinti,Vincitori confusi coi vintiAvvicendano il bacio d’amor!Dalla reggia passando al tugurioNon più finta la gioia festeggia;Dal tugurio tornando alla reggiaQuella gioia si rende maggior.Genitrici de’ forti campioniConvocati dal sacro stendardo,Che cercate col pavido sguardo?Non temete, chè tutti son quì.Non ritornan da terra nemica,Istrumenti di regio misfatto,Ma dal campo del vostro riscatto,Dove il ramo di pace fiorì.O beata fra tante donzelle,O beata la ninfa che vedeFra que’ prodi l’amante che riedeTutto sparso di nobil sudor!Il segreto dell’alma pudicaLe si affaccia sul volto rosato,Ed il premio finora negatoLa bellezza prepara al valor.Cittadini, posiamo sicuriSotto l’ombra de’ lauri mietuti,Ma coi pugni sui brandi temutiStiamo in guardia del patrio terren.Nella pace prepara la guerraChi da saggio previene lo stolto:Ci sorrida la pace sul volto,Ma ci frema la guerra nel sen.Che guardate, gelosi stranieri?Non uscite dai vostri burroni,Chè la stirpe dei prischi leoniPiù nel sonno languente non è.Adorate le vostre catene;Chi v’invidia cotanto tesoro?Ma lasciate tranquilli coloroChe disdegnan sentirsele al piè.Se verrete, le vostre consorti,Imprecando ai vessilli funesti,Si preparin le funebri vesti,Chè speranza per esse non v’ha.Sazierete la fame de’ corvi,Mercenarie falangi di schiavi;In chi pugna pe’ dritti degli aviDivien cruda la stessa pietà.Una spada di libera manoÈ saetta di Giove tonante,Ma nel pugno di servo tremanteCome canna vacilla l’acciar.Fia trionfo la morte per noi,Fia ruggito l’estremo sospiro;Le migliaia di Persia fuggiro,I trecento di Sparta restâr!E restaron coi brandi ne’ pugniSopra mucchi di corpi svenati,E que’ pugni, quantunque gelati,Rassembravan disposti a ferir.Quello sdegno passava nel figlioCui fù culla lo scudo del padre,Ed al figlio diceva la madre,“Quest’esempio tu devi seguir.”O tutrice dei dritti dell’uomo,Che sorridi sul giogo spezzato,È pur giunto quel giorno beatoChe un monarca t’innalza l’altar!Tu sul Tebro fumante di sanguePasseggiavi qual nembo fremente,Ma serena qual’alba ridenteSul Sebeto t’assidi a regnar.Una larva col santo tuo nomeQuì sen venne con alta promessa;Noi, credendo che fossi tu stessa,Adorammo la larva di te:Ma, nel mentre fra gl’inni usurpatiSfavillava di luce fallace,Ella sparve qual sogno fugace,Le catene lasciandoci al piè.Alla fine tu stessa venistiNon ombrata da minimo velo,Ed un raggio disceso dal cieloSulla fronte ti veggio brillar.Coronata di gigli perenni,Alla terra servendo d’esempio,Tu scegliesti la reggia per tempio,Ove il trono ti serve d’altar.1820.D.Addio alla PatriaNella notte più serenaEra in ciel la luna piena:Neve il dorso e fiamma il crinRiflettea dal mar vicinIl Vesèvo che grandeggiaCome reggia—di Vulcan:D’arme grave—anglica naveTrascorrea l’equoreo pian.Quando il profugo cantore,La cui colpa è il patrio amore,Atteggiato di martir,Schiuse il labbro ad un sospirE qual flebile usignuolo,Il suo duolo—a disfogar,Dal naviglio—volse il ciglioLa sua terra a salutar.O Partenope, egli dice,O Partenope infelice,Di tua gloria il chiaro dìQuasi al nascere morì!Ah dal cor t’indrizzo i carmiNel sottrarmi—a reo poter,E nel bando—miserandoSarai sempre il mio pensier!Rè fellon che ci tradisti,Tu rapisci e non racquisti:Maledetto, o rè fellon,Sii dall’austro all’aquilon!Maledetto ogni malnatoChe ha tramato—insiem con te!Maledetto—ogni soggettoChe ti lambe il sozzo piè!Ti sien contro in ogni locoCielo e terra, mare e foco,Nè dien tregua a un infedelFoco e mare, terra e ciel!Sì, ti faccian sempre guerraCielo e terra—foco e mar!Ti stia scritto—il tuo delittoSulla mensa e sull’altar!Traditor, da quel momentoChe infrangesti il giuramento,Cento stili, o traditor,Tendon’ avidi al tuo cor...Deh frenate il santo sdegno,Non n’è degno—un cor brutal,E saetta—di vendettaTenga il luogo del pugnal!Che pel fulmine di DioDe’ suoi falli ei paghi il fio,Ma di Bruto il sacro stilOnorar non dee quel vil!No, non abbia il vil la gloriaChe la storia—dica un dì:Il nefando—FerdinandoCome Cesare perì!Mesta Italia, io ti saluto:Qual momento hai tu perduto!Quel momento, o Dio, chi sàSe mai più ritornerà?Già sorgea ringiovanitaL’impigrita—tua virtù...Come mai—tornar potraiAl languor di servitù?Deh perchè non farla, o Sorte,O men bella, o almen più forte?L’astringesti ad invocarLo straniero infido acciar,Onde o vinta o vincitriceL’infelice—ognor servì,E impugnando—estraneo brandoSè medesma ognor ferì.Ah crudel, se a questa terraFar volevi eterna guerra,Perchè darle poi, crudel,Questo suolo e questo ciel?Quì le vergini di GioveTutte e nove—apriro il vol,Quì sfavilla—la scintillaChe Prometeo tolse al sol.Surse quì la face aurataSull’Europa ottenebrata,E l’Europa a quel fulgorSi scotea dal suo torpor.Cento doti, Italia bella,Lieta stella—a te largì;Ahi t’invola—quella solaChe ti fea regina un dì!Libertà, tu fuggi? Ed io...Io ti seguo; Italia, addio!Libertà, non mai da te,Mai non fia ch’io torca il piè!Oh se un dì farai ritorno,In quel giorno—anch’io verrò;Ma infelice—il cor mi diceChe mai più non tornerò!Sì dicea; ma l’igneo monteDecrescea nell’orizzonte,E la luna in mezzo al cielS’era ascosa in grigio vel.Par che stia con veste oscuraLa Natura—a dolorar,Par lamento—il flebil vento,Par singulto il rotto mar.Addio, terra sventurata!...Ma la terra era celata.Ei nel duol che l’aggravòChinò ’l capo e singhiozzò.Ahi l’amor della sua terra,Ahi qual guerra—in sen gli fà!Infelice!—il cor gli diceChe mai più non tornerà!24 Giugno 1821.

1st February 1842.My very dear Sir,... Have you ever readLe Livre Mystiqueof De Balzac, a living French author—a book published in 1836? Read it, for it is truly curious. It is divided into three parts, and expounds mysticism in mystic language, somewhat less obscure than in the ancient works of like kind. In the first part he introduces a certain Louis Lambert as expounder of mysticism; in the second he introduces Dante at the school of Sigier in Paris, “al Vico degli Strami, Sillogizzando invidiosi veri”:[90]in the third he introduces a nephew of Swedenborg,female and male, a fantastic and changeful being, Seraphita-Seraphitus; and she-and-he expresses herself in terms fit to set the soundest head in a whirl,—and says among other things: “L’union qui se fait d’unesprit d’amouret d’unesprit de sagessemet la créature à l’étatdivin, pendant que son âme estfemmeet que son corps esthomme; dernière expression humaine où l’esprit l’emporte sur la forme, et la forme se débat encore contre l’esprit divin.... Ainsile naturel(état dans lequel sont les êtres non régénérés),le spirituel(état dans lequel sont les esprits angéliques), etledivin(état dans lequel demeure l’ange avant de briser son enveloppe), sontles trois degrésde l’exister par lesquels l’homme parvient au ciel.” (Vol. II. p. 102.) And so on to a large extent. What seems to me most noticeable is to see Dante and Swedenborg put on the same footing. And Reghellini says plainly that Dante was a Freemason (videVol. III. pp. 48, 49). And Ragon affirms the same (pp. 290-332)....Your most attachedG. Rossetti.

1st February 1842.

My very dear Sir,

... Have you ever readLe Livre Mystiqueof De Balzac, a living French author—a book published in 1836? Read it, for it is truly curious. It is divided into three parts, and expounds mysticism in mystic language, somewhat less obscure than in the ancient works of like kind. In the first part he introduces a certain Louis Lambert as expounder of mysticism; in the second he introduces Dante at the school of Sigier in Paris, “al Vico degli Strami, Sillogizzando invidiosi veri”:[90]in the third he introduces a nephew of Swedenborg,female and male, a fantastic and changeful being, Seraphita-Seraphitus; and she-and-he expresses herself in terms fit to set the soundest head in a whirl,—and says among other things: “L’union qui se fait d’unesprit d’amouret d’unesprit de sagessemet la créature à l’étatdivin, pendant que son âme estfemmeet que son corps esthomme; dernière expression humaine où l’esprit l’emporte sur la forme, et la forme se débat encore contre l’esprit divin.... Ainsile naturel(état dans lequel sont les êtres non régénérés),le spirituel(état dans lequel sont les esprits angéliques), etledivin(état dans lequel demeure l’ange avant de briser son enveloppe), sontles trois degrésde l’exister par lesquels l’homme parvient au ciel.” (Vol. II. p. 102.) And so on to a large extent. What seems to me most noticeable is to see Dante and Swedenborg put on the same footing. And Reghellini says plainly that Dante was a Freemason (videVol. III. pp. 48, 49). And Ragon affirms the same (pp. 290-332)....

Your most attached

G. Rossetti.

No. 3.—From Three Letters from Seymour [Barone] Kirkup to Gabriele Rossetti

[Mr Seymour Kirkup, an English painter and man of letters established in Florence, became an enthusiastic adherent to Rossetti’s scheme of Dantesque interpretation, from reading his Comment on theInfernoand hisSpirito Antipapale. In his later years he was made a Barone of the Italian Kingdom, and he died at a great age towards 1880. The following extracts relate chiefly to the deeply interesting discovery, in which he bore a very principal part, of the portrait of Dante by Giotto in the Chapel of the Podestà, in the Bargello of Florence.]

