Secondly, if Dante had been actually at the foot of the hill, in the strict sense of the word, he could not possibly have seen its summit,* "clad in the sun's bright rays." Let us now examine how this construction agrees with the context. Dante," in the middle of the way of life," finds himself in the forest of Error. He cannot tell how he came there, but merely recollects, that a moment previous, he was "oppressed with sleep," that is, in a state of intellectual unconsciousness, arising from the violence of his passions. In this "rugged, wild, and gloomy" forest, he loses his way, and soon after, finds himself (he either will not or cannot tell how) at the foot of a hill, bounding this valley or forest. Alarmed at this, he raises his eyes to the summit of the hill, and there sees the rays of the Allor fu la paura un poco queta, and he turns round to look upon the pass che non lasciò giammai persona viva, that is, lasciò passar, or in other words-the pass which no living soul ever omitted, or was exempted from passing. Then sun. Riprese via per la piaggia deserta and this brings us to the difficulty. It would be difficult to persuade me, that this piaggia deserta means the beginning of the ascent. Dante says expressly, that he resumed his previous way, or walked again along the piaggia, Sicchè il piè fermo sempre era il più basso, and then began to ascend. This ascent is moreover announced by an emphatic Ed ecco, denoting that then, and not till then, did the rise begin. To conclude Ripresi via per la piaggia deserta, I resumed my way along the solitary plain, (where alone il pie fermo sempre è il più basso,) and walked toward the hill,-that is, toward the seat of truth; but in such a way, that my firm foot was always lower than the other. This I take to mean, I still continued in the path of error, not daring to ascend the hill of truth. After going a short distance, and just as I had reached the beginning of the rise, my further progress is op * Spalle certainly means the suminit of the hill, and not the quasi sommità, as Biagioli wishes us to believe ; because if the sun's rays had reached the side of the hill, the forest would not have been dark, nor would the poet have been obliged to raise his eyes to see the light. posed by Pleasure, Pride, and Avarice, so much so that, (to repeat Dante's jeu de mots,) Back to return, at every turn I turned. In this way, the literal sense is abundantly perspicuous, and the allegorical extremely apt and beautiful. L. Da Ponte. THE SKIES. AYE, gloriously thou standest there, Far, far below thee, tall gray trees The eagle soars his utmost height— Thou hast thy frowns-with thee, on high, His stores of hail and sleet: Thence the consuming lightnings break- Yet art thou prodigal of smiles Smiles sweeter than thy frowns are stern: The glory that comes down from thee The sun, the gorgeous sun, is thine, The pomp that brings and shuts the day, Thence look the thoughtful stars, and there The sunny Italy may boast The beauteous tints that flush her skies. And lovely, round the Grecian coast, May thy blue pillars rise ;- And they are fair,-a charm is theirs That earth-the proud green earth-has not, We gaze upon thy calm pure sphere, Oh, when, amid the throng of men, And look into thy azure breast For seats of innocence and rest. B. VERPLANCK'S ADDRESS. MR. WILEY, of this city, has just published a second edition of the Address delivered by Mr. Verplanck, at the opening of the tenth exhibition of the Academy of the Fine Arts, in NewYork. Our readers are already acquainted with the character of this judicious and well-written discourse; and it is only necessary to say, on the present occasion, that the publisher has taken care, that the mechanical execution should be worthy of the style and matter of the work. It is beautifully printed, and embellished with a likeness of West, and a front view of one of the temples of Paestum. It has also undergone a careful revision from the author :-some additions have been made, and the style has been, in several instances, retouched. It is, in short, a publication that cannot fail to give pleasure, to all who have any taste for the luxuries of beautiful writing, and elegant typography. JULIO AND ADA. His was the look, the voice, the step, the air, White as the fleecy cloud of sun-lit skies. The richest hue of summer's eve ;-the flush When past were all youth's varying hopes and fears, Now when all thought him happiest, for the time From him for ever:-he had seen her brook A little while, And she was wedded-he beheld her smile Desperate he plunged amidst the haunts of men, The world's wild storms. Affection's deepest stream Unfettered. But such thoughts indeed were vain; |