PETRARCH, Francis, one of the greatest poets and most celebrated men of whom Italy can boast, was born at Arezzo on the 20th of July 1304. He saw the light amidst the rage of contending factions. His father, the friend of Dante, and, like him, of the Ghibelin party, had been banished from Florence, where he filled a respectable situation confided to him by the republic; and having taken refuge in Pisa, he committed the primary tuition of his son, then in his seventh year, to an old grammarian of that city named C<mvennole da Prato. Two years afterwards, when the death of the Emperor Henry VII. had destroyed the hopes of the Ghibelins, the father of Petrarch removed his family to Avignon, whither Clement V. had transferred the pontifical court, and his son resumed his studies at Carpentras, under his former master. It was •then that the youthful pupil of Convennole visited for the first time the fountain of Vaucluse; and the rural beauties 'of this celebrated spot left an indelible impression upon his mind. In that age, the study of law was almost the only pursuit that led to fortune. Petrarch accordingly passed four years at the university of Montpellier, where, instead of immersing himself in the hazy erudition of the schools, he devoted his days and his nights to Cicero and to Virgil. At the same time he made himself familiar with the compositions of the troubadours, and, if we may credit Gariel, in his Idea of Montpellier, retouched the romance of Pierre de Provence et la belle Maguelone, writtch in 1178 by the canon Bernard de Tri vies. But whilst engaged in these seducing pursuits, he was disturbed by the arrival of his father, who, greatly incensed at what he conceived to be a gross misapplication of time, consigned to the flames the little library of his son, and was with difficulty induced to restore to him Cicero and Virgil, after they had been half consumed. Being now sent to the university of Bologna, to receive the instructions of John d’Andrea, the most learned canonist of that age, Petrarch soon formed a connection there with Cino de Pistoia, a Florentine, like himself, whom Bartolo cites as his master in the science of law, and who deserved to become that of Petrarch and Boccacio in poetry. If the young legist did not long retain the lessons of the jurisconsult, he at least remembered those of the poet; and at a later period he did not disdain to consecrate to the memory of Laura several verses borrowed from the bard of Selvagia. At the age of twenty-two he lost his father, and being ruined by faithless tutors, he returned to Avignon, where he took up his residence, appeared with distinction in the most brilliant society, and found himself at liberty to apply to his favourite pursuits. The mathematics, which were then in their infancy, history and antiquities, philosophy with its innumerable systems, especially those which related to the science of ethics, occupied, each in its turn, a mind thirsting for knowledge. The first poetical attempts of Petrarch, like those of Dante, were made in the Latin language; but, happily, his muse soon ventured to confide her inspirations to the vulgar tongue, the only one, besides, which the women understood.

About this time, he renewed his acquaintance with one of his school companions, James Colonna, the youngest son of Stephen Colonna, the head of the illustrious family of that name. By the elevation of his mind, and his passion for letters, this young Roman was every way worthy to become the friend of Petrarch, and he continued to be so until the period of his death. Cardinal John Colonna, the eldest brother of James, desired also to share the friendship of Petrarch; and, in the society of these eminent individuals, the poet became known to the most illustrious strangers who visited the pontifical city; whilst the noble frankness of his manner, his mild yet sprightly physiognomy, the graces of his mind, and his unaffected anxiety to please, secured him a remarkable ascendency in this select circle. Colonna, the father, took a particular pleasure in recounting to him the events of his life, as well as in developing his projects; and it was in these conversations that Petrarch imbibed a new love of Italy, and a stronger aversion for every thing calculated to prolong its misfortunes or to obscure its glory. When James Colonna was called to the bishopric of Lombez, his friend accompanied him to his diocese, and in their way they stopped at Toulouse, where, a few years before (in 1324), Arnauld Vidal had been honoured with the poetical eglantine. The seven Maintainers of the gay Science were then beginning to diffuse a taste for the vulgar poetry, and to bring into notice those little effusions of song unknown to the ancients, and some of which have still remained peculiar to the literature of the troubadours. A submissive and unfortunate lover, Petrarch, like them, sought to console himself by singing at once the charms and the cruelty of bis beloved. On the 6th of April 1327, on holy Monday, at [7:17:325]six o’clock in the morning, he had seen, in a church of Avignon, the daughter of Audibert de Novis; and the passion he conceived for this lady occupied the remainder of his life, over which it diffused an air of poetry and romance. Laura was united to Hugues de Sade, a young patrician, and a native of Avignon; but, faithful to her duties as a wife and a mother, she forbade Petrarch to indulge the slightest hope. Incessantly haunted with this beautiful vision, the poet visited in succession the south of France, Paris, and the Low Countries; the forest of the Ardennes re-echoed in turn his verses and his lamentations; he traversed Burgundy, the Lyonnais, Dauphiné, and, after an exile of eight months, returned to bury himself in the delightful solitude of Vaucluse.