Florence,12th September 1840.My very excellent Friend,Yours of the 22nd July came safe with the Sonnet, “O della mente eterna immago e prole.” It is verybeautiful. It is capital. Let me thank you very sincerely, and let me congratulate you on Germany being about to enjoy the benefit of your invaluable discoveries. Every new country is a triumph of your cause; and, whilst all Europe will be benefiting by your genius and learning, Italy alone remains without an Italian edition of the original Italian work on the great luminary of Italy and of the world. In Florence there are too many obstacles: the priests, and the antiquated routine imbecility of the Crusca. The word-mongers are all envious. They are true bran, and well sifted from the fior di pensieri. They are old, and find your success a reproach, and in this country all hue and cry raised against innovation is supported by force. The tone of the court and the police is carried into the Academies. Well may you say “L’Italia invidia omai fin la Turchia.”I have delayed writing in the hopes of sending you a sketch which will interest you, but I have hitherto been disappointed. We have made a discovery of an original portrait of Dante in fresco by Giotto! Although I was a magna pars in this undertaking, the Jacks in Office have not allowed me yet to make a copy. Sono tanto gelosi, most likely afraid I should publish it and prevent some friends of their own reaping all the profit they hope from that speculation.I was the person who first mentioned to Sig. Bezzi, a Piedmontese and friend of Carlo Eastlake’s, the existence of the portrait under the whitewash of three centuries. We were joined by an American, and we three undertook at our expense to employ a restorer to uncover the walls of the old chapel in the palace of the Podestà in search of the portrait—mentioned by F. Villani, Filelfo, L. Aretino, Vasari, Cinelli, etc. Nothing but the constancy and talent of Sig. Bezzi could have overcome the numberless obstacles and refusalswe met with. He wrote and spoke with the persuasions of an advocate, and persevered with the obstinacy and activity of an Englishman (which I believe he now is). He alone was the cause of success. We should have had no chance without him. At last, after uncovering enough of three walls to ascertain it was not there, the Government took the task into their own hands, on our terms, with the same restorer, and in the fifth wall they have succeeded. The number of walls is six, for the chapel has been divided in two—(magazines of wine, oil, bread, etc., for the prisoners).The precise date of the painting is not known. The poet looks about 28—very handsome—un Apollo colle fattezze di Dante. The expression and character are worthy of the subject, and much beyond what I expected from Giotto. Raphael might own it with honour. Add to which it is not the mask of a corpse of 56—a ruin—but a fine, noble image of the Hero of Campaldino, the Lover of Beatrice. The costume very interesting—no beard or even a lock of hair.A white cap, over which a white capuccio, lined with dark red showing the edge turned back. A parchment book under his arm—perhaps the Vita Nuova.It is in a group of many others—one seems Charles II. of Naples. Brunetto Latini and Corso Donati are mentioned by the old authors.I send herewith a pamphlet by Prof. Nannucci—very curious and very interesting respecting Dante—and a dose for the Crusca.I wrote to you by Mr Craufurd, who took charge of the medal, and sent two pamphlets by him, one for Mr Taylor—and two letters of thanks, one to him and one to Mr Lyell; but I fear by what you say in your last letter you have never received them. Mr C[raufurd] is a friend of Eastlake’s, whocan perhaps get them for you. I liked Mr Taylor’s book[91]very much indeed, and am very grateful to you and him.Yours most sincerely,Seymour Kirkup.

Florence,12th September 1840.

My very excellent Friend,

Yours of the 22nd July came safe with the Sonnet, “O della mente eterna immago e prole.” It is verybeautiful. It is capital. Let me thank you very sincerely, and let me congratulate you on Germany being about to enjoy the benefit of your invaluable discoveries. Every new country is a triumph of your cause; and, whilst all Europe will be benefiting by your genius and learning, Italy alone remains without an Italian edition of the original Italian work on the great luminary of Italy and of the world. In Florence there are too many obstacles: the priests, and the antiquated routine imbecility of the Crusca. The word-mongers are all envious. They are true bran, and well sifted from the fior di pensieri. They are old, and find your success a reproach, and in this country all hue and cry raised against innovation is supported by force. The tone of the court and the police is carried into the Academies. Well may you say “L’Italia invidia omai fin la Turchia.”

I have delayed writing in the hopes of sending you a sketch which will interest you, but I have hitherto been disappointed. We have made a discovery of an original portrait of Dante in fresco by Giotto! Although I was a magna pars in this undertaking, the Jacks in Office have not allowed me yet to make a copy. Sono tanto gelosi, most likely afraid I should publish it and prevent some friends of their own reaping all the profit they hope from that speculation.

I was the person who first mentioned to Sig. Bezzi, a Piedmontese and friend of Carlo Eastlake’s, the existence of the portrait under the whitewash of three centuries. We were joined by an American, and we three undertook at our expense to employ a restorer to uncover the walls of the old chapel in the palace of the Podestà in search of the portrait—mentioned by F. Villani, Filelfo, L. Aretino, Vasari, Cinelli, etc. Nothing but the constancy and talent of Sig. Bezzi could have overcome the numberless obstacles and refusalswe met with. He wrote and spoke with the persuasions of an advocate, and persevered with the obstinacy and activity of an Englishman (which I believe he now is). He alone was the cause of success. We should have had no chance without him. At last, after uncovering enough of three walls to ascertain it was not there, the Government took the task into their own hands, on our terms, with the same restorer, and in the fifth wall they have succeeded. The number of walls is six, for the chapel has been divided in two—(magazines of wine, oil, bread, etc., for the prisoners).

The precise date of the painting is not known. The poet looks about 28—very handsome—un Apollo colle fattezze di Dante. The expression and character are worthy of the subject, and much beyond what I expected from Giotto. Raphael might own it with honour. Add to which it is not the mask of a corpse of 56—a ruin—but a fine, noble image of the Hero of Campaldino, the Lover of Beatrice. The costume very interesting—no beard or even a lock of hair.

A white cap, over which a white capuccio, lined with dark red showing the edge turned back. A parchment book under his arm—perhaps the Vita Nuova.

It is in a group of many others—one seems Charles II. of Naples. Brunetto Latini and Corso Donati are mentioned by the old authors.

I send herewith a pamphlet by Prof. Nannucci—very curious and very interesting respecting Dante—and a dose for the Crusca.

I wrote to you by Mr Craufurd, who took charge of the medal, and sent two pamphlets by him, one for Mr Taylor—and two letters of thanks, one to him and one to Mr Lyell; but I fear by what you say in your last letter you have never received them. Mr C[raufurd] is a friend of Eastlake’s, whocan perhaps get them for you. I liked Mr Taylor’s book[91]very much indeed, and am very grateful to you and him.

Yours most sincerely,

Seymour Kirkup.

Florence,14th September 1841.My dear Friend,By the time you receive this, I hope that the portrait of Dante, for you, will be in London.The gentleman who has taken charge of it was in such haste to leave the country (from the consequences of a fatal duel) that I had not an opportunity for writing.You will receive, in fact, three portraits. They are as follows:—No. 1. A drawing in chalk, on light-brown paper, of the face as large as the original. I had intended to write a memorandum on it, but in my hurry it was forgotten. Perhaps you would have the kindness to add it, if you think it worth while—viz.“Drawn by S. K., and traced with talc, on the original fresco by Giotto; discovered in the Chapel of the Palazzo del Podestà, Florence, on the 21st July 1840, before it was retouched.”No. 2. A small sketch in water-colours, giving the colours of the dress, and the heads supposed to be of Corso Donati and Brunetto Latini.No. 3. A Lithography by the painter and restorer Marini,who uncovered the painting. This is made on a tracing by himself.I thought it useful to send you these in order to give you a better idea of this very interesting discovery—Dante, under 30 years of age. With respect to No. 1, it is fixed with glue-water, and will not rub out with common usage. The only thing it is liable to is the cracking or bending of the paper, which sometimes in a face alters the expression.Since I drew it, I have had the mortification to see the original retouched, and its beauty destroyed. You will perceive that the eye is wanting. A deep hole in the wall was found exactly on that spot, as if done on purpose. It was necessary to fill it that it might not extend further: not content, they ordered Sig. Marini to paint the eye on it, and he has daubed over the face in many parts, to the ruin of its expression and character. It is now 15 years older, a mean, pinched expression, and an effeminate character, compared to what it was. It is not quite so bad as the lithography I send you, but not far from it. When I saw what was done, I asked a young man, his assistant, if it was done with colours in tempera, and he assured me, with a boast, that it was in bon fresco. If so, Dante is gone for good. But I have still hopes that he spoke only of the eye, and many of my friends think it can only be accomplished on the old and hard painting by some distemper-colour of glue, size, or egg; and, if so, a damp cloth fixed on it for half-an-hour will bring it all away without injuring the original fresco. I mean to take my time, and perhaps some day I may restore Dante to himself a second time. I had the principal part in the late discovery.The lithography I send you is exceedingly unlike and incorrect, although a tracing. In shading and finishing hehas totally lost and changed the outline, if he ever had it. It is vulgar, old, and effeminate—the contrary in every respect to the original. The Florentines of to-day cannot draw, nor even trace. Think of what such a hand would do, if allowed to paint over it! and that has been the case. It is a misfortune when the direction of the fine arts is in the hands of an ignorant man, chosen only for hisNobility! Our Direttore with his cleaners has been the ruin of paintings in the Galleries, since I have been here, to the value of £60,000 or £80,000 sterling—and the money is the least part of the loss. When I mentioned to you that my drawing was a secret, I only meant that, if known here that I obtained access to make a tracing by bribery, it would compromise those who had assisted me. You are welcome to show it to whom you please, anddo whatever you wish with it. But I recommend you not to give it away, for it is theonlycopy that has been made to my knowledge before the fresco was retouched, except the miserable lithography which I send; and, if so bad a copy was produced by the help of tracing, and from the original in its pure state, nothing very good is to be expected in future. The eye in the said lithography was, of course, added by the copier. You will perceive by my drawing that the outline (the eyelash) remained, which was fortunate, as it gives the exact situation of the feature.We are in daily expectation of the arrival of The Book of Mystery.[92]I am doubly anxious, from the distinguished honour you have conferred on me. The Marquis and the Professor are full of gratitude to you, but the Frenchman (entre nous) seemed to confer a favour rather than receive one. And so great a one!Gente francesca!The scientific meeting of Florence commences to-morrow, and ends on the 8th Oct. It opens with a grand Mass of Spontini, in the Church of S. Croce. Galileo’s shrine will be the favourite of the four great Tuscans—besides whom, there is a host of secondary stars: F. Barberini, C. Marsuppini, Leonardo Aretino, Lami, Mascagni, Alfieri, Rinuccini, Alberti, etc., etc., etc.Do you know the Improvisatore Regaldi? and hisCarme a Firenze—written about three years ago. There are some lines on the subject of S. Croce.God bless you, my dear friend, and allow me once more to thank you for all your kindness, and to subscribe myselfMost sincerely yours,Seymour Kirkup.Best remembrances to Sig. Carlo (Eastlake, his name in Rome).The name of the bearer of the portrait is Plowden. He is a banker of Florence, and may be heard of at Messrs Harris & Farquhar, Bankers, of London. He will send it you, I hope, or leave it himself.

Florence,14th September 1841.

My dear Friend,

By the time you receive this, I hope that the portrait of Dante, for you, will be in London.

The gentleman who has taken charge of it was in such haste to leave the country (from the consequences of a fatal duel) that I had not an opportunity for writing.

You will receive, in fact, three portraits. They are as follows:—

No. 1. A drawing in chalk, on light-brown paper, of the face as large as the original. I had intended to write a memorandum on it, but in my hurry it was forgotten. Perhaps you would have the kindness to add it, if you think it worth while—viz.

“Drawn by S. K., and traced with talc, on the original fresco by Giotto; discovered in the Chapel of the Palazzo del Podestà, Florence, on the 21st July 1840, before it was retouched.”

