family of Guinicelli, and died in 1276. It is of him that Dante says "He was father to me, and to those my betters, who have ever used the sweet and pleasant rhymes of love

His dulcet lays, as long

As of our tongue the beauty does not fade,

Shall make us love the very ink that traced them."

Dante was not a critic to lavish his praises; he never flattered the living, and why should he flatter the dead? Still we doubt whether his praises would be justified by any of the known pieces of Guido Guinicelli. The following stanza is part of a canzone on the loss of his mistress.

Conforto già conforto l'amor chiama,
E pietà prega per Dio, fatti resto;
Or y' inchinate a sì dolce preghiera ;
Spogliatevi di questa vesta grama,
Da che voi sete per ragion richiesto.
Che l'uomo per dolor more e dispera.
Con voi vedeste poi la bella ciera.
Si v'accogliesse morte in disperanza,
De si grave pesanza

Traete il vostro cor ormai per Dio,
Che non sia cosi rio

Ver l'alma vostra che ancora spiera
Vederla in ciel e star nelle sue braccia,
Dunque spene dè confortar vi piaccia.

"Comfort thee, comfort thee," exclaimeth Love;
And Pity by thy God adjures thee-"rest."
Oh then incline thee to such gentle prayer!
Nor Reason's plea should ineffectual prove,
Who bids thee lay aside this dismal vest :

For man meets death through sadness and despair.
Amongst you ye have seen a face so fair :-

Be this in mortal mourning some relief,

And for more balm of grief,

Rescue thy spirit from its heavy load,

Remembering thy God;

And that in heaven thou hop'st again to share

In sight of her, and with thine arms to fold,

Hope then; nor of this comfort quit thy hold.-Carey.

Allowing for the imperfect state of the language, the versification and style convey with sufficient clearness the ideas; and these are at once elevated without being far-fetched, and natural without being common. Pathos, however, belongs to all time, and may be expressed in every language; yet we find nothing but coldness in the verses of Guinicelli. In this perhaps we are wrong, since Mr. Carey has thought them worthy, precisely for their pathos, to be inserted among those extracts of early poetry with which he has enriched his translation of Dante. It is probable, however, that the best pieces of Guinicelli have not come down to our times. Another Guido, of the family of Ghisilieri, and his fellow-citizen, appears to have been his formidable rival in poetry; but the Guido who "snatched from him the lettered prize" was a Florentine, the son of a philosopher and statesman, and a character still interesting to poets, critics, historians, and philosophers, and one who seemed born to exercise a vast influence over his contemporaries, and to be remembered by posterity not so much for any great achievement,

or any distinguished production of his genius, as for an union of accidents, a rare assemblage of various talents, and above all, for that inexplicable ascendancy of character which always commands admiration. True or false, it was believed at that time, and the documents are still referred to, that his ancestors came into Italy with Charlemagne, who endowed them with titles and estates.

This last Guido was born in what Mr. Sismondi justly calls the heroic age of Tuscany. The Ghibelline party, composed of the feudal aristocracy, having been expelled from Florence by the Guelphs, who upheld the popular government, the nobles of the Tuscan cities united their forces, and, led on by Farinata, a Florentine nobleman of exalted soul and great military genius, defeated the Guelphs with great slaughter. After the victory they assembled a council, where it was agreed by all, that to maintain the power of their party, it was necessary to destroy Florence. Farinata alone dared to oppose the general decree, and saved his native city. To re-establish peace among his fellow-citizens, he gave his daughter in marriage to Guido, son of Cavalcante Cavalcanti, the leader of the popular party.

This, however, did not restrain Guido from attacking several of the opposite faction, whom he accidently encountered on horseback; and though wounded in the affray, yet such were the apprehensions his character inspired, that during his pilgrimage to St. Jago in Spain, his adversaries attempted to assassinate him. This pilgrimage, however, was with Guido, (and, perhaps, with others of that age,) a name which meant nothing more than a tour: indeed, he returned from his devotional expedition enamoured of a young woman of Tolosa, whom he calls Mandetta, and celebrates in strains that do not always seem inspired by a platonic sentiment.

