VIEW OF THE LITERATURE OF THE SOUTH OF EUROPE. CHAPTER XXI. Alfieri and his school continued. THE publication of Alfieri's first four tragedies was, perhaps, the greatest epoch in the literary history of Italy, during the eighteenth century. Up to that period the nation, contented with their languid love-plots and effeminate dramas, considered the rules of dramatic composition to be firmly established, and the boundaries of the art for ever stationary at the point at which their tragic writers had fixed them; attributing the fatigue which they felt during the representation of pieces, which had no attractions to rivet their attention, to the want of poetical talents in the authors, and not to the false idea which they themselves had formed of the art. The sudden appearance of four compositions so novel, elevated, and austere, immediately led to an enquiry into the essence of the dramatic art. Alfieri attempted to throw off the disgraceful yoke, under which, in Italy, the human intellect laboured, and every high-minded Italian, who lamented over the humiliation of his country, was united to him by the bonds of mutual sympathy. Thus was the taste for the noblest species of tragedy mingled with the love of glory and of liberty. The theatre, which had been so long considered the school of intrigue, of languor, of effeminacy, and of servility, was now regarded by the first Italians as the only nurse of mental vigour, of honour, and of public virtue. Their critics at last dared, with noble pride, to turn their eyes to the dramatic writers of other nations, whose superiority had long been a humiliating reflection. Though divided in opinion upon the laws and the essence of the drama, they all united in applauding the elevation, the nobleness, and the energy of Alfieri's sentiments; and opinions, which, till that time, had been banished from Italy, burst forth at once, like the long suppressed voice of public feeling. Even within the narrower boundaries of the critical art, we are astonished at the profundity and variety of knowledge which were at this period displayed by men whose talents had been hitherto unknown, and who would never have exercised any influence over the national spirit, unless some great genius like Alfieri had prepared the way for them. Thus we find in a letter from Renier de Calsabigi to Alfieri, an acquaintance with the ancient drama, with that of France and England, and with the defects peculiar to each, which we could scarcely have expected from a Neapolitan. The labours of these critics produced an effect on the mind of Alfieri, which is manifested in his subsequent works. The four tragedies which he first published were only a small portion of the number which remained in his desk. At three different periods he successively submitted these tragedies to the judgment of the public. In the interval between these publications, he observed the general impression which they produced, and with the assistance of some of his friends performed the dramas himself, exposing them, by every means in his power, to the test of theatrical representation, which could scarcely be done in Italy in a satisfactory manner. gradually reformed his style, and adapted his compositions, by new corrections, to the general taste. His dramas were thus distributed into three classes, distinguished by the period of their publication, as well as by the various alterations which they had undergone in consequence of the successive changes in the author's system. He At the same time with the Philip, which was published in 1783, appeared Polynices, Antigone, which is a sequel to the latter, and Virginia. The three latter dramas, which display beauties of the first order, have, in common with the Philip, a certain hardness of style, and exhibit traces of the author's original acerbity, notwithstanding all the pains which he took to correct that fault in the later editions. They resemble each other still more in the author's obstinate attachment to his system; in the stiffness of the action, in the bitterness of the sentiments, and in the baldness both of the action and the poetry. In the last of these dramas the attachment of Alfieri to the laws of unity has led him into a strange error. The murder of Virginia by her father rouses the people, and at the same time enrages Appius Claudius. The people cry to arms, and exclaim: "Appius is a tyrant-let him perish!" Alfieri, thinking that his tragedy, being entitled Virginia, necessarily terminated with the death of his heroine, lets the curtain drop upon the people and the lictors in the midst of the conflict, so that the audience is ignorant of the result, and whether Appius or the people triumph. leave any action unfinished at the conclusion of a drama, is a gross violation of the unity; for it induces every one to believe that such action was totally independent of the unity. The rigorous notions which compelled the author to let the curtain fall exactly ten lines after the To |