“Drawn by S. K., and traced with talc, on the original fresco by Giotto; discovered in the Chapel of the Palazzo del Podestà, Florence, on the 21st July 1840, before it was retouched.”

No. 2. A small sketch in water-colours, giving the colours of the dress, and the heads supposed to be of Corso Donati and Brunetto Latini.

No. 3. A Lithography by the painter and restorer Marini,who uncovered the painting. This is made on a tracing by himself.

I thought it useful to send you these in order to give you a better idea of this very interesting discovery—Dante, under 30 years of age. With respect to No. 1, it is fixed with glue-water, and will not rub out with common usage. The only thing it is liable to is the cracking or bending of the paper, which sometimes in a face alters the expression.

Since I drew it, I have had the mortification to see the original retouched, and its beauty destroyed. You will perceive that the eye is wanting. A deep hole in the wall was found exactly on that spot, as if done on purpose. It was necessary to fill it that it might not extend further: not content, they ordered Sig. Marini to paint the eye on it, and he has daubed over the face in many parts, to the ruin of its expression and character. It is now 15 years older, a mean, pinched expression, and an effeminate character, compared to what it was. It is not quite so bad as the lithography I send you, but not far from it. When I saw what was done, I asked a young man, his assistant, if it was done with colours in tempera, and he assured me, with a boast, that it was in bon fresco. If so, Dante is gone for good. But I have still hopes that he spoke only of the eye, and many of my friends think it can only be accomplished on the old and hard painting by some distemper-colour of glue, size, or egg; and, if so, a damp cloth fixed on it for half-an-hour will bring it all away without injuring the original fresco. I mean to take my time, and perhaps some day I may restore Dante to himself a second time. I had the principal part in the late discovery.

The lithography I send you is exceedingly unlike and incorrect, although a tracing. In shading and finishing hehas totally lost and changed the outline, if he ever had it. It is vulgar, old, and effeminate—the contrary in every respect to the original. The Florentines of to-day cannot draw, nor even trace. Think of what such a hand would do, if allowed to paint over it! and that has been the case. It is a misfortune when the direction of the fine arts is in the hands of an ignorant man, chosen only for hisNobility! Our Direttore with his cleaners has been the ruin of paintings in the Galleries, since I have been here, to the value of £60,000 or £80,000 sterling—and the money is the least part of the loss. When I mentioned to you that my drawing was a secret, I only meant that, if known here that I obtained access to make a tracing by bribery, it would compromise those who had assisted me. You are welcome to show it to whom you please, anddo whatever you wish with it. But I recommend you not to give it away, for it is theonlycopy that has been made to my knowledge before the fresco was retouched, except the miserable lithography which I send; and, if so bad a copy was produced by the help of tracing, and from the original in its pure state, nothing very good is to be expected in future. The eye in the said lithography was, of course, added by the copier. You will perceive by my drawing that the outline (the eyelash) remained, which was fortunate, as it gives the exact situation of the feature.

We are in daily expectation of the arrival of The Book of Mystery.[92]I am doubly anxious, from the distinguished honour you have conferred on me. The Marquis and the Professor are full of gratitude to you, but the Frenchman (entre nous) seemed to confer a favour rather than receive one. And so great a one!Gente francesca!

The scientific meeting of Florence commences to-morrow, and ends on the 8th Oct. It opens with a grand Mass of Spontini, in the Church of S. Croce. Galileo’s shrine will be the favourite of the four great Tuscans—besides whom, there is a host of secondary stars: F. Barberini, C. Marsuppini, Leonardo Aretino, Lami, Mascagni, Alfieri, Rinuccini, Alberti, etc., etc., etc.

Do you know the Improvisatore Regaldi? and hisCarme a Firenze—written about three years ago. There are some lines on the subject of S. Croce.

God bless you, my dear friend, and allow me once more to thank you for all your kindness, and to subscribe myself

Most sincerely yours,

Seymour Kirkup.

Best remembrances to Sig. Carlo (Eastlake, his name in Rome).

The name of the bearer of the portrait is Plowden. He is a banker of Florence, and may be heard of at Messrs Harris & Farquhar, Bankers, of London. He will send it you, I hope, or leave it himself.

Florence,5th February 1843.My dear Friend,Let me add my thanks to the rest of the world for the mental enjoyment afforded by yourBeatrice. My share is the greater for the handsome and honourable mention you make of me. I am proud of your approbation and good opinion, and am doubly grateful for the rank inyour esteem which you have so generously bestowed on me. The book has met with unusual success here. It has converted many. Whether the name has attracted the public, or the compactness has excited the idle, or the cheapness the economic, or all together, I know not, but it has been much read and admired. Italians and Tramontani are all full of it. I think in general they are grateful for the light; although it destroys a romantic illusion, which has been much cherished, especially on this spot, but which they cannot now entertain, except at the expense of adhering to an absurdity, or rather many absurdities. Some, however, are too far committed, and have too much vanity to acknowledge themselves wrong—the vulgar and the selfish in particular.For my own part, I have found the Ragionamento in part a renewal and condensation of what I had already learned from your former works, divided and spread through them. In this first Ragionamento you have not given the demonstration (I suppose it will follow in a succeeding one) of Boccaccio’s fault respecting May-Day, which is so complete and curious in theMisteri Platonici....The most important of your decisions is confirmed and strengthened in this volume: I mean your identification of Beatrice and Filosofia. Your three reasons at the top of p. 20 are new and unanswerable. How completely Dante blindfolds the superficial reader (which I was, till you taught me to fathom him) by making one believe that the lady at the window wasmundane philosophy, and that Beatrice, orDivine Science, reproaches Dante in Purgatory for having yielded to her attractions for a short time....I am so engrossed by your work that I am carried away and not answering your very kind and most friendly letter. A thousand thanks for it. I know how your time is filled,and have always wondered how you can get through all. I fear even writing you, but you desired me to send you all I think ofBeatrice. My letter would be long indeed if I touched on all its beauties: I should copy the book. There are many additional discoveries in the weaving of this mystic web which the book is rich in. You still surprise those whom you have already convinced. You are certainly an extraordinary Unraveller—a Disentangler—and I will say that, notwithstanding the dry task of unpicking knots, tight-drawn on purpose to resist skill and force, you have performed it with a skill and elegance that render it exciting and delightful to follow.You desire all my “opposizioni.” Lord help me! Can I find an error or two of the press?...I am longing for the next Ragionamento; I don’t know if others want much more to convince them, but in general the first part seems to have had that effect.Mr Lyell judges me, as you do, too partially. All I have learned I owe to you; and I confess to you that I have often found it difficult, even with your powerful help, to remove the substantial screen which Dante has built uppurposelyto conceal and protect his secret. But, when I think of you, who have, alone and single-handed, knocked over so many formidable barriers, and shown us the gardens and roses, the groves, the apples, the laurels, the olives, the flowers, the stags, and all the magic machinery of secret romance, I am lost in thinking how you found your way in such a labyrinth, and what immense and curious courses of reading you must have gone through, turning all you obtained to the accomplishing your will and determination to penetrate an untrod region, without a track or vestige to guide you. I wish I had the ability to write a descriptionof yourMisteri. Perhaps I could be of use in lending a hand merely, as I have studied them much; butmytools are paint-brushes, and I am not practised in the art of writing. My education has been too defective for me ever to have ventured in print. A weak defender is more dangerous than a strong opponent, and all I could hope would be perhaps to hit on some thought that might have escaped others; but without some help from the third heaven (which a good friend of mine knows of) I should not be able to clothe it so as to render it decent.I observe what you say on the subject of necessary reserve on certain subjects. You are quite right. You cannot be too careful in your situation and with your family. From your letter I see that your opinions are nearer mine than I supposed. But, as I am living out of the world and am perfectly free from it, I can safely be as explicit as I please. I have no reserve, and, if everthecause require a word beyond the customary and necessary limits, call upon me to say it, or say anything for me against priestcraft and kingcraft. That is my religion.I don’t wonder at Mr Lyell’s exultation at yourBeatrice. There are some master-touches amongst the new proofs, both in matter and manner, both close reasoning and light....The three pomegranates in Giotto’s fresco are so uncertain in their appearance, from injury and time, that I was doubtful about them, but a word from you decides the question in my mind. They are chipped and much obliterated; and, from their seeming a sort of double outline, and no shade or colour but the yellow drapery on which they are painted, I took them for an embroidery on the breast of the Barone. Some remains of fingers and stalk, however, had led theFlorentines to consider them as melograni, and they were puzzling their brains to find a meaning....Your whole-length portrait of yourself is full of nature and character, and therefore it must be very like: I thank you for it. And here is mine:—a little thin old man, 54, formerly dark, now very grey. Fond of fun, but not often tempted to indulge in it, and seldom depressed. Living alone in an old tower with two dogs only—a servant coming daily for a few hours. Disliking much to go into company, and especially to dress in cold weather, being slovenly even in my younger days. I live very temperately and never take wine. I am very active, more from lightness than strength, for I feel the effects of years and illness. Just now I boast, for I have had extraordinary health this autumn and winter. I paint a little, and read a good deal. I ought to do more in both, with opportunities and perfect liberty, but I am slow and stupid. My memory, too, is weaker than it was.Lord Vernon has twice desired me to present his best compliments and remembrances to you. He hopes you have received his book (through Molini). There is an outline in it from my tracing of Dante’s head, and, though it is not very correct, it is the best yet done....When will your new edition ofIddio e l’Uomocome out? I admired it much in its former state. Forgive the length of this letter, and remember me to Eastlake and Keightley.Believe me, with sincere affection,Your faithful friend,Seymour Kirkup.

Florence,5th February 1843.

My dear Friend,

Let me add my thanks to the rest of the world for the mental enjoyment afforded by yourBeatrice. My share is the greater for the handsome and honourable mention you make of me. I am proud of your approbation and good opinion, and am doubly grateful for the rank inyour esteem which you have so generously bestowed on me. The book has met with unusual success here. It has converted many. Whether the name has attracted the public, or the compactness has excited the idle, or the cheapness the economic, or all together, I know not, but it has been much read and admired. Italians and Tramontani are all full of it. I think in general they are grateful for the light; although it destroys a romantic illusion, which has been much cherished, especially on this spot, but which they cannot now entertain, except at the expense of adhering to an absurdity, or rather many absurdities. Some, however, are too far committed, and have too much vanity to acknowledge themselves wrong—the vulgar and the selfish in particular.

For my own part, I have found the Ragionamento in part a renewal and condensation of what I had already learned from your former works, divided and spread through them. In this first Ragionamento you have not given the demonstration (I suppose it will follow in a succeeding one) of Boccaccio’s fault respecting May-Day, which is so complete and curious in theMisteri Platonici....

The most important of your decisions is confirmed and strengthened in this volume: I mean your identification of Beatrice and Filosofia. Your three reasons at the top of p. 20 are new and unanswerable. How completely Dante blindfolds the superficial reader (which I was, till you taught me to fathom him) by making one believe that the lady at the window wasmundane philosophy, and that Beatrice, orDivine Science, reproaches Dante in Purgatory for having yielded to her attractions for a short time....