Pope John XXII. was then meditating a new crusade, and, to further his object, he led the Romans to hope that he would re-establish the chair of St Peter in Italy. This double project excited the imagination of Petrarch, and inspired his beautiful ode to the Bishop of Lombez, 0 as-pettatα in ciel, &c. The following year, 1335, we find him expressing, in beautiful Latin verses addressed to Benedict XII. his earnest desire to see the Holy See re-established in the eternal city; and to this patriotic aspiration the pope replied by appointing him canon of Lombez, with the hopes of a prebend. The same year was marked by an event unique in the life of Petrarch. A recent and close connection attached him to the interests of Azon de Corregio, one of the principal lords of Italy, who was then prosecuted before the papal courts at the instance of the family of the Rossi. In the hope of serving his friend, the poet resolved to plead his cause at the bar; and this he did with so eminent success, that it proved to both a day of triumph. Since he had first beheld Laura, he sought occupation everywhere, without being able to fix himself anywhere. A vague disquietude of mind led him to visit Rome, where, however, the friendship of the Colonnas could not detain him; and he returned to Avignon, from which, although he had no desire to establish himself in that city, he could not for any length of time stay away. Finding himself in this unsettled state of mind, he now shut himself up in his retreat at Vaucluse, without friends and without domestics, as if solitude could have extinguished a passion which increased in spite of all his efforts to subdue it. The country-house of the Bishop of Cavaillon adjoined that which he occupied. This prelate was Philip de Cabassole, whom the poet himself calls a little bishop and a great man. Petrarch could not refuse his consolations, and soon reckoned the good bishop amongst his friends.

About this time the lover of Laura seems to have been occupied with a great literary conception. He had commenced writing in Latin the history of Rome from the foundation of the city to the reign of Titus. But in collecting materials for this work, he was much struck with the grandeur of the events which had marked the termination of the second Punic war; and suddenly conceived the design of giving to his age a regular epic, of which Scipio should be the hero. His plan was hastily traced; some portions of the projected poem were written under the first access of inspiration; and, before the end of the year, the poet was in a condition to submit to his friends the greater part of his work, which they received with the most flattering encomiums, and, having exhausted the language of eulogy, styled the author sublime and divine. But a more grateful distinction awaited him. His sonnets and his Canzoni had filled France and Italy with the name of Laura and that of her lover; in fact, these pieces were universally read and admired. Of the impression produced by his poetical genius he had soon the most convincing evidence. On the 23d of August 1340, he received at Vaucluse two letters, one from the Roman senate, which invited him to accept the poetical laurel, and be crowned in the capitol, and the other from the chancellor of the University of Paris, which offered him the same triumph. It is a mistake, however, to give the credit of this proceeding to the learned corporation here mentioned. The most careful researches made in the registers have not detected a single trace of the deliberation which must necessarily have preceded the transmission of such a letter as that written by the chancellor; and every thing inclines us to believe that Robert de Barde, who then held that office, a Florentine, and the personal friend of Petrarch, had written him without consulting his colleagues, trusting to inspire them with his own admiration, whenever the poet should appear in Paris. The choice of Petrarch, however, was already made. He had long coveted the poetic laurel, and even made known his wishes to Robert of Anjou, king of Naples, whose influence had stimulated the admiration, and hastened the decision, of the Roman senators. This prince cultivated letters with enthusiasm, and protected them in a manner worthy of a king. Wishing to appear indebted to him for the crown which had been offered to him, Petrarch embarked for Naples, carrying with him his epic poem, which he had entitled Africa. The king and the poet had repeated conferences upon the subjects of poetry and history; but not thinking these sufficient, the latter demanded a more rigorous trial of his qualifications and acquirements, and offered to reply, during three days, to all the questions that might be proposed to him upon history, literature, and philosophy. In this public examination he acquitted himself to the admiration of all. Robert solemnly declared him worthy of the promised triumph; and at his audience of leave, the king, divesting himself of his robe, put it on Petrarch, at the same time requesting him to wear it on the day when he was to receive the laurel crown.

He then repaired to Rome, and, on Easter-day (the 8th of April 1341), ascended the capitol, in the midst of the principal citizens, preceded by twelve youths selected from the most illustrious families, who declaimed his verses. After a short harangue he received the crown from the hands of the senator Orso, count de l’Anguillara, and then recited a sonnet upon the heroes of ancient Rome, whose place he then appeared to occupy. Descending from the capitol, he was conducted, by the same cortège, amidst the acclamations of a crowd eager to witness so novel a spectacle, to the church of St Peter, where he deposited on the altar the laurel which encircled his brow; after which he set out for Avignon by land, as if to enjoy more leisurely his renown. He carried with him the title of almoner to the king of Naples, and letters-patent giving him, as well by the authority of King Robert as by that of the senate and people of Rome, full and free permission to read, vindicate, and explain the ancient books, to make new ones, compose poems, and on every occasion to wear the crown of laurel, ivy, or myrtle, at his pleasure.

