Abbildungen der Seite
PDF
EPUB
[ocr errors]

about it before God? Very well : 'since you do ask it thus, I cannot deny that I did do such a thing.'"He was almost mad with passion; " and yet, religion so prevailed over "him, that it extorted from him so "painful a confession."

"In the same letter, Fenelon also observes, that the force of religion was so great in him, " that he never knew him, except in mo"ments of irritation, entertain a single thought which was not "strictly conformable to reason and "to the purest maxims of the gos"pel."

"It must not be supposed, however, that in thus attending to religious duties, he was suffered to neglect his literary studies. It was Fenelon's object to make his pupil a pious and an enlightened prince; he wished him to ascend the throne with all the virtues of christianity, and with all the knowledge necessary to govern an extensive empire. It was with this view that he endeavoured to instil, into the mind of the prince, an ample acquaintance with ancient and modern history. He had, himself, made this branch of knowledge a particular study. It appears, from a letter to the Duke de Beauvilliers, that, before being entrusted with the education of the Duke of Burgundy, Fenelon had written an abridgment of the life of Charlemagne, and from what he has disclosed of the principles and plan upon which he proceeded in drawing up this historical work, it cannot but be regretted that it is irrecoverably lost. It is evident, from this letter to the Duke de Beauvilliers, that Fenelon wrote this work from some motives that have hitherto remained a secret, though they were known to the Duke. "I am persuaded," says he," that the life of Charlemagne

"will be of much use to us in giv. "ing to the Duke of Burgundy, "those sentiments and those max"ims with which he ought to be "familiar. You know, however, "that when I made this abridgment "of the life of Charlemagne, I had "not the most distant idea of being "concerned with his education; and no one can better declare, than yourself, how I came to write that "work. My intentions were candid "and upright. No one can read it "without seeing, that I go plainly "forwards, and, perhaps, too much

[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]
[ocr errors][merged small]
[ocr errors]
[merged small][ocr errors][merged small]
[ocr errors]

proper to serve as a model in all "ages. There is a pleasure, even, "in beholding some imperfections "mixed with so many virtues and "talents. It teaches us that he is "not a hero of the imagination, "like those of romances, who, by "being perfect, become fabulous."

"Fenelon adds, afterwards, a very judicious reflection, and one which is too little attended to, when we read the history of those rude ages, the great men of which are less to be censured for those errors which we are apt to consider as their own, than to be pitied, as living at a period when the manners of the times rendered it almost impossible, that they should be exempt from them. "Perhaps," says he,

" many

[ocr errors]

many things may be discovered "in Charlemagne which will not "please; but, it may be, that he "is not to blame, and our disgust " arises from the extreme difference "between our own times and those "in which he lived. The advan"tage which he possessed of being "a Christian, places him above all "the heroes of Pagan antiquity, " and the circumstance of being always successful in his enterprises, "renders him a more interesting "model than St. Louis."

"When Fenelon thought that the Duke of Burgundy had made sufficient progress in the study of ancient and modern history, he conceived the design of recalling to hin, successively, all the principal personages who have distinguished themselves on the theatre of the world. In doing this, he would not only invigorate his memory, with regard to the events in which these individuals were concerned, but he intended also to fix the attention of the young prince on their real and undisguised merits. He was anxi ous, that his pupil should not be dazzled by that kind of illusive renown, which accompanies the me mory of celebrated men.

To accomplish this, Fenelon wrote his Dialogues of the Dead. They were produced, in proportion

as the Duke of Burgundy made such progress with historical authors and facts, as enabled him to derive from them a due advantage. These dialogues are well known, and any particular observations upon them would be superfluous. Yet, it may be permitted to advert to the singular variety of subjects which Fenelon has chosen. From a casual inspection of the work, it might be supposed that he had resigned him. self wholly to his imagination, or, in choosing his subjects, he had employed those which were most obviously contrasted. Such, however, was not the case. If we accurately examine the book, we shall easily perceive, that its author was actuated by one prevailing motive, which was, the education of his pupil. This object was constantly present to him, and his attention to it may be traced even in those Dialogues, which appear to have the least connection with the duties of a prince destined to ascend the throne. Such are the two dialogues between Parthasius and Poussin, and between Leonardi de Vinci and Poussin. But Fenelon knew, that a king, and above all, a king of France, should neither be ignorant of, nor indifferent to, the progress of the fine arts."*