I am so engrossed by your work that I am carried away and not answering your very kind and most friendly letter. A thousand thanks for it. I know how your time is filled,and have always wondered how you can get through all. I fear even writing you, but you desired me to send you all I think ofBeatrice. My letter would be long indeed if I touched on all its beauties: I should copy the book. There are many additional discoveries in the weaving of this mystic web which the book is rich in. You still surprise those whom you have already convinced. You are certainly an extraordinary Unraveller—a Disentangler—and I will say that, notwithstanding the dry task of unpicking knots, tight-drawn on purpose to resist skill and force, you have performed it with a skill and elegance that render it exciting and delightful to follow.

You desire all my “opposizioni.” Lord help me! Can I find an error or two of the press?...

I am longing for the next Ragionamento; I don’t know if others want much more to convince them, but in general the first part seems to have had that effect.

Mr Lyell judges me, as you do, too partially. All I have learned I owe to you; and I confess to you that I have often found it difficult, even with your powerful help, to remove the substantial screen which Dante has built uppurposelyto conceal and protect his secret. But, when I think of you, who have, alone and single-handed, knocked over so many formidable barriers, and shown us the gardens and roses, the groves, the apples, the laurels, the olives, the flowers, the stags, and all the magic machinery of secret romance, I am lost in thinking how you found your way in such a labyrinth, and what immense and curious courses of reading you must have gone through, turning all you obtained to the accomplishing your will and determination to penetrate an untrod region, without a track or vestige to guide you. I wish I had the ability to write a descriptionof yourMisteri. Perhaps I could be of use in lending a hand merely, as I have studied them much; butmytools are paint-brushes, and I am not practised in the art of writing. My education has been too defective for me ever to have ventured in print. A weak defender is more dangerous than a strong opponent, and all I could hope would be perhaps to hit on some thought that might have escaped others; but without some help from the third heaven (which a good friend of mine knows of) I should not be able to clothe it so as to render it decent.

I observe what you say on the subject of necessary reserve on certain subjects. You are quite right. You cannot be too careful in your situation and with your family. From your letter I see that your opinions are nearer mine than I supposed. But, as I am living out of the world and am perfectly free from it, I can safely be as explicit as I please. I have no reserve, and, if everthecause require a word beyond the customary and necessary limits, call upon me to say it, or say anything for me against priestcraft and kingcraft. That is my religion.

I don’t wonder at Mr Lyell’s exultation at yourBeatrice. There are some master-touches amongst the new proofs, both in matter and manner, both close reasoning and light....

The three pomegranates in Giotto’s fresco are so uncertain in their appearance, from injury and time, that I was doubtful about them, but a word from you decides the question in my mind. They are chipped and much obliterated; and, from their seeming a sort of double outline, and no shade or colour but the yellow drapery on which they are painted, I took them for an embroidery on the breast of the Barone. Some remains of fingers and stalk, however, had led theFlorentines to consider them as melograni, and they were puzzling their brains to find a meaning....

Your whole-length portrait of yourself is full of nature and character, and therefore it must be very like: I thank you for it. And here is mine:—a little thin old man, 54, formerly dark, now very grey. Fond of fun, but not often tempted to indulge in it, and seldom depressed. Living alone in an old tower with two dogs only—a servant coming daily for a few hours. Disliking much to go into company, and especially to dress in cold weather, being slovenly even in my younger days. I live very temperately and never take wine. I am very active, more from lightness than strength, for I feel the effects of years and illness. Just now I boast, for I have had extraordinary health this autumn and winter. I paint a little, and read a good deal. I ought to do more in both, with opportunities and perfect liberty, but I am slow and stupid. My memory, too, is weaker than it was.

Lord Vernon has twice desired me to present his best compliments and remembrances to you. He hopes you have received his book (through Molini). There is an outline in it from my tracing of Dante’s head, and, though it is not very correct, it is the best yet done....

When will your new edition ofIddio e l’Uomocome out? I admired it much in its former state. Forgive the length of this letter, and remember me to Eastlake and Keightley.

Believe me, with sincere affection,

Your faithful friend,

Seymour Kirkup.

No. 4.—Letters (or Extracts from Letters) from Giuseppe Mazzini—Eleven to Rossetti, and one to another Correspondent

The following are the only letters from Mazzini that remain among my father’s papers—except some other three or four, too trifling to be printed. The originals are naturally in Italian; the translation is mine. Letters A. and B. relate to a certain Galassi and Vantini, whom I do not remember, but the letters explain themselves well enough. Mention is also made of a “little book” by my father, which wasRome towards the Middle of the Nineteenth Century. Letters C, D, and E, refer to a school which was got up in London, by some leading resident Italians interested in the lot of their fellow-countrymen, for the instruction of the poorer and hitherto much neglected members of the colony—organ-grinders, plaster-cast vendors, models, waiters, journeymen, etc. The ice-cream purveyor did not exist at that remote date. This school, held in the Hatton Garden quarter, went on for some few years, dignified by the countenance of Mazzini, and greatly indebted to the practical work of (among others) Filippo Pistrucci, who was a painter, teacher, writer, and improvisatore, brother of the celebrated medallist. Rossetti of course concurred, but without taking any very active part. Letters F, G, and H, refer mainly to a MS. which my father wished to send to Paris—being, I take it, the selection of his poems, many of them youthful, which were published at Lausanne, under the titleVersi. There is also some mention of the Conte Giuseppe Ricciardi, named on p. 91 of the present book. He belonged to the Mazzinian sect, but sometimes kicked against the traces, and one can see in the correspondence that the great chief found him onoccasion a little exacting and tenacious. Letter I has reference to afêtewhich Signor Giovanni Antonio Delavo, who had erected a villa on the site of the Battle of Marengo, got up on the anniversary of the conflict. He had induced my father to write a poem for that commemoration; and Mazzini, it seems, was invited to obtain the insertion, in some English newspaper, of the poem, or of some other writing connected with the occurrence. In this letter, and in the following one (J), the observations about political events deserve notice. The final letter (K) seems to belong to a late date in 1848, and to imply that various Italians, including Mazzini himself, had addressed the Swiss Diet in consequence of some complications arising out of the Italian military reverses, in conflict with the Austrians, towards the close of that memorable year of unmeasured hopes and cruel disappointments.

A few notes of my own on minor points are appended to the correspondence.

Besides the eleven letters to my father, I give one letter, of far larger purport, which is quite unconnected with my family. It was lately purchased by a daughter of mine, simply as an autograph. On the purport of this document I need not enlarge, as it speaks for itself. It stands numbered at the close “15” in Mazzini’s handwriting, and would seem therefore to be one missive in a sustained correspondence. The recipient (or some one) has written upon it in Italian, “Letter from Giuseppe Mazzini”; moreover, the peculiar handwriting is quite unmistakable. It bears no date, and, for reasons readily surmisable, no postmark. In the course of the letter the addressee is spoken of as “My Corso”: I presume, therefore, that his surname may have been Corso, but thismightalso be a Christian name, or might merelymean “Corsican.” A name is written by Mazzini on the back of the letter; it has been partly inked over, and looks to me more like “Mr Clare” than anything else.

The letter shows that the addressee had some relations with Vincenzo Gioberti, the celebrated Churchman and Minister of State, whose leading work,Il Primato d’Italia, was published in 1845. Perhaps 1846 or thereabouts may be the date of the letter. It mentions Tommaseo, a multifarious man of letters, whom English people may remember as having written the inscription on Casa Guidi, Florence, for Mrs Browning; Buonarroti, a member of the house of the great Michelangelo; and Bozzelli, the Liberal politician in Naples, who came to precarious power in 1848. My father has mentioned him on p. 98. Libri appears to be the Librarian of that name, settled in Paris, who succumbed under a charge of serious frauds. The names of Malmusi and Bianco are not recognized by me.

4 York Buildings, King’s Road, Chelsea.28th March 1841.My dear Signore Rossetti,You warmly recommended to Vantini one of our brother exiles, Galassi. You recommended him for some employment, and that is well. But to discover an employment is a lengthy affair, and Galassi has not a halfpenny in the world, and I, for the last month and a half, have been assisting him so far as my means allow—or indeeddon’tallow. However, an expedient has offered, equally acceptable to Galassi and to us—that of sending him toSpain. What between the friends that he has there, and others whom we could obtain for him, and his knowledge of the language, and other points, he would not find it difficult to procure occupation; here, not understanding, nor perhaps making himself understood, he would not succeed in a hundred years. Also a ship has been found which would convey him to Bilbao or Santander for a sum of £5; so that, with some few other pounds to get along with at the first start, Galassi might have a chance of better fortune. Now the ship will leave on the 30th of this month, and I can and will do my share—not the whole. Therefore I appeal to you and to other good Italians. And from you, as being better than many others, I wish for two things instead of one; I would like that, if youcan, you would inscribe your name for some shillings on the accompanying subscription-list—and that, if youwill, you would write off to Vantini, informing him that your client is preparing to depart, and does not need to be assisted save this one time, and you would send on the list to him. Vantini is indeed one of the best-hearted of them, and this I know by experience. I would myself write to him, but have recommended so many to him that I dare no more. Besides, it seems to me better, sinceyoumade the beginning, that you should bring this good work to a close. None the less, I shall be grateful to you, as if you undertook it now, and solely for my sake.Meanwhile I am greatly obliged to you for the little book you sent me; good and useful. We perhaps do not wholly agree as to the remedies to be applied to our Italy; but certainly we do agree as to her wounds, and you do a beneficial work in laying bare unremittingly one of the most pernicious. For the rest, I trust in God that one day we shall understand each other, and that you will be unwillingto hold aloof from our National Association, now re-organized in all quarters, and on the way to power.Believe meantime in the affectionate esteem of yourGiuseppe Mazzini.

4 York Buildings, King’s Road, Chelsea.

28th March 1841.

My dear Signore Rossetti,

You warmly recommended to Vantini one of our brother exiles, Galassi. You recommended him for some employment, and that is well. But to discover an employment is a lengthy affair, and Galassi has not a halfpenny in the world, and I, for the last month and a half, have been assisting him so far as my means allow—or indeeddon’tallow. However, an expedient has offered, equally acceptable to Galassi and to us—that of sending him toSpain. What between the friends that he has there, and others whom we could obtain for him, and his knowledge of the language, and other points, he would not find it difficult to procure occupation; here, not understanding, nor perhaps making himself understood, he would not succeed in a hundred years. Also a ship has been found which would convey him to Bilbao or Santander for a sum of £5; so that, with some few other pounds to get along with at the first start, Galassi might have a chance of better fortune. Now the ship will leave on the 30th of this month, and I can and will do my share—not the whole. Therefore I appeal to you and to other good Italians. And from you, as being better than many others, I wish for two things instead of one; I would like that, if youcan, you would inscribe your name for some shillings on the accompanying subscription-list—and that, if youwill, you would write off to Vantini, informing him that your client is preparing to depart, and does not need to be assisted save this one time, and you would send on the list to him. Vantini is indeed one of the best-hearted of them, and this I know by experience. I would myself write to him, but have recommended so many to him that I dare no more. Besides, it seems to me better, sinceyoumade the beginning, that you should bring this good work to a close. None the less, I shall be grateful to you, as if you undertook it now, and solely for my sake.