Azon de Corregio having just usurped the sovereignty of Parma, on the pretext of freeing it from thraldom, urgently pressed Petrarch to spend some time with him; and, captivated by the attentions paid to him, the poet soon accepted the situation of archdeacon of the church of Parma, caused a house to be built there, and then employed himself in completing his poem of Africa. Glory had now begun to console him for his labour and anxiety, when envy, awakened by unexampled success, attempted to disturb his repose; and at the same time the hand of death had stricken the Bishop of Lombez, his best friend and warmest admirer. The accession of Clement VI. to the triple crown, in 1342, revived in the mind of Petrarch hopes which had already been twice disappointed. At the request of the Romans, he accompanied to Avignon the deputation they had sent for the purpose of soliciting the new pope to fulfil the promises made by John XXII., and, [7:17:326]in this matter, he acted as the organ of the deputation. The pontiff received him with marked distinction, appointed him prior of Migliorino, in the diocese of Parma, and treated him with the greatest familiarity, but made no answer to the petition of the deputation, beseeching him to remove to Italy. At the same time, however, his holiness, anxious to testify the confidence he reposed in Petrarch, intrusted him with a delicate mission, namely, that of obtaining from the regency of Naples a recognition of the rights of the Holy See, during the minority of Jane, granddaughter of King Robert. The young queen conversed several times with Petrarch, who, besides, received public testimony of the esteem she entertained for letters; but the candour of the poetical negotiator rendered him the most unfit person in the world to control the selfish policy of the councillors by whom that princess was governed. He fled with horror from a barbarous and corrupt court, which sought relaxation from its debaucheries, in the depraving spectacle of gladiatorial combats. He crossed the Apennines, made no stay at Parma, and, eager to escape from Italy, then a prey to all the fury of contending factions, he returned to his beloved retreat at Vaucluse, where he remained several months. But a circumstance occurred which soon recalled him to Italy. Rienzi, having made himself master of Rome, cited kings to appear before him, and loudly proclaimed that his fellow-citizens were about to resume, in the fourteenth century, their ancient dominion over the world. All the illusions of Petrarch immediately brightened into realities. An ardent defender of the tribune even in the midst of the pontifical court, he now felicitated the popular leader on his success, exhorted him to persevere, and, impatient to counsel him on the spot, set out immediately for Italy. The news of the massacre of the Colonnas reached him at Genoa, and struck him with consternation; but still he felt disposed to pardon Rienzi, provided Rome had become republican. The sway of the tribune, however, was short-lived, and with his fall disappeared that wild phantom of liberty which had deceived Petrarch.

Scarcely a year had elapsed when the poet had to bewail a loss still more painful. Laura was no more. The pestilence of 1348, which Boccacio has described with such terrible truth, and which desolated all Europe, had carried her off on the 6th of April that year, on the same day, in the same month, and at the same hour, in which her lover had seen her for the first time. The last half of the Canzoniere is an immortal monument of the long regret of Petrarch. But although his verses had not made us aware of the sincerity of his grief for his mistress, the touching note which he inscribed upon his copy of Virgil would still attest the profane homage which he paid to her memory.^[1. The authenticity of this note is still disputed by those who wish to overturn the whole history of Laura. Mr Whyte, a learned Englishman, who discovered at Florence an inedited life of Petrarch, written soon after his death, by Luigi Peruzzi, who had known him, also rejects the evidence of this note. But it is written in a tone which ought to silence incredulity, because feigned emotions never bear the stamp of nature and reality. The Virgil of Petrarch has long been in the royal collection at Paris. ] Yielding to the repeated instances of Luigi Conrado, lord of Mantua, Petrarch now repaired to his princely residence, in the hope of finding consolation in the native country of the most sensitive and affecting of all poets; and it was during his stay there that he addressed to the Emperor Charles IV. an eloquent letter, in which he exhorted him to restore peace to Italy. The publication of the jubilee in 1350 drew almost all Christian Europe to Rome. Petrarch, participating in this pious impulse, set out for Rome, and in passing through Florence, visited Boccacio, one of those whom he had particularly noticed at the court of Naples, and who now became his friend. At Rome he found the jubilee commenced, and this grand and consoling solemnity made a deep impression on his mind. His habits became more grave, his manners more austere; and from this time his thoughts assumed a character of severity, the impress of which is visible in his later compositions. At the same time he everywhere received honours which had never before been bestowed on any private individual. The principal citizens of Arezzo conducted him with pride to the house where he was born, assuring him that nothing had been changed in it; and, in fact, the town had obliged the proprietors, into whose hands this house had passed, to pay the most religious respect to the place consecrated by his birth.