"It is to the biographer of the celebrated Mignard, (the Abbé de Monville) that we are indebted for the following fact. Mignard's situation as first painter to his Ma jesty, necessari required him to be much at Versailles: "and" says Monville, "Fe"nelon used frequently to surprise him at his work, and discourse with him upon "painting. He also took every opportunity of shewing him the great esteem and fespect which he entertained for him."

CHARACTER

"THE

CHARACTER AND MERITS OF TORQUATO Tasso.

[From Mr. BLACK'S LIFE OF HIM.

HE person of Tasso has been described by Manso, with a detail, which, though somewhat too minute, it would serve little

[ocr errors]

purpose to abridge. "Torquato Tasso," says he, was a man of "stature so lofty, that, among men "of large size, he might have been "considered as one of the bulkiest "and best proportioned. His com"plexion had been exceedingly fair, "but, first, studies and vigils, and "afterwards, disasters and infirmi"ties, had made him somewhat "pale. The colour of his hair and "beard was a medium, between "brown and fair; in such a way, "however, that the former was "somewhat darker than the latter; "but that of both was soft, and “smooth, and fine. His head was large, and raised both in the fore"head, and in the hinder part, "which the Greeks call occiput; in "the middle, however, above each "temple, it was rather depressed "than round. His forehead was large and square, first rising to "the middle, and afterwards inclining to the hair, which latter "time had in a great degree re"moved, and rendered him almost "bald. His eye-brows were well arched, dark, scanty, and dis'joined. His eyes were large in proportion to his head, round in themselves, but somewhat length"ened in the corners; their pupils "were of a moderate size, their "colour of a brilliant blue, such as "Homer attributes to Pallas; in "their gaze and motions, they were "grave and staid, and sometimes 1810.

"

[ocr errors]

66

"

[merged small][ocr errors][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][ocr errors]

portioned, his head elevated, his "breast and shoulders broad and "full, his arms long, free, and

[ocr errors]

sinewy, his hands were very large, "but soft and delicate, his fingers "such as could easily bend back, "His legs and feet were also long "and well proportioned, but more "muscular than fleshy; and indeed "his whole body was lean, though "suitable in thickness to the height "of his figure. His whole limbs. "were so active, that, in exercises "of chivalry, he was very expert, " and in fencing, riding, or tilting, "needed envy no one. All these..

D

"thing;

[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]

"

1

"things, however, he performed "with more ability than grace, as "the vivacity of his natural, by no means corresponded with that "of his animal spirits. For this reason, likewise, in the public "orations which he pronounced in "different academies, and in the presence of great princes, his sen"timents appeared to the audience "much more wonderful than the "manner in which they were de"livered; perhaps, because his "mind, collecting, by its couti"nual speculations, the better part "of the spirits to the brain, it did "not leave a sufficient quantity in "the rest of the body to animate "and enliven it. Nevertheless, in "all his actions, and even when "doing nothing, he discovered, to "the most careless observer, "manly grace and beauty, especi"ally in his countenance, which was resplendent with such ma"jesty, that it induced every beholder, previous to any know"ledge of his merits, to hold him, "from his aspect only, in the great"est reverence."

66

a

"Such is the portrait of Tasso, as minute as if drawn by a lover of his mistress. Like the lover, also, Manso conceals some of the circumstances in which nature had been less favourable to the object of his admiration. The sight of Tasso was dim and weak, so that he was almost purblind; a circumstance which may have been occasioned by his continual reading both of books, and of his own small, and almost illegible writing. This near-sightedness is indeed acquired by most literary men in a greater or less degree. Our poet also stammered somewhat, as I have already mentioned, so that he could not speak with much grace or quickness.