Meanwhile I am greatly obliged to you for the little book you sent me; good and useful. We perhaps do not wholly agree as to the remedies to be applied to our Italy; but certainly we do agree as to her wounds, and you do a beneficial work in laying bare unremittingly one of the most pernicious. For the rest, I trust in God that one day we shall understand each other, and that you will be unwillingto hold aloof from our National Association, now re-organized in all quarters, and on the way to power.

Believe meantime in the affectionate esteem of your

Giuseppe Mazzini.

4 York Buildings, King’s Road, Chelsea.? 1841.My dear Signore Rossetti,I have managed with Vantini through a different method; anyhow, I thank you for the intention, and for what you did for my client.If you will send an order to Rolandi to deliver, to some one on my behalf, a certain number of copies of your booklet, I will send them, four days hence, by an opportunity to Spain. At present I have no opportunity as to Switzerland, but I have correspondents there; and, were the chance to present itself to you sooner than to me, address to Signor Fanciola, Postmaster at Locarno (Ticino) for “Signor Pietro Ol——”; and the copies will be distributed in accordance with your intentions.I have promised to send to a friend in New York the copy of the Papal Excommunication of Carbonarism—launched, I think, in 1820. Do you happen to know where I could find it?I am aware of your circumstances;[93]but what is requestedof you would be no more than the influence of your name among the Italians who know you. The object is to have you as our brother in our Association, so that to any inquirer one could say—“All those who truly love the cause of their country have comprehended that unity of country cannot be founded without unity of association.” There would be a slight monthly contribution fixed by yourself; there would be (and this is the most serious condition, but, as you will see, inevitable) the certainty that, in writing about our country, you would leave off recommending monarchic constitutionalism, and repeat with us: “May God and the People be the salvation of Italy!” And these, for us who are abroad, are about the only conditions of the Association. For the rest, I believe that a copy of ourGeneral Instruction, given to you by Pistrucci, has remained in your hands. The whole of our thought is there expressed; and, if one day you feel able to say “I accept it and make it mine,” you will be received by us with joy and sincere brotherliness.Meanwhile good-bye, and believe meYours,Giuseppe Mazzini.If you like, you should place at my disposal a certain number of copies for Marseilles, and for Italy in that direction; I will provide for their reaching.

4 York Buildings, King’s Road, Chelsea.

? 1841.

My dear Signore Rossetti,

I have managed with Vantini through a different method; anyhow, I thank you for the intention, and for what you did for my client.

If you will send an order to Rolandi to deliver, to some one on my behalf, a certain number of copies of your booklet, I will send them, four days hence, by an opportunity to Spain. At present I have no opportunity as to Switzerland, but I have correspondents there; and, were the chance to present itself to you sooner than to me, address to Signor Fanciola, Postmaster at Locarno (Ticino) for “Signor Pietro Ol——”; and the copies will be distributed in accordance with your intentions.

I have promised to send to a friend in New York the copy of the Papal Excommunication of Carbonarism—launched, I think, in 1820. Do you happen to know where I could find it?

I am aware of your circumstances;[93]but what is requestedof you would be no more than the influence of your name among the Italians who know you. The object is to have you as our brother in our Association, so that to any inquirer one could say—“All those who truly love the cause of their country have comprehended that unity of country cannot be founded without unity of association.” There would be a slight monthly contribution fixed by yourself; there would be (and this is the most serious condition, but, as you will see, inevitable) the certainty that, in writing about our country, you would leave off recommending monarchic constitutionalism, and repeat with us: “May God and the People be the salvation of Italy!” And these, for us who are abroad, are about the only conditions of the Association. For the rest, I believe that a copy of ourGeneral Instruction, given to you by Pistrucci, has remained in your hands. The whole of our thought is there expressed; and, if one day you feel able to say “I accept it and make it mine,” you will be received by us with joy and sincere brotherliness.

Meanwhile good-bye, and believe me

Yours,

Giuseppe Mazzini.

If you like, you should place at my disposal a certain number of copies for Marseilles, and for Italy in that direction; I will provide for their reaching.

London.?November 1844.My dear Signor Rossetti,I transcribe verbatim a letter that I have received.“To Signori Rossetti, Pepoli,[94]and Mazzini. A Special Committee chosen by the Italian Working-men begs you to come together on Sunday 4th December 1844, at the hour and place most convenient to yourselves, to receive a communication of high importance; and, in the confidence that you will grant us this favour, we thank you meanwhile. The members of the aforesaid Committee—Odoardo Villani, G. B. Soldi, A. Berni, Giuseppe Gandolfini.”I don’t know anything about the object of the meeting. I know the four signatories, and they are good worthy Italians. In the impossibility, for lack of time, of corresponding as to hour and place, I take the liberty of fixing for the meeting my house, between 1 and 2P.M.I am notifying to Pepoli and to them. Try and come if you can; or, if perchance you cannot, write so as to relieve me of responsibility.Believe me alwaysYours,Giuseppe Mazzini.

London.

?November 1844.

My dear Signor Rossetti,

I transcribe verbatim a letter that I have received.

“To Signori Rossetti, Pepoli,[94]and Mazzini. A Special Committee chosen by the Italian Working-men begs you to come together on Sunday 4th December 1844, at the hour and place most convenient to yourselves, to receive a communication of high importance; and, in the confidence that you will grant us this favour, we thank you meanwhile. The members of the aforesaid Committee—Odoardo Villani, G. B. Soldi, A. Berni, Giuseppe Gandolfini.”

I don’t know anything about the object of the meeting. I know the four signatories, and they are good worthy Italians. In the impossibility, for lack of time, of corresponding as to hour and place, I take the liberty of fixing for the meeting my house, between 1 and 2P.M.I am notifying to Pepoli and to them. Try and come if you can; or, if perchance you cannot, write so as to relieve me of responsibility.

Believe me always

Yours,

Giuseppe Mazzini.

4 York Buildings, Chelsea.?May 1845.My dear Signor Rossetti,We have decided to have on an early day in June a concert for the benefit of the school; Pistrucci, I suppose, will give you all the particulars of the project, or I will give them myself. You will then see howfar and in what way you may be able to aid towards a good result. But meanwhile I have to beg you urgently for one thing. I have a letter of introduction to Miss Kemble,[95]and I want to request her to sing: singing for a school is quite a different thing from singing in a theatre. I know that she at one time asked Giannone[96]for a letter to you, and that you saw her. I don’t know on what terms you have remained with her, but, knowingyou, I presume good terms. Could you add a letter to the one which I hold? or could you join me in a visit? or, if nothing else, write to her on your own part?—and, in this last case, on Monday or Tuesday. Thus assailed at one moment from two sides, she would perhaps surrender.Whatever you decide, please oblige me with a couple of words in reply, and with the lady’s present address,[97]if you can give this.Wish me well, and believe meYour very affectionateGiuseppe Mazzini.

4 York Buildings, Chelsea.

?May 1845.

My dear Signor Rossetti,

We have decided to have on an early day in June a concert for the benefit of the school; Pistrucci, I suppose, will give you all the particulars of the project, or I will give them myself. You will then see howfar and in what way you may be able to aid towards a good result. But meanwhile I have to beg you urgently for one thing. I have a letter of introduction to Miss Kemble,[95]and I want to request her to sing: singing for a school is quite a different thing from singing in a theatre. I know that she at one time asked Giannone[96]for a letter to you, and that you saw her. I don’t know on what terms you have remained with her, but, knowingyou, I presume good terms. Could you add a letter to the one which I hold? or could you join me in a visit? or, if nothing else, write to her on your own part?—and, in this last case, on Monday or Tuesday. Thus assailed at one moment from two sides, she would perhaps surrender.

Whatever you decide, please oblige me with a couple of words in reply, and with the lady’s present address,[97]if you can give this.

Wish me well, and believe me

Your very affectionate

Giuseppe Mazzini.

108 High Holborn.31st October 1845.My dear Signor Rossetti,Pistrucci told me that he would undertake to beg you to allow your voice to be heard, in one way or other, at the Anniversary of our School, 10th November.[98]Still, I will join to his my poor request. The fact of the School is an Italian fact; and it ought, even with a view to the English, to have the moral support of all Italians who, like yourself, do honour to the name of our common country.Confiding in your willingness to hearken to our request, believe, dear Signor Rossetti, in the full friendly esteem ofYours,Giuseppe Mazzini.

108 High Holborn.

31st October 1845.

My dear Signor Rossetti,

Pistrucci told me that he would undertake to beg you to allow your voice to be heard, in one way or other, at the Anniversary of our School, 10th November.[98]Still, I will join to his my poor request. The fact of the School is an Italian fact; and it ought, even with a view to the English, to have the moral support of all Italians who, like yourself, do honour to the name of our common country.

Confiding in your willingness to hearken to our request, believe, dear Signor Rossetti, in the full friendly esteem of

Yours,

Giuseppe Mazzini.

19 Cropley Street, New North Road.[?January 1847].Very dear Signor Rossetti,An opportunity has arisen. Will you give the MS. to the bearer? He will be leaving to-morrow, or at latest on Tuesday.I thank you for your good wishes for the year now commenced; but I have no hope of joy, save one alone—that of bearing witness in death, as I have endeavoured to do in life, to my Italian faith. Pray that this may occur within this year, and believe me alwaysYour much attachedGiuseppe Mazzini.

19 Cropley Street, New North Road.

[?January 1847].

Very dear Signor Rossetti,

An opportunity has arisen. Will you give the MS. to the bearer? He will be leaving to-morrow, or at latest on Tuesday.

I thank you for your good wishes for the year now commenced; but I have no hope of joy, save one alone—that of bearing witness in death, as I have endeavoured to do in life, to my Italian faith. Pray that this may occur within this year, and believe me always

Your much attached

Giuseppe Mazzini.

19 Cropley Street, New North Road.[?January 1847].My dear Signor Rossetti,The Manuscript has gone off—not anything else. Ricciardi, Janer, Pistrucci, will have patience, and await other opportunities which I shall have towardsthe end of the month. We cannot, for exhortations and sonnets, be guilty of an indiscretion towards English travellers, who consider they have stretched a point if they accept letters, and are quite capable of throwing in your face a “Why not employ a bookseller?”—which I should not like. However, I undertake, for love of you, to get all the things off, but distributing them among various travellers. A slight delay will not spoil matters; nor will the exhortations to return to Paris accelerate to any great extent the progress of French civilization.I was unable to charge my traveller—an Englishman, young, and an officer—with the eight shillings, for he would probably have forgotten them. But I have written that you had given them to me, to be paid to Ricciardi—and probably they will be paid one of these days.Believe me, with all esteem,Your much attachedGiuseppe Mazzini.

19 Cropley Street, New North Road.

[?January 1847].