The friendship of the Carraras having induced Petrarch to visit Padua, he had scarcely arrived when Boccacio came to announce to him, in the name of the senate of Florence, that he had been re-established in his rights as a citizen, as well as in the patrimony of his family, and also to offer him the directorship of the university recently founded in the first city of Tuscany. This honourable appointment, however, had no attraction for Petrarch. His books awaited him in his transalpine Parnassus, as he called Vaucluse; and his cisalpine Parnassus was his house at Parma. He accordingly declined accepting the proffered appointment, and hastened to bury himself in his favourite retreat. At this time Rome, filled with robberies and assassinations, occupied all the pontifical solicitude, with a view to repress these disorders; and Clement VI. invoked the counsels of Petrarch respecting the measures most proper to be adopted. Petrarch, however, replied like a poet rather than a counsellor. He spoke of the ancient rights of the Roman people, of excluding strangers from public offices, of restoring to the senate its dignity, and declared that he saw no safety except in the establishment of the republic upon the principles of equality and justice. About the same time, Rienzi, having fallen into the hands of the emperor, was delivered up to the pope, and brought before a judicial commission, against the legality of which he vehemently protested. It is said that Petrarch wrote to the Roman people, warmly exhorting them to interpose in favour of his old friend; and, in fact, this exhortation is found in his works. But there is nothing to show that it was sent according to its address; on the contrary, almost every circumstance leads us to believe that his imagination alone had prompted him to write this letter, rather to console than to save Rienzi. Nevertheless, from a superstition indicative at once of the ignorance and the knowledge of a semi-barbarous age, those judges, so impatient to punish a factious chief whom they believed unworthy of the ordinary benefit of the law, hesitated as soon as they learned that he was a poet, and feared to condemn a man belonging to an order which Cicero had pronounced “sacred.” But the peril of the modern Gracchus was not the only vexation which Petrarch experienced. The physicians by whom the pope was surrounded, and whose ridiculous ignorance he had denounced to the holy father, combined against him. To suppose himself wounded by arrows which fell short of their mark, was no doubt an error on the part of the poet, and, under its influence, he humbled himself so far as to borrow the arms of his adversaries, in order to repel their attacks.

On his return to Vaucluse, that tranquil retreat inspired him with an answer more worthy of himself. This was his Epistle to Posterity, in which he gives an account of the principal events of his life, until his departure from Italy, about the middle of the year 1351.^[2. Ginguene' {Histoire Littéraire d’Italie i tom. ii. p. 582) shows, contrary to the opinion of Badelli, that the Epistle to Posterity was written in 1352, and not in 1372. ] Some months afterwards, Innocent VI. was called to the government of the [7:17:327] church; a man of an irreproachable life, but of little knowledge, and the only pontiff from whom Petrarch did not receive some mark of favour. The poet, after having twice, under Clement IV. refused the office of apostolical secretary, was now suspected of magic by his successor, and he took no pains to dispel the prejudices of the new pontiff. His regret for Italy was only increased; and he repassed the Alps, uncertain where to fix his abode, although prepared to adopt as his country any place where he might live in tranquillity and independence. He had long wished to visit Milan, and, on this occasion, he proceeded no farther. Charmed with the reception he met with from a man of power, who knew well how to exhibit himself to the poet in an amiable light, and admitted to the counsels of .John Visconti, Petrarch accepted a mission having for its object to bring about a reconciliation between the republic of Genoa, which had just given itself up to Visconti, and that of Venice, elated by recent and apparently decisive successes. Three years before, Petrarch had endeavoured to prevent a war which presaged long and bloody divisions in Italy. Connected with the Doge Andrea Dandolo, one of the greatest men of this age, in politics, in war, and in letters, the poet appealed to the patriotism of his friend, and the latter replied by praising the eloquence of Petrarch, but without deferring to his counsels. Hence this new attempt proved not more fortunate than the previous one; but events soon showed on which side lay the want of foresight. Venice was reduced to the necessity of purchasing peace; Dandolo died of grief, and Visconti survived him little more than a month. Nevertheless, after a silence of three years, the emperor replied to the letter in which Petrarch had called upon him to restore peace to his country, an appeal which he had several times renewed. But the avarice of Charles IV. furnished a more powerful motive to appear in Lombardy than the patriotic addresses of Petrarch. By his orders, the poet proceeded to meet him at Mantua, full of confidence in his wisdom, and hoping that, as the friend of the Holy See, he would for ever banish from Italy the names of Guelf and Ghibelin, which had caused the effusion of so much blood, and fomented such fierce animosities. But in this monarch he discovered Only a weak and avaricious prince, who mistook treachery for talent, and exhibited the strange spectacle of an emperor of Germany in the pay of the Venetians. The poet presented him with some rare and valuable medals of Augustus, of Trajan, and the Antonines. “These,” said he, “are the great men whose place you occupy, and who ought to be your models.” During eight days which he spent in familiar intercourse with the emperor, Petrarch discovered the mean, narrow, and grovelling character of his mind, and refused to enter Rome in his train, or to be a witness of his coronation. He then attached himself more than ever to the nephews of John Visconti, whom the emperor had loudly menaced, with the view of enhancing the price to be afterwards exacted for confirming them in the usurpations of their uncle. At this period, the public hatred had accused them of fratricide. Petrarch, afflicted with a rumour which he could not believe, repaired to Pavia, where he was employed by Galeas, a friend of letters, to dissuade Charles IV. from undertaking a new expedition beyond the Alps. "This embassy proved more successful than the former, apparently because the proceedings of the malcontents in Germany had produced a change in the versatile policy of the emperor. On his return to Milan, the ambassador received from him the diploma of Count Palatine, in a gold box of considerable value. Petrarch accepted this new honour, but returned the box to the chancellor of the empire.