In un boschetto trovai pastorella

Più che la stella bella al mio parere.
Capegli avea biondetti, e ricciutelli,
E gli occhi pien d'amor, cera rosata:
Con sua verghetta pasturava agnelli;
E scabra, e di rugiada era bagnata:
Cantava come fosse innamorata,
Era adornata di tutto piacere.
D'amor la salutai immantenente,
E domandai, s'avesse compagnia:
Ed ella mi rispose dolcemente,
Che sola sola per lo bosco gia:
E disse: sappi, quando l' augel pia;
Allor disia lo mio cor drudo avere.
Poichè mi disse di sua condizione,
E per lo bosco augelli udio cantare,
Fra me stessa dicea: or è stagione
Di questa pastorella gioi' pigliare :
Mercè le chiesi, sol che di baciare,
E d'abbracciare fosse 'l suo volere.
Per man mi preso d' amorosa voglia,
E disse, che donato m' avea 'l core:
Menommi sotto una freschetta foglia,
Là dov' io vidi fior d'ogni colore:
E tanto vi sentio gioi', e dolore,
Che Dio d' Amor mi parve ivi vedere.

In the depth of a thicket a maiden I found,
More fair than the stars of the sky to my sight;
Her delicate curls in a fillet were bound,

And her cheek was all freshness, her eyes all delight.
With a crook she was guarding her lambkins from roving,
Her dear little feet were all gemm'd with the dew;
And she carolled a lay-so light-hearted and loving,
That caught even Pleasure, as round her he flew.

I gazed, till enchanted I sprang to her side,

And besought her to say where her mates had all flown ;"Alas," and she blushed as she softly replied,

"I roam through the thickets alone-all alone!

"And whene'er-would you think it?—I hear the blithe singing
"Of birds as they flutter from bushlet to tree,

"Then deep in my bosom soft wishes are springing;

"But no one," she whispered, "comes singing to me."

The elder Cavalcanti bore the reputation of having pushed the study of philosophy to heresy, and even to disbelief in the immortality of the soul; and it would seem that the son carried his scepticism still farther. Those who are interested in the history of religious opinions, we would refer to the Dictionary of Bayle, art. Cavalcanti; for ourselves, we are more willingly gratified with literature and manners, and believe that our object will be better attained by introducing here an anecdote concerning Guido, detailed by Boccaccio :

"Now you must know, that in times past there were many very pleasant and praiseworthy usages in this fair city, of which none remain in our days, thanks to the avarice which has grown up with our wealth and has destroyed them all. There was one of this kind: In different places about Florence the gentry were used to assemble in companies of a certain number, being careful to include such only as could afford the necessary expense. It was their wont, each in his turn, to provide a feast for the whole company, whereunto they invited such strangers of note as might chance to sojourn in the city, and sometimes even did they honour the citizens. Moreover, once, if not oftener, in the year, they cloathed themselves in fresh and like apparel; and on some festival, or other notable day, as when the joyful tidings of any victory had arrived, did they ride gallantly armed through the city. Of these companies one there was of Messer Betto Brunelleschi, who with his comrades were much desirous to have among them Guido, son of Messer Cavalcante de' Cavalcanti; and with good reason, for besides that he was one of the best logicians that the world had, and very famous in philosophy, (of which things, to speak advisedly, the companies took small account) so was he very agreeable in his speech and well-mannered in his actions, and knew better than any other, what rightly pertained to a cavalier; he was very rich withall, and gracious in his address to such as he wished to please. But Messer Betto could never succeed to get him amongst them; whereupon he thought that, because Guido was often given to speculations, therefore he liked not to commune with men. It was whispered too, among the commonalty, that he held to the opinions of Epicurus, and that his speculations aimed to prove that there existed no God. It came to pass upon a day, that Guido having gone out from his dwelling in San

Michele, and through the Adimari, which was his accustomed route, unto San Giovanni, where were many great arches of marble (such as are now in Santa Reparata), he staid to muse between the columns of porphyry and these arches, the gate of San Giovanni being shut. Now Messer Betto with his company journeying on horseback through the piazza of Santa Reparata, discovered Guido among the sepulchres, whereupon he said to his companions, 'Let us break a jest with him,' and giving spurs to their horses they came upon him unawares, crying out, Ho, there, Master Guido, since thou dost refuse to be one of our company, what wilt thou do when thou hast assured thyself there is no God? Whereto Guido, seeing that he was enclosed by them, answered readily,- Signors, in your own houses ye may speak as ye list,' and placing his hand on one of the great arches he vaulted nimbly to the other side and went on his way. Then stood they staring one on the other, and began to say, 'Of a surety he is distracted, for his speech lacketh meaning, inasmuch as we have no more concern with these sepulchres than the other citizens and Guido among them.' To the which replied Messer Betto, 'Ye are the distracted, that ye have not comprehended his words, which, though very civil, are indeed very pithy, and the greatest reproach in the world. See ye not that these arches are the houses of the dead, because they are put here to dwell forever? whereby he would indicate that we and the other simple and unlearned men are but as the dead in comparison with him and great scholars, and therefore, being here, that we are in our own houses.' Then comprehended each man the sense of Guido's speech, and took shame upon himself; nor did they in after-time break any jest with Guido, and they looked upon Messer Betto as a cavalier of a very subtle and excellent wit."