My dear Signor Rossetti,

The Manuscript has gone off—not anything else. Ricciardi, Janer, Pistrucci, will have patience, and await other opportunities which I shall have towardsthe end of the month. We cannot, for exhortations and sonnets, be guilty of an indiscretion towards English travellers, who consider they have stretched a point if they accept letters, and are quite capable of throwing in your face a “Why not employ a bookseller?”—which I should not like. However, I undertake, for love of you, to get all the things off, but distributing them among various travellers. A slight delay will not spoil matters; nor will the exhortations to return to Paris accelerate to any great extent the progress of French civilization.

I was unable to charge my traveller—an Englishman, young, and an officer—with the eight shillings, for he would probably have forgotten them. But I have written that you had given them to me, to be paid to Ricciardi—and probably they will be paid one of these days.

Believe me, with all esteem,

Your much attached

Giuseppe Mazzini.

17 Cropley Street, New North Road.8th February[1847].My dear Signor Rossetti,To your MS. has happened what often happens to our Italian affairs: in trying to do good, one does harm. If we had waited patiently for that Italian traveller of mine of the 24th January, the MS. would at this date be in Paris. But, urged on by my own wishes, and also by the strong pressure, I seized the opportunity of an Englishman, Captain Boulton, and consigned the volume to him. He, as he said, was to leave on the following day.And, knowing nothing to the contrary, I supposed him to have departed, in fact; until, five or six days ago, becoming suspicious from the silence of my correspondents, and making active quest for the officer, I found that owing to some family incident or other he had deferred his departure, and had indeed gone off to the country—whence he writes that he will be leaving in seven days!!You should, therefore, be under no alarm for the MS. Like yourself, I regret the delay, but it is not my fault. If, earlier than the seven days, I get an opportunity, I will see that the MS. goes off before the officer; if not, not.I felt anxious to reply to you about the MS., as the matter of most importance. As to Ricciardi’s eight copies, please inform Ricciardi that one can’t tell a tourist, “Take with you a boxful of things”; that it is a miracle if I found some one to convey the eight; that, sooner or later, I shall find some one to convey the others; and that moreover I would not have undertaken, except for wishing to do a service to you whom I greatly esteem, to send off either the eight or the sixteen. Neither would I set going from Paris to London, and then from London to Paris, copies of my own performances, but would order them to be burned or given away.And believe me everYour much attached and affectionateGiuseppe Mazzini.

17 Cropley Street, New North Road.

8th February[1847].

My dear Signor Rossetti,

To your MS. has happened what often happens to our Italian affairs: in trying to do good, one does harm. If we had waited patiently for that Italian traveller of mine of the 24th January, the MS. would at this date be in Paris. But, urged on by my own wishes, and also by the strong pressure, I seized the opportunity of an Englishman, Captain Boulton, and consigned the volume to him. He, as he said, was to leave on the following day.And, knowing nothing to the contrary, I supposed him to have departed, in fact; until, five or six days ago, becoming suspicious from the silence of my correspondents, and making active quest for the officer, I found that owing to some family incident or other he had deferred his departure, and had indeed gone off to the country—whence he writes that he will be leaving in seven days!!

You should, therefore, be under no alarm for the MS. Like yourself, I regret the delay, but it is not my fault. If, earlier than the seven days, I get an opportunity, I will see that the MS. goes off before the officer; if not, not.

I felt anxious to reply to you about the MS., as the matter of most importance. As to Ricciardi’s eight copies, please inform Ricciardi that one can’t tell a tourist, “Take with you a boxful of things”; that it is a miracle if I found some one to convey the eight; that, sooner or later, I shall find some one to convey the others; and that moreover I would not have undertaken, except for wishing to do a service to you whom I greatly esteem, to send off either the eight or the sixteen. Neither would I set going from Paris to London, and then from London to Paris, copies of my own performances, but would order them to be burned or given away.

And believe me ever

Your much attached and affectionate

Giuseppe Mazzini.

19 Cropley Street, New North Road.?May 1847.Dear Signor Rossetti,I cannot succeed in the endeavour. Among the leading newspapers, I had no hope save in theMorningChronicle, and this one declines. The quantity of matter, electoral movements, literary articles already promised, etc., form the pretext. The true reason, I think, is that the apotheosis of Napoleon has no grateful sound to English reminiscences. Besides, a short paragraph upon the celebration of the 6th[99]had already received insertion in several journals when your letter arrived, and they are not fond of repetitions.For myself, I, as you know, do not believe in King nor in Pope: I believe in God and in ourselves. They may do what they choose, and try to compromise Charles Albert[100]in the face of Austria by every means: the rabbit will not be changed into a lion. I say rabbit, and might say fox. To celebrate Marengo, a battle won by an Italian but in the name and under the banner of the French nation, while we have the Austrians our masters two paces off, savours to me of bragging rather than of patriotism. I see these demonstrations with pleasure, because they furnish an occasion for impressing on the people, who know not, the name of Italy, and that of her oppressors; but, as an individual, I feel inclined to smile with a trifle of bitterness. In Piedmont the rabbit is now in the vein of reaction; and not only the suppression of the subscription,[101]but that of the Family-readings conceded to the Jesuits, and other recent acts, speak clearly enough. However, we shall see.I keep the letter for another two days, for a final endeavour; afterwards, I shall return it to you. Meanwhile believe me alwaysYour much attached and affectionateGiuseppe Mazzini.

19 Cropley Street, New North Road.

?May 1847.

Dear Signor Rossetti,

I cannot succeed in the endeavour. Among the leading newspapers, I had no hope save in theMorningChronicle, and this one declines. The quantity of matter, electoral movements, literary articles already promised, etc., form the pretext. The true reason, I think, is that the apotheosis of Napoleon has no grateful sound to English reminiscences. Besides, a short paragraph upon the celebration of the 6th[99]had already received insertion in several journals when your letter arrived, and they are not fond of repetitions.

For myself, I, as you know, do not believe in King nor in Pope: I believe in God and in ourselves. They may do what they choose, and try to compromise Charles Albert[100]in the face of Austria by every means: the rabbit will not be changed into a lion. I say rabbit, and might say fox. To celebrate Marengo, a battle won by an Italian but in the name and under the banner of the French nation, while we have the Austrians our masters two paces off, savours to me of bragging rather than of patriotism. I see these demonstrations with pleasure, because they furnish an occasion for impressing on the people, who know not, the name of Italy, and that of her oppressors; but, as an individual, I feel inclined to smile with a trifle of bitterness. In Piedmont the rabbit is now in the vein of reaction; and not only the suppression of the subscription,[101]but that of the Family-readings conceded to the Jesuits, and other recent acts, speak clearly enough. However, we shall see.

I keep the letter for another two days, for a final endeavour; afterwards, I shall return it to you. Meanwhile believe me always

Your much attached and affectionate

Giuseppe Mazzini.

[The reference to Ricciardi’s book follows on more or less from what appears in two previous letters. The book may possibly have been a predictiveHistory of Italy from 1850 to 1900, which was published in 1842. This letter, written in the great year of European revolutions, 1848, belongs, I suppose, to a very early date in that year; perhaps prior to the insurrection in Paris, which began on 23rd February. There had been some disturbances in Milan on 3rd January, and a rising in Messina from 6th January. On 22nd February martial law was proclaimed in Lombardy by the Austrians.]

19 Cropley Street, New North Road.?February 1848.My dear Signor Rossetti,I send you by Parcels Delivery Company ten copies of Ricciardi’s book, admiring our friend’s tenacity of memory, especially in this time of events. These are the only copies that I find in my possession. If Ihada larger number, the Italian friends who during the long interval have been frequenting my house must have appropriated them with no great ceremony, much as they appropriate my own books. None the less, if ever Ricciardi were to complain, I declare myself ready to pay the expense of thecopies deficient. I ought to have been on the watch, but that is not my habit.The affairs of Italy are going and will go on their right course—that is, to the expulsion of the Austrians from the Lombardo-Venetian territory. The Sicilian insurrection has done more for the Italian cause, in a few days of popular action, than two years of petitioning.Believe me alwaysYour much attachedGiuseppe Mazzini.

19 Cropley Street, New North Road.

?February 1848.

My dear Signor Rossetti,

I send you by Parcels Delivery Company ten copies of Ricciardi’s book, admiring our friend’s tenacity of memory, especially in this time of events. These are the only copies that I find in my possession. If Ihada larger number, the Italian friends who during the long interval have been frequenting my house must have appropriated them with no great ceremony, much as they appropriate my own books. None the less, if ever Ricciardi were to complain, I declare myself ready to pay the expense of thecopies deficient. I ought to have been on the watch, but that is not my habit.

The affairs of Italy are going and will go on their right course—that is, to the expulsion of the Austrians from the Lombardo-Venetian territory. The Sicilian insurrection has done more for the Italian cause, in a few days of popular action, than two years of petitioning.

Believe me always

Your much attached

Giuseppe Mazzini.

19 Cropley Street, New North Road.?November 1848.My dear Signor Rossetti,Here is the Address which we sent to the Swiss Diet. I will add that a discussion on military capitulations was in consequence started in the Diet by the Ticino and the Bas-Valais; a discussion which, as befalls everything important in that Central (not Government but) mis-Government, was not settled, but held over (as they say)ad referendum.Make any use of me that I can manage, and believe me alwaysYour much attachedGiuseppe Mazzini.

19 Cropley Street, New North Road.

?November 1848.

My dear Signor Rossetti,

Here is the Address which we sent to the Swiss Diet. I will add that a discussion on military capitulations was in consequence started in the Diet by the Ticino and the Bas-Valais; a discussion which, as befalls everything important in that Central (not Government but) mis-Government, was not settled, but held over (as they say)ad referendum.

Make any use of me that I can manage, and believe me always

Your much attached

Giuseppe Mazzini.