Fatigued with the agitation of courts, the poet now fixed upon a new retreat on the banks of the river Adda, in a pretty country-house, which he called Linterno, in honour of his hero Scipio. Literary projects and researches, religious exercises, and frequent visits to the charterhouse of Milan, now occupied his leisure. All the great lords of Italy had disputed with pontiffs and kings the honour of his presence and conversation. But a goldsmith of Bergamo, named Capra, solicited and obtained a sort of preference. At the approach of Petrarch all Bergamo went out to meet him, whilst Capra received him with a magnificence almost royal, and proved by his enthusiasm, not less than by the number and quality of his books, that he was worthy of his guest. In 1360 a new diplomatic mission led Petrarch to France, whither he went to compliment King John on the recovery of his liberty; and this prince, who had formerly made vain attempts to prevent his return to Italy, now renewed his efforts to retain him. But the envoy of Galeas returned to Milan, without suffering himself to be moved either by the presents of the monarch or by the entreaties of the dauphin; and those of the emperor, backed by the transmission of a gold cup of curious workmanship, found him equally inflexible. But never had a residence in Italy presented fewer attractions. The foreign companies who infested that land of discord, forced him to seek an asylum at Padua, whence he was soon afterwards expelled by the pestilence. He proceeded to Venice, accompanied with his books, which he always carried along with him, and, on his arrival, he presented his library to that hospitable republic, by a writing dated in 1362, on condition that so rare a collection should neither be divided nor sold. By a decree of the senate, a palace was assigned for the reception of Petrarch and his books; and it is, doubtless, this circumstance which has made him be regarded as the original founder of the celebrated library of St Mark.^[3. Morelli, Della Publica Libreria di S. Marco, p. 4 et seq. Venice, 1774, in 4to. ] The Abbé de Sadc is therefore mistaken in supposing that all these manuscripts had perished. Tomasini, who made a search for them in the year 1635, discovered them in a small dark chamber, situated near the four bronze horses; and there they remained until the year 1739, when permission was at length given to the public to consult them.^[4. Several of these books, which had lain forgotten for nearly three centuries, fell to dust when touched, and others were found, as it were, petrified. Tomasini, in his Petrarcha Redivivus (p. 65), gives a list of those which, in 1635, were found in good condition. Amongst these he remarked a Polyglot Vocabulary in Latin, Persian, and Turkish {Comanicum), written in the year 1303, of which he transcribed a small specimen. Morelli, in the work already referred to, gives a detail of several of these manuscripts, which are still to be seen in the library of St Mark, and accounts for the oblivion into which they had been allowed to fall during so long a period, from the enthusiasm which the acquisition of the Greek manuscripts of Cardinal Bessarion excited in the fifteenth century. ]

This residence at Venice, indeed, is doubly memorable in the life of Petrarch. It was here that, when driven by the plague from Florence, Boccacio came to share his asylum, and presented to him Leontius Pilatus of Thessalonica, who was then teaching him Greek. The lover of Laura had formerly studied that language under Barlaam, a monk, the ambassador of the Emperor Andronicus to Benedict XII., but he had studied it only in the dialogues of Plato; and, from the short stay of the monk at the court of Avignon, there is some reason to believe that, under Barlaam, he learned more Platonism than Greek. But however this may have been, he availed himself of the opportunity thus afforded him to resume the study of that language; and though now past sixty, he found, even in the [7:17:328]difficulties which opposed his progress, sufficient enjoyment to mitigate the affliction caused by the loss of many valued friends. It was the fortune of Petrarch to survive all those whom he loved. In the course of fifteen years, death had deprived him of Cardinal John Colonna, James of Carrara, lord of Padua, and several other friends who were not less dear to him, but who are now less known; and this second pestilence bereft him of almost all those who remained, particularly of Azon de Corregio, and two other gentlemen who had shared with him the friendship of the Bishop of Lombez, and who are so often mentioned in his letters under the names of Laelius and Scipio. His grief was profound, and, under the depression it occasioned, he became more sensitive to the criticisms which, notwithstanding his reputation, were freely made on his Latin eclogues, and on some parts of his Africa. It was then that the poet wept over his laurels, and, in the bitterness of a wounded spirit, confessed that his crown had been to him a crown of thorns.

