not only in order to reduce it to the rank of false poetry, according to the first type described, which is the fable, but also, and above all, in order to reduce it to a key-story, and have seen the author's life there transfigured beneath the veil of the prodigious. Chamisso, as is well known, was a French emigrant become German and Germanized so completely as to be the author of Lieder and romances, taking an interest later in life in botany, and making several journeys for scientific purposes. We have no wish to contend that there may be some autobiographical references in Peter Schlemihl; but since German critics, as remarked above, strangely abuse the right of poetical-biographical researches, with no other result than to diminish poetry where poetry exists, it is worth while to repeat once more the only doctrine which avails upon this subject, because it is the only true doctrine. The work of art, then, like the work of thought, certainly receives its impulse from biographical incidents, but is as impossible to measure by comparison with them as is the law of the pendulum with the famous lamp of Pisa Cathedral, or the law of universal attraction with the apple that fell upon Newton's head, when he was lying under the fine apple-tree. The critics who stress so heavily those incidents, which have been converted into poetical vibrations, reconvert the poetical vibration into practical fact, and then proceed to erect it into the generative poetical motive. The results of this upon taste and judgment can easily be conceived. They become the more pernicious the more beautiful, objective, and classical are the works upon which is effected this labour of extraction and abstraction; the less pernicious the more ugly and material are the works in question, because, in this

second case, they are wont to contain more aggregated elements which have not been fused, reproduced but not idealized, and to extract and abstract these merely makes evident the analysis which already exists in the work itself.

F

VII

WALTER SCOTT

ANY writer belonging to the first half of the past century and treating of the then recent literary history of Europe, would not have hesitated to place Walter Scott among the stars of the first magnitude in the firmament of poetry and art, Walter Scott the great Scottish poet and novelist. The admiration which he received was nowhere contested; his work spread itself triumphantly through all countries, and everywhere aroused imitators; rarely has a writer had so many or so eminent pupils. This praise and enthusiasm did not proceed from middle-class readers alone, from the great public: suffice it to recall Goethe, who held Scott to be "a great mind unequalled anywhere, who naturally produces the most extraordinary effects upon the whole world of readers." The comparison of Scott with Shakespeare, with whom alone it seemed possible to compare him for " fertility of invention, for the infinite variety of his original characters, historical scenes, situations, and adventures, for his universal human sympathy and moral purity," was common, especially in his own country.

Then all this glory faded. Here in Italy only a few stray volumes were reprinted in the second half of the century as forming part of the library of agreeable literature, in place of the numerous translations and complete editions of his tales and of some of his

poems which had filled the first half of the century. Forgetfulness and estrangement took the place of frequent mention of his characters and their actions in speech and writing. The criticism of the critics showed itself hard, ferocious, and contemptuous, especially after Taine's well-known attack. A similar tone has recently been observable in Cecchi's book entitled History of English Literature. It is, indeed, difficult to refrain from impatience in speaking of those tales, after having read them. There are too many of them, and the effort entailed upon the reader of to-day, who is at once sensible of the monotony of Scott's art and of his mechanical method, finds vent in the angry tone with which he proceeds to discuss them. Were there but two or three tales, how much easier would it be to remain calm and indulgent! How eagerly would one seek their positive qualities, carefully noting the minute flashes of art which here and there illuminate them!

Yet we must retain our calm, if we wish to apply to Scott's work also the laws of historical style. Imposing, therefore, upon ourselves the requisite serenity of tone, we observe that in speaking of Scott we must in the first place have an eye to the official function which he performed, namely, that of an industrial producer, intent upon supplying the market with objects for which the demand was as keen as the want was legitimate. Are there or are there not wants of the imagination, which ask to be entertained or diverted? And is not that a healthy form of such wants which demand images of virtue, of prowess, of generous feelings, and wishing also to avoid wasting its time in this imaginative gratification, seeks also to avail itself of the opportunity in order to obtain

instruction as to historical customs and events? Scott had the genius to carry out the commercial enterprise which supplied this want. He began by composing poems, which were a first step towards its satisfaction. But after some years of this practice, he realized that this kind of merchandise was beginning to pall, that the vein he had exploited was exhausted, especially since the appearance of Byron, who was a dangerous competitor for popular esteem. He thereupon turned from verse to prose, surrounded his name with mystery as "the Author of the Waverley Novels," and obtained a most brilliant success, which lasted throughout his career. The impression left upon reading Scott's biography is that of having before one the life of a hero of industry. His biographers illustrate and admire his sagacity of invention, his diligence, which enabled him to write two or three stories every year, the castle which he was able to build, to decorate and to throw open to princely hospitality as the result of his large earnings. Nothing is said as to his inner life, his loves, his religion, his ideas; less than nothing as to his spiritual struggles and development. The dramatic moment of his biography is that of his publisher-partner's failure, whereby Scott found himself ruined and several millions of lire in debt. He rises high above this moment of adversity, does not lose courage, again takes pen in hand and promises to pay all his creditors by this means, exhausts himself in maintaining his promise, and when he is at length crushed by the weight of this immense labour, the greater part of his debt is paid and the remainder discharged after his death by a grateful posterity. This national movement may have been in commemoration of the great writer or of the great man of business