To “Corso”

Brother,I have received yours of the 8th. That I should write to you at much length on the subject of yourletter is not possible. You, however, will certainly not suppose that I evade the discussion, nor that I do not set a right value on your convictions, or do not care about them. No indeed; and you are mistaken in fancying that your frankness of speech could ever offend me. If you but knew how the religion of truth is the religion for me! and how much any real conviction inspires me with respect, if not assent! But this is not a question to be disposed of in a few letters; nor have I time, beset as I am by a thousand distractions through my dream of Italian initiative, to enter on a discussion. And, if I ever have time, I shall compose, I confess to you, a whole volume—but I shall never publish it, unless a Republican revolution should have broken out. For the present, I understand this latest reaction in favour of Christianity, and I see it to be necessary, and acknowledge it as useful. A true knowledge of Christianity—its nature, its mission—will follow from this study. Just as, in my view,reformmust naturally precede the securing of independence, liberty, and equality, in political dogma, so do I believe that the political synthesis, or at any rate a glimpse of this synthesis, must, in the new epoch, precede in renovated Europe the manifestation of the religious synthesis of the epoch. Rights were of yore individual; and it was natural that first theindividualshould be emancipated, that theinstrumentshould be formed to acquire an application of those rights in the political department. At the present time the reverse is the case. The question is that of thesocialsynthesis. Theinstrumentis no longer theindividual, but the people. Therefore the people, which is to secure the religious formula, requires to beconstituted: therefore a political revolution before the religious one.Only, you know what I have always said: like advancedscouts, secret sentinels of human nature,intelligencesmust begin to proclaim that they descry thenew landsand the new law. And therefore I should have supposed you to be among them; and I still believe that you will be among them later on. Meanwhile, as you think that my efforts (and be it observed that I am doing nothing) are to subserve the triumph of Christianity, so do I think that yours are to subserve the triumph of the new synthesis, thesocialsynthesis, philosophy merged into religion: because—I do not deny it—my “harmonized dualism” is precisely this harmonizing of philosophy with religion—two things which hitherto have been at odds, and which will end by coalescing. Yours is, without your perceiving it, an eclecticism and no more. Yourquid tertium, neithercatholicnorprimitive(two distinctions as to which I should have much to say), is an Utopia, or rather a chimera. You don’t perceive that that which you callprimitiveis at bottom nothing except Christianity in the soul, not any social form; that the second epoch—i.e.Catholicism—is rightly the application of Christianity to society; and that the Reformation—a cynical movement, whatever you may say about it—came, in fact, to say of Christianity: “You are not susceptible of any social application, of any national unity, because you are an individualistic formula and no more: stay you in your proper sphere.”You and I, I perceive, regard the Reformation, and all things, from different points of view.And now see what is the outcome of the idea, “Christianity is aneternalreligion, an unique religious synthesis.” And what of mankind prior to Christianity? Oh in what sense do you understand God, if you admit that He gave the unique eternal synthesis some thousands of years after the race had been created? And the unity of the mind of God? Aprogressive law at the beginning, and an eternal synthesis later on? But no more of this; you go too far. Believing as I do, with yourself, in continuous progression, there ought to be between us only a question of time, but never a denial of a new synthesis when the time comes.Christianity asserts its perfection and eternity as a fundamental principle: therefore you cannot, without destroying it, say that it is not the whole of truth.But once again, no more of this. Christianity had to profess itself perfect and eternal, and I even admit that. But when did Christianity ever affect to be a social religion?Thatis the question. Christianity is the formula of the individual, and as such is eternal and perfect to my thinking—for that formula is what no one can nullify. It means liberty and equality; and who can ever henceforth exclude those two bases of progress from the progress of the future? Christianity therefore will endure. Only, behind that formula one seeks for another—the social. Where is the contradiction?Tell me, my Corso, with your hand on your heart. To the arguments which I scatter in my letters, hurried, unconnected, and almost sportive, the true fruit of profound convictions, and which you (permit me to say) shirk a little in your replies, have you anything to oppose? Do not some of the things which I say, if you think them over seriously, cast some doubts on your mind?As to what you cite to me, regarding miracles, and the resurrection of Christ, etc., I will not discuss to-day; but I confess to you, it seems to me strange that you should regard those as being irrevocably proved in history.I say it seriously, some one will come to furbish up my ideas, without knowing that I advocated them. I am more than likely to die without doing this, because I am consciousof my mission, and I know the duration of it—and I know that it is not I who will wage the war. Truth means to run her course, and she will do it; but I shall not lay the foundation-stone of the edifice—I have no future. I have discerned, but it is not given to me to do more; therefore I still devote these my days to a work very inferior to that which my longings would have sought for—the actual production of the instrument. I am neither more nor less than a political revolutionist, and to this I resign myself. Would that I may at least be that, and wrench this Italy that I love out of the mire in which she lies, set her freed face to face with her destinies, and say to her, “Now make them yours.”As you see, I am writing to Gioberti. Writing thus to all and sundry begins to weigh upon me. I have moments ofspleen, of individualism which rebels; and at those moments I seem to myself to be playing the prostitute, and making Italian liberty play the like part. For if you but knew how many letters, and these to intellects so-called, and all useless! But these are moments of irritation, arising out of what I have myself been suffering these three years, and this is more than you suppose, and you know it not, and never will know it. Then I return to myself; and, where I can see any little advantage, any symptom of duty, I submit and write.Hand also the enclosed lines to Tommaseo, who, like others, does not understand me, and does not understand the situation in which we are.Have you seen Libri? You will tell me that I am pertinacious; this is true. But all those who desert me, without any fault of mine against them, and without my being even able to guess the reason, cause me real pain.If you know Malmusi, or can get at any one who knows him, don’t forget to tell him that for the love of God he should reassure me concerning the arrival of certain letters of mine: his silence troubles me.Of politics I say nothing, as I do not mean to speak about them until the first half of the month of October; then I shall have data from which to speak. Meanwhile I repeat to you what I told you.Did you ever see Buonarroti? Do you know where Bianco is? Of him I know nothing of late, and I am anxious to write to him. Do they ever write to you from Turin? What Italians are you acquainted with? Bozzelli?Wish well to yourStrozzi.Put an envelope on the letter to Gioberti. Write to me what reception he gives it. Pray excuse.[102]

Brother,

I have received yours of the 8th. That I should write to you at much length on the subject of yourletter is not possible. You, however, will certainly not suppose that I evade the discussion, nor that I do not set a right value on your convictions, or do not care about them. No indeed; and you are mistaken in fancying that your frankness of speech could ever offend me. If you but knew how the religion of truth is the religion for me! and how much any real conviction inspires me with respect, if not assent! But this is not a question to be disposed of in a few letters; nor have I time, beset as I am by a thousand distractions through my dream of Italian initiative, to enter on a discussion. And, if I ever have time, I shall compose, I confess to you, a whole volume—but I shall never publish it, unless a Republican revolution should have broken out. For the present, I understand this latest reaction in favour of Christianity, and I see it to be necessary, and acknowledge it as useful. A true knowledge of Christianity—its nature, its mission—will follow from this study. Just as, in my view,reformmust naturally precede the securing of independence, liberty, and equality, in political dogma, so do I believe that the political synthesis, or at any rate a glimpse of this synthesis, must, in the new epoch, precede in renovated Europe the manifestation of the religious synthesis of the epoch. Rights were of yore individual; and it was natural that first theindividualshould be emancipated, that theinstrumentshould be formed to acquire an application of those rights in the political department. At the present time the reverse is the case. The question is that of thesocialsynthesis. Theinstrumentis no longer theindividual, but the people. Therefore the people, which is to secure the religious formula, requires to beconstituted: therefore a political revolution before the religious one.

Only, you know what I have always said: like advancedscouts, secret sentinels of human nature,intelligencesmust begin to proclaim that they descry thenew landsand the new law. And therefore I should have supposed you to be among them; and I still believe that you will be among them later on. Meanwhile, as you think that my efforts (and be it observed that I am doing nothing) are to subserve the triumph of Christianity, so do I think that yours are to subserve the triumph of the new synthesis, thesocialsynthesis, philosophy merged into religion: because—I do not deny it—my “harmonized dualism” is precisely this harmonizing of philosophy with religion—two things which hitherto have been at odds, and which will end by coalescing. Yours is, without your perceiving it, an eclecticism and no more. Yourquid tertium, neithercatholicnorprimitive(two distinctions as to which I should have much to say), is an Utopia, or rather a chimera. You don’t perceive that that which you callprimitiveis at bottom nothing except Christianity in the soul, not any social form; that the second epoch—i.e.Catholicism—is rightly the application of Christianity to society; and that the Reformation—a cynical movement, whatever you may say about it—came, in fact, to say of Christianity: “You are not susceptible of any social application, of any national unity, because you are an individualistic formula and no more: stay you in your proper sphere.”

You and I, I perceive, regard the Reformation, and all things, from different points of view.

And now see what is the outcome of the idea, “Christianity is aneternalreligion, an unique religious synthesis.” And what of mankind prior to Christianity? Oh in what sense do you understand God, if you admit that He gave the unique eternal synthesis some thousands of years after the race had been created? And the unity of the mind of God? Aprogressive law at the beginning, and an eternal synthesis later on? But no more of this; you go too far. Believing as I do, with yourself, in continuous progression, there ought to be between us only a question of time, but never a denial of a new synthesis when the time comes.Christianity asserts its perfection and eternity as a fundamental principle: therefore you cannot, without destroying it, say that it is not the whole of truth.But once again, no more of this. Christianity had to profess itself perfect and eternal, and I even admit that. But when did Christianity ever affect to be a social religion?Thatis the question. Christianity is the formula of the individual, and as such is eternal and perfect to my thinking—for that formula is what no one can nullify. It means liberty and equality; and who can ever henceforth exclude those two bases of progress from the progress of the future? Christianity therefore will endure. Only, behind that formula one seeks for another—the social. Where is the contradiction?

Tell me, my Corso, with your hand on your heart. To the arguments which I scatter in my letters, hurried, unconnected, and almost sportive, the true fruit of profound convictions, and which you (permit me to say) shirk a little in your replies, have you anything to oppose? Do not some of the things which I say, if you think them over seriously, cast some doubts on your mind?

As to what you cite to me, regarding miracles, and the resurrection of Christ, etc., I will not discuss to-day; but I confess to you, it seems to me strange that you should regard those as being irrevocably proved in history.

I say it seriously, some one will come to furbish up my ideas, without knowing that I advocated them. I am more than likely to die without doing this, because I am consciousof my mission, and I know the duration of it—and I know that it is not I who will wage the war. Truth means to run her course, and she will do it; but I shall not lay the foundation-stone of the edifice—I have no future. I have discerned, but it is not given to me to do more; therefore I still devote these my days to a work very inferior to that which my longings would have sought for—the actual production of the instrument. I am neither more nor less than a political revolutionist, and to this I resign myself. Would that I may at least be that, and wrench this Italy that I love out of the mire in which she lies, set her freed face to face with her destinies, and say to her, “Now make them yours.”

As you see, I am writing to Gioberti. Writing thus to all and sundry begins to weigh upon me. I have moments ofspleen, of individualism which rebels; and at those moments I seem to myself to be playing the prostitute, and making Italian liberty play the like part. For if you but knew how many letters, and these to intellects so-called, and all useless! But these are moments of irritation, arising out of what I have myself been suffering these three years, and this is more than you suppose, and you know it not, and never will know it. Then I return to myself; and, where I can see any little advantage, any symptom of duty, I submit and write.

Hand also the enclosed lines to Tommaseo, who, like others, does not understand me, and does not understand the situation in which we are.

Have you seen Libri? You will tell me that I am pertinacious; this is true. But all those who desert me, without any fault of mine against them, and without my being even able to guess the reason, cause me real pain.

If you know Malmusi, or can get at any one who knows him, don’t forget to tell him that for the love of God he should reassure me concerning the arrival of certain letters of mine: his silence troubles me.

Of politics I say nothing, as I do not mean to speak about them until the first half of the month of October; then I shall have data from which to speak. Meanwhile I repeat to you what I told you.

Did you ever see Buonarroti? Do you know where Bianco is? Of him I know nothing of late, and I am anxious to write to him. Do they ever write to you from Turin? What Italians are you acquainted with? Bozzelli?

Wish well to your

Strozzi.

Put an envelope on the letter to Gioberti. Write to me what reception he gives it. Pray excuse.[102]

No. 5.—Six Poems by Gabriele Rossetti

[I give here six specimens of my father’s powers as a poet. Setting asideSan Paolo in Malta, which is only an improvise, it may be said that in all these instances the verses rank among his choice things; though many others could be quoted not inferior. The dates which I give may be regarded as correct, unless as to the final sonnet, regarding which I am uncertain.