The homage which was paid to him at Venice might, however, have afforded him some consolation, had not a new revolt in the island of Candia created serious alarm in the mother country. The senate, confiding in the military reputation and experience of Luchino del Verme, a Milanese general, the friend of Petrarch, appointed him to the command of the expedition fitted out against the rebels; and the poet consented to support the application made by the doge to that officer. Luchino put down the insurrection; and Petrarch had a place assigned him, on the right hand of the doge, at the equestrian games which were celebrated, in the ma'nner of the ancients, in honour of this victory. Urban V., a virtuous and enlightened pontiff, now attempted to recall the poet to his court, by conferring upon him a canonship at Carpentras; a favour which he repaid by urging the holy father, in a long and vehement letter, to put an end to celibacy in the Roman Catholic church. Meanwhile, the cry of hatred raised everywhere against the Visconti had armed against them the new pontiff, and with him the half of Italy, now menaced by their ambition. Much less alarmed at this danger, however, than apprehensive of a war which would expose his country to the ravages of a foreign soldiery, Petrarch was employed by Galeas Visconti to. endeavour to avert the storm; and this, which proved the last, was also the most fruitless of all his missions. But the warmth with which he defended the Visconti family in no degree diminished the favour he enjoyed at Rome. Urban wished to see him; and Petrarch was preparing to respond to an invitation conceived in terms the most urgent and flattering, when he was seized with a terrible malady at Ferrara. But though saved by the care of the Este family, who governed that country, he did not recover sufficient strength to continue his journey; and having returned to Padua, reclining upon a couch in a boat, he established himself four leagues from that city, at the village of Arqua, situated in the Euganean hills, so celebrated by the Romans for the salubrity of the air, the richness of the pasturages, and the beauty of the orchards. There the poet resumed, with his labours, all the imprudence of his usual course of life. Employing at once as many as five secretaries, he exhausted himself with austerities, restricted himself to a single repast composed of fruits or pulse, abstained from wine, fasted often, and, on days of abstinence, allowed himself only bread and water. An unforeseen event also served to retard his convalescence. Urban V., preferring the peaceful abode of Avignon to the tumultuous agitations of Rome, had returned to die in France. He was succeeded by Gregory XI., who, equally well affected towards Petrarch, chose, as his legate in Italy, Philip de Cabassole, now cardinal and archbishop of Jerusalem. But this prelate died soon after reaching Perugia, and Petrarch never more beheld the beloved friend of his youth. The poet, however, appeared to revive on receiving a libel published by a French monk against his letter of congratulation to Pope Urban, and he once more humbled himself so far as to reply to an invective by abuse.

Francesco de Carrara, abandoned by his allies, had just concluded a humiliating peace with Venice. Being obliged to send his son to ask pardon and swear fidelity to the republic, he entreated Petrarch to accompany the youth, and address the senate in his behalf. Though sick and old, the poet only recollected his ancient friendship for the lords of Padua, and repaired with young Carrara to Venice. The day after their arrival they had an audience; but the old man, overcome with fatigue, and perhaps awed by the majesty of the assembly, could not utter a word. The following day, however, he took courage, and his harangue was warmly applauded. But this effort proved his last; it was the song of the swan when dying. He returned to Arqua, feeble, exhausted, and as indocile to the counsels of physicians as ever. Boccacio, who now seemed to supply the place of all the friends he had lost, having sent him the Decameron, which had just been completed, Petrarch read it with enthusiasm; got by heart the novel of Griseldis, which he translated into Latin; and transmitted to Boccacio this version, accompanied with a letter, which appears to have been the last he ever wrote. On the 18th of July 1374, he was found dead in his library, with his head resting upon an open book, an attack of apoplexy having seized him iι in that attitude. All Padua came to assist at his obsequies. Francesco de Carrara conducted the funeral ceremonies, attended by the nobility and the people; and the family of the poet caused a mausoleum of marble to be erected to his memory before the gate of the church of Arqua.^[5. This simple narrative will enable the reader to appreciate the truth and beauty of the following exquisite stanzas in the fourth canto of Chìlde Harold: There is a tomb in Arqua; rear’d in air, Pillar’d in their sarcophagus, repose The bones of Laura’s lover: here repair Many familiar with his well sung woes, The pilgrims of his genius. He arose To raise a language, and his land reclaim From the dull yoke of her barbaric foes: Watering the tree which bears his lady’s name With his melodious tears, he gave himself to fame. They keep his dust in Arqua, where he died; The mountain village where his latter days Went down the vale of years; and ’ tis their pride— An honest pride—and let it be their praise, To offer to the passing stranger’s gaze His mansion and his sepulchre, both plain And venerably simple, such as raise A feeling more accordant with his strain Than if a pyramid form’d his monumental fane. On the subject of Petrarch’s love, which Gibbon calls “a metaphysical passion for a nymph so shadowy, that her existence has been questioned,” and also in regard to the last circumstances in the life of the poet, the reader will find some curious information in those of the notes to this canto which refer to the stanzas above quoted. ]