The character of Guido Cavalcanti was so strongly marked, that his fellow-citizens and the historians of his times all agreed in their manner of pourtraying it. "He was," says Villani, "for a philosopher, skilful in many pursuits; but somewhat too irritable and harsh." Dino, another eye-witness, speaks of him as "courteous and ardent, though scornful, solitary, and immersed in study ;" and Dante himself, who possessed, in an uncommon degree, the same good and bad qualities, called him "his first friend," yielded with deference to his literary opinions, and stood in awe of his remonstrances. During an access of idle melancholy, to which in his youth he was often liable from his too strong feelings, he was severely reproached by Guido in these lines:

Io vengo il giorno a te infinite volte

E trovoti pensar troppo vilmente:
Molto mi duol della gentil tua monte
E d'assai tue vertù, che ti son tolte.
Solevati spiacer persone molte ;
Tuttor fuggivi la noiosa gente:
Di me parlavi si coralmente,
Che tutte le tue rime avea accolte.
Or non mi ardisco, per la vil tua vita,

Far dimostranza ch'l tuo dir mi piaccia;
Ne 'n guisa vegno a te, che tu mi veggi.

Whene'er I visit thee day after day,

Thy thoughts, thy wishes, all debased I find :
And oh what grief to see that noble mind,
And all thy various virtues, fade away.
I knew thee when thy scorn in withering ray
Fell blasting on the mean and idle crew:

And when of me thou spok'st with friendship true-
Of me, who loved so well thy lofty lay.

'Tis past, and I despise thee:-now, I dare

Not own how once I loved thee with a pride

That honour'd both;-henceforth my only care

Will be thy loathed presence to avoid.

We are indebted to Mr. Hayley for a spirited version of the following playful sonnet, addressed by Dante to Guido.

Guido vorrei, che tu, e Lappo, ed io
Fossimo presi per incantamento,

E messi ad un vassel, ch' ad ogni vento
Per mare andasse a voler vostro, e mio;
Sicchè fortuna, od altro tempo rio,

Non ci potesse dare impedimento:
Anzi vivendo sempre in noi talento
Di stare insieme crescesse 'l desio.
E Monna Vanna, e Monna Bice poi,
Con quella ch'è 'n sul numer delle trenta,
Con noi ponesse il buono incantatore:

E quivi ragionar sempre d'amore:
E ciascuna di lor fosse contenta,
Siccome i' credo, che saremo noi,

Guido! I wish that you, Lappo, and I,

By some sweet spell within a bark were placed,
A gallant bark with magic virtue graced,
Swift at our will with every wind to fly;

So that no changes of the shifting sky,

No stormy terrors of the watery waste,

Might bar our course, but heighten still our taste

Of sprightly joy and of our social tie:

Then that my Bice, Bice fair and free,

With those soft nymphs, on whom your souls are bent,
The kind magician might to us convey,

To talk of love throughout the livelong day;
And that each fair might be as well content,
As I in truth believe our hearts would be.

Philip Villani, the son and nephew of the two Florentine historians, in giving the earliest example of literary history and criticism, confirmed the decision of the learned in his age, who pronounced the lyric pieces of Guido equal to those of Dante. Indeed the energy and originality which form the two characteristics of Dante's genius appear still more strongly in the lyrics of Guido, but always deformed by a primitive rudeness, which Dante, who was born twenty years later, more successfully avoided. Guido found the art in its infancy, and in raising it to adolescence, displayed greater force than skill; but in the productions of Dante strength and address marched with an equal step, and in tempering the harshness incident to all early poetry, he had the sagacity to choose the style of Virgil as his model. Besides,