1832.] Ugo Foscolo, and the Italian Poets. 87 



upon my chin. Alfieri Monti, and the rest, all either feared or envied me ; and 

 I went on distinguishing myself, till even Buonaparte himself trembled before 

 .me. And now what am I ? A poor, miserable exile ! My countrymen abuse 

 me because I do not help them ; and here I am myself without friends, and 

 without one shilling in my pocket ! I must sacrifice either my honour, or my 

 life; and I will therefore die!' Having said this, he left Mr. Hall to his 

 uncomforable ruminations ; but the next morning he made him another visit, 

 and laughed and chatted as if he had no recollection whatever of the part he had 

 acted the preceding afternoon. 



" On another occasion, however, he addressed him in a similar manner: 'I 

 will die !' said he, ' for I am a stranger, and have no friends/ ' But, surely, 

 Sir,' was the answer, ' a stranger may have friends.' ' Friends !' he exclaimed, 

 ' I have learnt that there is no meaning in the word. I assure you, I called on 



the editor of the , to learn if there had been any thing about me in the 



newspapers ; for everybody seems leagued against me, and leaving nothing 

 undone to plague me. I assure you I do not think I will live after next Satur- 

 day, unless there be some change.' " 



The description of Foscolo, in his last moments, is at once touching 

 and eloquent, and the estimate of his character is given in a manly and 

 impartial manner. The following particulars are interesting, and dis- 

 play the proud, independent, and resentful spirit of the man, in a 

 remarkable degree, so long as nature could assert her power : 



" The letter he had written to Capo D'Istrias remained unanswered till the 

 tenth of October. On the morning of that day the president went to Turnham- 

 green, but, on his arriving at Foscolo's house, he learned that he was then too 

 near his end to be disturbed. Deeply affected at this intelligence, he sent in his 

 name to the Canon Riego, and one or two other gentlemen who were present, 

 and was admitted. He approached the side of Foscolo's bed with a friendly 

 and commiserating air ; but the attention was met with a look of recognition 

 which implied more of reproach than thankfulness ; and the dying man turned 

 himself in his bed, as if wishing to hold no farther communion with his visitor. 

 Death rapidly approached after this, but without making any alteration in the 

 tranquillity, or rather, perhaps, in the indifference with which he had always 

 expressed himself ready to meet it. At length it came, and, according to the 

 account of one who was with him at the time, he underwent the last pang with 

 as much composure as he would have drunk a glass of wine, and left the world 

 as if he were glad to bid it farewell. 



" Thus ended the career of one of the most distinguished men that modern 

 Italy has produced. The personal character of Foscolo has been submitted to 

 severe criticism, and, like that of most men of his disposition, it has met with 

 little mercy. His natural candour was sufficient of itself to create him enemies 

 in the world ; but this candour, so noble in itself, wherever found, was unfor- 

 tunately leavened with an asperity which too often gave to his honourable love 

 of independence the appearance of pride and angry passion. He was thus always 

 obnoxious to the weak and the ignorant, frequently to the calm and temperate, 

 and occasionally to those who were in every way worthy of his respect, and who 

 would have shewn him every kind of honour, but for his impatient and overbearing 

 disposition. While he thus created a host of opponents by the mere faults of his 

 temper, he added largely to their number by the imprudence of his conduct. 

 Men of genius ought not, perhaps, to be judged of in the same way as the mass 

 of human beings, whose actions are under the influence of different motives. 

 Some allowance, perhaps, ought to be made for the indiscretions, not for the 

 vices, of those, whose prudence even is derived from considerations with which 

 that of mankind in general has little to do ; but if the world ought to be thus 

 charitable towards men of genius, men of genius ought to exercise equal charity 

 towards the world, and not to be angry if they who have only the common 