"In his dress this illustrious man

[ocr errors]

was extremely simple. His com mon habit, even in his youth, was black; without those fantastic ornaments usual in that age. He had generally, likewise, only one suit; but, though his dress was simple, it was far from slovenly. He was fond of white and fine linen, of which he loved to make large provision, and which he wore plain, without lace or broidery. I mention these things merely as 1 find them, without any plan of building upon them a superstructure of admiration, or examining whether, if the poet had been tricked and frounced,' he would have been worthy of less distinction as a man and writer. As to food, be wa extremely temperate, but "loved,” says Serassi, "things sweet to the 66 taste, such as candied fruits, cakes, and sweetmeats, and made

66

66

a plentiful use of sugar even to "his salad." His dislike to any thing bitter approached to horror, so that, notwithstanding his indispositions, he could scarcely be prevailed upon to take any medicine, of which the taste was disagreeable. I am sensible these remarks must seem trivial; but even the most trifling circumstances connected with great men are interesting, and have perhaps their value; for who can say (for example) whether there be not a close relation between sensation and sentiment, between natural delicacy of organic and intellectual taste? In drinking, Tasso was less temperate than in food; at least this was the case after his distemper, and might probably be pro duced by that event, and resorted to for the purpose of expelling dejection. He loved, he tells us, such wines as were sweet and piquant. Above all, says Brusoni, (who, however, is an apocryphal writer,) he was fond of good Malmsey, and was

accustomed

accustomed to say, that Malmsey filled him with poetical inspiration. "The conversation of Tasso, though no doubt sensible and judicious, does not appear to have been gay or brilliant. His soul was naturally lofty, his conceptions elevated, his look pensive, and his -manners dignified; and, upon the whole, he had too large a portion of what Milton calls a tragic sad'ness and gravity.' This might indeed be in some measure attributed to his misfortunes; but, though his Aminta discovers wit and liveliness, I am doubtful if he ever possessed much of that mobility of imagination, that facility, that rapidity, that abandonment, and gaiety, which give a charm to social intercourse. Gravity, indeed, was, in the age and country of Tasso, numbered among the virtues, and in the eulogy of any illustrious man, is mentioned as one of his most commendable qualities. Notwithstanding, however, the esteem in which it was held, it is not imprecable that some of the ladies of that age were of the opinion of the Marchioness in Goldoni's comedy, who, speaking of our poet, thus contrasts his writings and conversation:

[blocks in formation]

before Tasso was born. It was usual indeed for a biographical writer in those times, to pillage Plutarch, or Diogenes Laertius, for good things to put into the mouth of his hero; a practice "from which Machiavel could not abstain in his short detail of the life even of an illiterate soldier, Castruccio Castracani. In the ages of pedantry, it is true, it is not improbable, that many of the sayings of the old philosophers might have been repeated as their own by the learned men of the time; and that an Italian or German sage might make his hearers occasionally wise, or merry, with an apophthegin, or jest, of Diogenes or Socrates.

"One of the best of the sayings mentioned by Manso, is the following, which has, moreover, an air of authenticity. Some Neapolitan gentlemen investigating, in presence of our poet, which is the most beautiful stanza in his Jerusalem, Salvator Pasqualoni, a lawyer, and excellent writer of verses, recited and gave the preference to that which begins in the following manner, and his opinion was confirmed by Tasso;

Giunto alla tomba, ove al suo spirto vivo
Dolorosa prigione il ciel prescrisse.

One of the company, not overseasoned with salt, resolving to push himself into notice by a sagacious interrogation, demanded which is the most beautiful of the verses of Petrarch. To this, Tasso, not much delighted with the change of subject from himself to Petrarch, replied, it is the following:

Infinita è la schiera degli Sciocchi.

One Julius Cortese, a learned Greek, and professor of that language at Naples, complained to Tasso, that he had every where in his poern

D 2

spoken

« ZurückWeiter »