Hfr. Oioeii s i^lun recommended for Coii.-iidcralioii. [March \, 



tiudi, makes her swear at the altar that 

 she is still guiltless; and a noble scene, 

 very different from Mr. Leigh Hunt's, 

 now follows between flie brothers. Al- 

 tern.vtel)' hostile and affeelionate, the 

 expression of wounded pride and affec- 

 tion on one side, and repressed feelinp 

 and contrition on the other, is very 

 finely preserved. After mutual expla- 

 nations, and finding his brother guilt- 

 less of actual crime. Lancelot parts 

 from him in peace and friendship ; but 

 when Francesca again approiiches, his 

 suspi«'ions and jealousy are roused, and 

 he (u-ders Paulo into instant confine- 

 ment, llesolving on a s"parati(m from 

 Francesca, the husband informs her 

 father, that be wishes to have a last in- 

 terview. While she is expecting hi:^ 

 approach, Paulo rushes into her pre- 

 sence with a dr-awn sword, having 

 escaped from custody, and imagining 

 she is about to be sacrificol to the jea- 

 lous vengeance of her husband. Their 

 mutual danger now produces some ex- 

 pression of their love, and at tlie mo- 

 ment their conversation is becoming 

 animated, Lancelot enters, and attacks 

 his brother with his drawn sword, 

 Francesca rushes between the brothers, 

 and dies by her husband's liand : on 

 which Paulo falls on his brother's 

 sword, and tlie tragedy is closed. 



We should bave been happy to have 

 had it in our power to quote examples 

 from the respective dramas, to illustrate 

 tlie observations we have made, and in 

 sup;iort of our opinion, that the more 

 free and natural tone of thoughts and 

 language, adopted by the writers of 

 Italy, in union with a c]i()ice of Jiational 

 subjects, will give her modern drama 

 a degreeof high interest and reputation 

 which it never before possessed. 



To the Editor of the Monthly Magazine. 



SIR, 



'HE limits of a jieriodical M'f)rk 

 cannot admit of much inquiiy 

 into the remote causes of the present 

 distressed state of our count ly. It is, 

 however, but too evident that misery 

 exists to an alarming extent. I have 

 for se's'eral j'cars read and considered 

 almost every method that has been 

 suggested for the relief of the lower 

 orders, and, among others, seized with 

 the greatest avidity, the plans of Mk. 

 Owen on their first appearance before 

 the public, but that which I saw of 

 them at that time appeared to be not 

 only extravagant, but visionaiy and 

 impracticable. Lately, bowevw, a 

 friend 



J 20 



against war ; for both of whicli we 

 jnust refer to an ensuing number. 



The story <ipon which Selvis Pellieo 

 lias exercised his dramatic skill, is well 

 known to the literary world, from an 

 episode in tli*^ splendid poem of Dante, 

 and from Mr. T>cigh Hunt's somewhat 

 trifling one of "Iliuiini;" but the 

 slender fabric raised out of such fine 

 materials by Mr. Hunt, in the hands of 

 Silvio Pellico, assumes the form of a 

 lieantiful Italian temple, remarkable 

 for its just projjortion and its grace. 



The pathos and sweetness of many 

 of the scenes are, in otluM- instances, 

 equalled by the ardent feeling, the bold 

 4ind easy freedom of artless nature, and 

 a correct taste and delicacy of expres- 

 sion very unusual in writers on these 

 somewhat dubious subjects of tragic 

 composition. The incestuous charac((>r 

 of the plot is here softened down and 

 shaded, rather tlian obtrusively brought 

 out, as in the Cenci and our Ilimini ; it 

 not only a|)pears removed from the 

 reader's and t!ie i)oet's v« ",v, but 

 scarcely breathed or alluded to by the 

 characters themselves. Tlie poet has 

 sliewn no little art in thus winning the 

 attention by tlu^ mod.sly and purity of 

 the style and sentiments, instead of re- 

 volting the feelings, as in l!ie Cenci. 



Thus when Francesca bears of the 

 arrival of her husband's brother, Paulo, 

 to whom she is secretly attached, she 

 only exi)resses terror, and entreats to 

 be allowed to leave the place where he 

 resides. Her interviews with her lius- 

 liand and her father are full of the 

 sam« feeling of timid delicacy, and 

 fearfulness of incurring any imputation 

 of wrong. When a stranger is an- 

 nounced, she leaves her husband with 

 precipitation and dread. Paulo then 

 appears, returning fi-om his wars in the 

 East, and seems mr.ch troubled and 

 -confused on hearing that Fiancesca is 

 now his brother's wife. He resolves to 

 li^ave her, and Francesca is about to 

 reveal the secret of her w; etehedness to 

 her father. At the moment she would 

 pronounce his name, her husliand ap- 

 proaches to beg she will see Paulo, be- 

 fore he takes his departure once more. 

 Their mutual love is at length re- 

 ■\ealed to one another, in an accidental 

 iuJerricw; not in perusing the old ro- 

 mance, as Dante finely describes it. 

 They had believed themselves mutually 

 deserted and forgotten. But it is now 

 too late, and they are obliged to part, 

 while tlie husband and the father are 

 present. Her father, suspecting (he 



