s to your rather too general
observations. It is true that Metastasio is rather a lyrical than a
dramatic poet, and that he describes love like one of the fine arts that
adorn life, not as the most important secret of our happiness and our
pain. I will venture to say, notwithstanding our language has been
consecrated to the cause of love, that we have more profoundness and
sensibility in describing any other passion than this. The practice of
making amorous verses has created a kind of commonplace language amongst
us for that subject; so that not what he has felt, but what he has read,
inspires the poet. Love, such as it exists in Italy, by no means
resembles that love which is described by our writers. It is only in
Boccacio's romance of _Fiametta_, that according to the best of my
recollection, there is to be found an idea of that passion, painted in
truly national colours. Our poets subtilise and exaggerate the
sentiment, whilst agreeably to the real Italian character, it is a rapid
and profound impression, which rather expresses itself by silent and
passionate actions than by ingenious language. In general our literature
is not characteristic of our national manners[23]. We are much too
modest, I had almost said too humble a nation to aspire to tragedies
taken from our own history, and bearing the stamp of our own sentiments.

"Alfieri, by a singular chance, was transplanted, if I may use the
expression, from ancient to modern times; he was born for action, and
his destiny only permitted him to write; this constraint appears in the
style of his tragedies. He wished to make literature subservient to a
political purpose; undoubtedly his object was noble, but nothing
perverts the labours of the imagination so much as having a purpose. In
this nation, where certainly, some erudite scholars and very enlightened
men are to be met with, Alfieri was indignant at seeing literature
consecrated to no serious end, but merely engrossed with tales, novels,
and madrigals. Alfieri wished to give a more austere character to his
tragedy. He has stript it of all the borrowed appendages of theatrical
effect, preserving nothing but the interest of the dialogue. It appears
to have been his wish to place the natural vivacity and imagination of
the Italians in a state of penitence; he has however been very much
admired for his character and the energies of his soul, which were truly
great. The inhabitants of modern Rome are particularly giv