The lyric,Aurora del 21 Luglio del 1820, was, as I have before said, extremely celebrated in its time; and theAddioalla Patriahas always been an admired piece. TheSan Paolo in Maltais referred to at p. 61, and testifies to Rossetti’s uncommon power as an Improvisatore; being as it is interza rima, each rhyme is triplicated, and thus the improvising effort was all the more arduous.

I leave these poems to the perusal of such readers as are acquainted with Italian. To try to translate them would be little else than to scheme deliberately to spoil them.]

Ad Amore

Alato bambino,

Tiranno de’ cuori,Ch’io segua il camminoChe innanzi m’infiori?Unendomi tecoCh’io veggio sì cieco,Oh quanto sareiPiù cieco di te!

Pur troppo gemei,

Fanciullo inumano!Ma i lacci funestiChe al piè mi cingestiDel Tempo la manoMi sciolse dal piè.

A credulo cuore

Tu scaltro dispensiContento ed ardoreChe inebbriano i sensi:Ma in mezzo al contentoPrepari il tormento;L’ardor ti precede,Ti segue il languor.

Nè l’alma si avvede

Del passo imprudenteChe quando a fuggireLe manca l’ardire,Che quando si senteGià vinta dal cuor.

Quel dì che sul mondo

Vagisti bambino,Un cenno iracondoDel sordo DestinoDi face feraleLa destra immortaleDi penne funesteIl dorso ti armò.

Le penne son queste,

O nume fallace,Che a Pari infedeleGonfiaron le vele,E questa è la faceChe Troia bruciò.

Tu godi, o tiranno,

Di sparger la terraDi gioia, d’affanno,Di pace, di guerra;Ma finta è la pace,La guerra è verace,

L’affanno rimane,

La gioia sen va.Insidie sì straneCi ordisci, ci tendi,Che a render prigioneL’augusta Ragione,Tuoi complici rendiIngegno e Beltà.

Chi crede a’ tuoi detti

Ne attenda la fine;Le rose promettiPer dargli le spine:Ben sento che giovaSaperlo per prova;Ma troppo al mio cuore

Tal prova costò.

La via del doloreIo teco calcava;Ma in mezzo del corsoIntesi il RimorsoCheferma, gridava,Ma tardi gridò.

Quel giorno che il velo

Mi cadde dal ciglio,Rimasi di geloScorgendo il periglio:Sul velo squarciato,Sul laccio spezzato,Il canto innalzai

Di mia libertà.

Ah libero omaiDal giogo abborrito,Sull’ara tua stessaCrollata, depressa,Innalzo pentitoL’altar d’Amistà.

1813.

Versi d’Amore

Dal tuo leggiadro viso

Il mio destin dipende:D’ugual desio mi accende

Il tuo desio.

Dal labbro tuo soltanto

Ha questo labbro il riso:

Ha dal tuo ciglio il pianto

Il ciglio mio.

1814.

Aurora del 21 Luglio del 1820

Sei pur bella cogli astri sul crine

Che scintillan quai vivi zaffiri,È pur dolce quel fiato che spiri,

Porporina foriera del dì.

Col sorriso del pago desioTu ci annunzii dal balzo vicinoChe d’Italia nell’almo giardinoIl servaggio per sempre finì.

Il rampollo d’Enrico e di Carlo,

Ei ch’ad ambo cotanto somiglia,Oggi estese la propria famiglia,E non servi ma figli bramò.

Volontario distese la mano

Sul volume de’ patti segnati;E il volume de’ patti giuratiDella patria sull’ara posò.

Una selva di lance si scosse

All’invito del bellico squillo,Ed all’ombra del sacro vessilloUn sol voto discorde non fù.

E fratelli si strinser le mani,

Dauno, Irpino, Lucano, Sannita;Non estinta ma solo sopitaEra in essi l’antica virtù.

Ma qual suono di trombe festive!

Chi s’avanza fra cento coorti?Ecco il forte che riede tra i forti,[103]Che la patria congiunse col re!

Oh qual pompa! Le armate falangi

Sembran fiumi che inondin le strade!Ma su tante migliaia di spadeUna macchia di sangue non v’è.

Lieta scena! Chi plaude, chi piange,

Chi diffonde vïole e giacinti,Vincitori confusi coi vintiAvvicendano il bacio d’amor!

Dalla reggia passando al tugurio

Non più finta la gioia festeggia;Dal tugurio tornando alla reggiaQuella gioia si rende maggior.

Genitrici de’ forti campioni

Convocati dal sacro stendardo,Che cercate col pavido sguardo?Non temete, chè tutti son quì.

Non ritornan da terra nemica,

Istrumenti di regio misfatto,Ma dal campo del vostro riscatto,Dove il ramo di pace fiorì.

O beata fra tante donzelle,

O beata la ninfa che vedeFra que’ prodi l’amante che riedeTutto sparso di nobil sudor!

Il segreto dell’alma pudica

Le si affaccia sul volto rosato,Ed il premio finora negatoLa bellezza prepara al valor.

Cittadini, posiamo sicuri

Sotto l’ombra de’ lauri mietuti,Ma coi pugni sui brandi temutiStiamo in guardia del patrio terren.

Nella pace prepara la guerra

Chi da saggio previene lo stolto:Ci sorrida la pace sul volto,Ma ci frema la guerra nel sen.

Che guardate, gelosi stranieri?

Non uscite dai vostri burroni,Chè la stirpe dei prischi leoniPiù nel sonno languente non è.

Adorate le vostre catene;

Chi v’invidia cotanto tesoro?Ma lasciate tranquilli coloroChe disdegnan sentirsele al piè.

Se verrete, le vostre consorti,

Imprecando ai vessilli funesti,Si preparin le funebri vesti,Chè speranza per esse non v’ha.

Sazierete la fame de’ corvi,

Mercenarie falangi di schiavi;In chi pugna pe’ dritti degli aviDivien cruda la stessa pietà.

Una spada di libera mano

È saetta di Giove tonante,Ma nel pugno di servo tremanteCome canna vacilla l’acciar.

Fia trionfo la morte per noi,

Fia ruggito l’estremo sospiro;Le migliaia di Persia fuggiro,I trecento di Sparta restâr!

E restaron coi brandi ne’ pugni

Sopra mucchi di corpi svenati,E que’ pugni, quantunque gelati,Rassembravan disposti a ferir.

Quello sdegno passava nel figlio

Cui fù culla lo scudo del padre,Ed al figlio diceva la madre,“Quest’esempio tu devi seguir.”

O tutrice dei dritti dell’uomo,

Che sorridi sul giogo spezzato,È pur giunto quel giorno beatoChe un monarca t’innalza l’altar!

Tu sul Tebro fumante di sangue

Passeggiavi qual nembo fremente,Ma serena qual’alba ridenteSul Sebeto t’assidi a regnar.

Una larva col santo tuo nome

Quì sen venne con alta promessa;Noi, credendo che fossi tu stessa,Adorammo la larva di te:

Ma, nel mentre fra gl’inni usurpati

Sfavillava di luce fallace,Ella sparve qual sogno fugace,Le catene lasciandoci al piè.

Alla fine tu stessa venisti

Non ombrata da minimo velo,Ed un raggio disceso dal cieloSulla fronte ti veggio brillar.

Coronata di gigli perenni,

Alla terra servendo d’esempio,Tu scegliesti la reggia per tempio,Ove il trono ti serve d’altar.

1820.

Addio alla Patria

Nella notte più serenaEra in ciel la luna piena:Neve il dorso e fiamma il crinRiflettea dal mar vicinIl Vesèvo che grandeggiaCome reggia—di Vulcan:D’arme grave—anglica naveTrascorrea l’equoreo pian.

Quando il profugo cantore,La cui colpa è il patrio amore,Atteggiato di martir,Schiuse il labbro ad un sospirE qual flebile usignuolo,Il suo duolo—a disfogar,Dal naviglio—volse il ciglioLa sua terra a salutar.

O Partenope, egli dice,O Partenope infelice,Di tua gloria il chiaro dìQuasi al nascere morì!Ah dal cor t’indrizzo i carmiNel sottrarmi—a reo poter,E nel bando—miserandoSarai sempre il mio pensier!

Rè fellon che ci tradisti,Tu rapisci e non racquisti:Maledetto, o rè fellon,Sii dall’austro all’aquilon!Maledetto ogni malnatoChe ha tramato—insiem con te!Maledetto—ogni soggettoChe ti lambe il sozzo piè!

Ti sien contro in ogni locoCielo e terra, mare e foco,Nè dien tregua a un infedelFoco e mare, terra e ciel!Sì, ti faccian sempre guerraCielo e terra—foco e mar!Ti stia scritto—il tuo delittoSulla mensa e sull’altar!

Traditor, da quel momentoChe infrangesti il giuramento,Cento stili, o traditor,Tendon’ avidi al tuo cor...Deh frenate il santo sdegno,Non n’è degno—un cor brutal,E saetta—di vendettaTenga il luogo del pugnal!

Che pel fulmine di DioDe’ suoi falli ei paghi il fio,Ma di Bruto il sacro stilOnorar non dee quel vil!No, non abbia il vil la gloriaChe la storia—dica un dì:Il nefando—FerdinandoCome Cesare perì!

Mesta Italia, io ti saluto:Qual momento hai tu perduto!Quel momento, o Dio, chi sàSe mai più ritornerà?Già sorgea ringiovanitaL’impigrita—tua virtù...Come mai—tornar potraiAl languor di servitù?

Deh perchè non farla, o Sorte,O men bella, o almen più forte?L’astringesti ad invocarLo straniero infido acciar,Onde o vinta o vincitriceL’infelice—ognor servì,E impugnando—estraneo brandoSè medesma ognor ferì.

Ah crudel, se a questa terraFar volevi eterna guerra,Perchè darle poi, crudel,Questo suolo e questo ciel?Quì le vergini di GioveTutte e nove—apriro il vol,Quì sfavilla—la scintillaChe Prometeo tolse al sol.

Surse quì la face aurataSull’Europa ottenebrata,E l’Europa a quel fulgorSi scotea dal suo torpor.Cento doti, Italia bella,Lieta stella—a te largì;Ahi t’invola—quella solaChe ti fea regina un dì!

Libertà, tu fuggi? Ed io...Io ti seguo; Italia, addio!Libertà, non mai da te,Mai non fia ch’io torca il piè!Oh se un dì farai ritorno,In quel giorno—anch’io verrò;Ma infelice—il cor mi diceChe mai più non tornerò!

Sì dicea; ma l’igneo monteDecrescea nell’orizzonte,E la luna in mezzo al cielS’era ascosa in grigio vel.Par che stia con veste oscuraLa Natura—a dolorar,Par lamento—il flebil vento,Par singulto il rotto mar.

Addio, terra sventurata!...Ma la terra era celata.Ei nel duol che l’aggravòChinò ’l capo e singhiozzò.Ahi l’amor della sua terra,Ahi qual guerra—in sen gli fà!Infelice!—il cor gli diceChe mai più non tornerà!

24 Giugno 1821.

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