The illustrious subject of this notice was connected with all the celebrated men of the fourteenth century; he took part in almost every event by which that memorable age was distinguished; and in a life so full of trouble and agitation, the only reproach which he incurred constitutes [7:17:329]the finest eulogìum on his character. He was born a poet, and always continued so, in his studies, his political missions, his love, his conversation, and his letters. The love of his country was no doubt in him little more than a poetical dream, but it was the dream of his whole life. In the intoxication of glory, as well as in the midst of the most cruel afflictions, ancient Italy was ever present to his thoughts. In the glorious recollections of the past he sought to console himself for the disorders of his own age, and from his worship of antiquity he derived generous inspirations and innocent illusions. That these illusions sometimes misled him in the choice of his friends, cannot reasonably be questioned. His candour exposed him without defence to the calculations of an astute policy, which, masking its real designs under the captivating name of Italy, completed the deception by the interested benefits which it conferred upon letters; but he passed through the courts of the petty Italian tyrants without any one having impeached his character, or cast a shade of suspicion on his memory. His morals were not entirely pure, but they were never corrupt. In his youth he had a natural daughter, near whom he died ’ soon after her marriage; and his son, whom he survived, was cherished with an affection and bewailed with a sorrow that long served to keep alive the regret which the remembrance of his weaknesses had left in his mind. The lover of Laura was impressed with a deep sense of religion; and, amongst the habits of a simple and studious life, it is related that he rose regularly at midnight for prayer. Superior to the pedantry which then and long afterwards clung to learning, this great poet was also an amiable man. His conversation was confiding and animated; his manners were frank and polished. His soul, ardent, but open to all the gentler affections, had a natural craving for friendship, which was to him a necessary of life; and he had many friends, all of whom appear to have been faithful to him, arid equally swayed by the double authority of his counsel and his example. Boccacio, whose benefactor he had been, and who had previously been little else than a man of pleasure, became irreproachable, if not austere, in bis morals, after his acquaintance with Petrarch. Acciaiuoli, grand seneschal of Naples, having become embroiled with another friend of Petrarch, the latter wrote to both a letter which was only to be opened and read in common, and the consequence was, that they parted mutually reconciled. It was by means of his friends that Petrarch exercised a kind of literary dictatorship in France, in Spain, and in England; it was through his friends that he was enabled to carry on that European correspondence which everywhere rekindled the study and admiration of the ancients. This long supremacy, scarcely disturbed by some clamours which envy had excited, and the honours paid to his memory throughout all Italy, gave a general impulse to the minds of men. He represented in his own person the republic of letters, and bis life forms a grand epoch in their history. The elevation of his character made them be respected by the great; whilst his writings contributed powerfully to purify them from that strange alloy with which ignorance had debased them.

He studied with diligence alchemy, astrology, scholastic theology, and Aristotle, with his interpreter Averroes, who had then even more authority than the great master before whom philosophy is said to have stood dumb. Even at the time when, by his advice, Galeas Visconti founded the university of Pavia, he himself directed the course of study, and formed the mind of Malpighino, who afterwards became so famous amongst the restorers of letters by the name of John of Ravenna. His letters De Scriptis Veterum Indagandis and De Libris Ciceronis attest the extent of the researches he made to recover manuscripts of the ancient authors, which he then copied with his own hand, not venturing to intrust them to the ignorance of vulgar scribes. It was thus that he restored to the literary world the Oratorical Institutions of Quinctilian, though incomplete and mutilated, and the letters of Cicero, the manuscript of which is preserved in the Laurentian Library at Florence, with the copy which he had made from it. He equally recovered some of Cicero’s orations which had been lost; and it is further known that he had preserved the famous treatise De Gloria; but having lent it to his master Convennole, this old man sold it for subsistence, and Petrarch afterwards attempted in vain to trace it out, as well as the Antiquities of Varro, which he had seen in his youth, and a book of letters and epigrams ascribed to Augustus. It was he also who first made Sophocles known in Italy; and his avidity for manuscripts had become so generally understood, that he received from Constantinople a complete copy of the poems of Homer, without having even asked for it. After the gift which he made to Venice, as already mentioned, he lost no time in forming another library. In an age when chronology and geography were still unknown, he had made a chronological collection of imperial medals, and got together a very considerable number of geographical charts. He himself was the author of a map of Italy, which continued to be consulted a century after his death; and all his biographers have mentioned his researches respecting the island of Thule. In a word, his name, which is inseparable from those of Dante and Boccacio, would alone be sufficient to refute the assertion, too often repeated, that the revival of letters was a consequence of the capture of Constantinople by the Turks in the year 1453.

It is no doubt true, that the rest of Europe did not then possess men who had attained the same splendour and universality of fame. France, which had received from her troubadours the oldest modern literature, could only boast of a few learned men; such as Nicoas Oresme, who enjoyed the esteem of Petrarch, but is better known by his translations, and by a discourse in which he denounced to the pope himself the scandals of the pontifical court; and Pierre Berchoire, author of a kind of encyclopaedia, coin-piled in the spirit and style of the schools, and which he appears to have composed at Avignon. King John, and after him Charles V. collected the first volumes of the Royal Library; and Froissart, who by his simple and artless history does so much honour to the literature of France, commenced, under the latter prince, that series of French poets which has never since been interrupted. The praises of Laura diffused amongst the women a taste for Italian poetry; and one lady, whose name still survives in literary history, Justina de Levis, addressed a sonnet to Petrarch, which elicited from his gallantry or judgment warm commendation. Chaucer, who was preparing to found a literature in England, saw him in Italy, and was perhaps indebted to him for the acquaintance of Boccacio, whom he has so frequently imitated in his works. Another Englishman, Richard de Bury, one of the correspondents of Petrarch, founded a library at Oxford, and diffused throughout his country a taste for books. As yet Spain had only her early historical romances, and some theologians; but two centuries later, the poetical admirer of Laura found in Boscan an imitator at the court of Castille, whilst Bembo, Tarsia, Moisa, and many others, opened in Italy the dangerous school of the Petrarchists.

The Letters of Petrarch, which were printed for the first time in 1484, though without the name of the place, are now regarded as the most curious portion of his Latin works. These letters, which were not written exclusively for his friends, contain valuable details in regard to his life, as well as the manners and the history, literary and political, of the fourteenth ceptury. The court of Avignon is by no means spared; and the author was too good an Italian not in some instances to overcharge a little his portraits. ‘ His [7:17:330]expression is animated, but not always natural, and his prose often betrays the poet. His books of moral philosophy somewhat resemble those common-places which were treated by the Greek rhetoricians of the middle age. That which he has entitled Remedies against both kinds of Fortune has for its object to show, that earthly goods are perishable, and that there exists no evil without a remedy.^[6. In the Archives Littéraires (tom. ii. pp. 259-286), Μ. de Gerando has translated some fragments of this very common-place dialogue under the title of the Philosophy of Petrarch {De la Philosophie de Pétrarque). ] The treatise De Otio Religiosorum was a tribute of complaisance to the Carthusian friars of Montrieu, amongst whom his brother had taken the habit of the order;^[7. Several biographers have given Petrarch a sister, who, they say, was beloved by Pope Benedict XII. This fable, which has been received without question by Protestants, and thoughtlessly repeated by Villaret, and even by Henry, is disproved by the fact, yvhìch Ginguene' has clearly established, namely, that Petrarch never had a sister. ] and it was at the urgent entreaty of Francesco de Carrara that he collected the principal maxims of Plato and Cicero on politics, under the title of De Republica optime administranda, which might have suited a more methodical and extended composition. The compilation in question, and his treatise De Officio et Virtutibus Imperatoris, were printed separately at Berne, 1602, in 12mo; and though these little works have since been effaced by so many other superior productions, yet they are the offspring of a judicious mind, which neither flattered authority on the one hand, nor disregarded the rights of mankind on the other. In his retreat at Arqua, he also wrote a truly philosophical work against the disciples of Aristotle, under this piquant denomination, De Ignorantia sui ipsius et multorum. His Historical Essays, of which some fragments have been preserved, entitled Rerum Memorandarum libri iv., in addition to the facts which he has borrowed from preceding writers, contain some particulars belonging to contemporaneous history, which are nowhere else to be found. The perusal of the Confessions of St Augustin appears to have suggested to him the most singular of all his compositions, namely, the three dialogues, De Contemptu Mundi, to which he attached so much importance as to call them “his secret.” The author communes with St Augustin on his own character, tastes,and weaknesses; he confesses his faults with the simplicity of childhood, and, on the other hand, St Augustin lectures him with an authority tempered by mildness, and a dignity softened by sympathizing benevolence.

The harangues of Petrarch are not always exempt from declamation, and, more than any of his other productions, betray the influence of the false taste against which he so successfully strove. But his Latin poetry has particular claims to the attention of men of letters. His poem of Africa has been compared to those pictures and statues, the productions of the infancy of art, which, without augmenting its glory, may be examined with advantage by those who desire to study its progress. It is a detailed recital of the second Punic war, but almost always cold and colourless. It is a chronicle rather than a poem, and appears as if it had been left unfinished. The mens divinior is wanting; invention there is none; and we are astonished to find that the poetry of Virgil produced so little inspiration. His eclogues, like those of Boccacio, are almost always satirical allegories, having reference to contemporaneous events. The tenth is consecrated to the memory of Laura. In his three books of Epistles, versified with more facility than might have been expected in that iron age, there are some interesting and instructive details. In fact, the Latin diction of Petrarch, though generally superior to the bald and rude style of his contemporaries, is nevertheless far below that of his models. His composition is vigorous without being harsh, and on some occasions he is deficient neither in elegance nor in energy; but he more frequently reminds us of St Augustin than of Cicero, whom he professed not only to admire, but to imitate. Still, it was on his Latin works that Petrarch founded his claims to distinction as an author; and, what is not a little remarkable, this was also the error of Boccacio. These misjudgments of genius, of which we have examples both in Homer and in Milton, as well as in the two illustrious men we have just named, would form a curious subject of literary speculation, were this the place in which it could with propriety be discussed.

But Petrarch’s best title to distinction rests upon his Canzoniere. It is there that he shows himself truly inspired, and displays in profusion all the riches of his original genius. The ancient erotic poets, strangers to any ennobling sentiment, had celebrated pleasure rather than love. That respect for women which had so long existed amongst the nations of the North; that worship of beauty, ennobled by the still recent recollections of chivalry; those feats of valour which were days of triumph to the ladies; all this was wanting to pagan society. Petrarch, therefore, stands alone, because his passion resembled nothing which the ancients had known. The early songs of the troubadours had embodied the natural expression of the manners of chivalry. The examples which they had presented, the traditions which they had left, as well as the unfortunate refinements of the Italians, their imitators, and the idle subtleties of the courts of love, a sad parody of the forms, and often of the obscurities, of the schools, had created amongst the moderns a language to which rhyme added its shackles; a language which was no longer the vulgar language, but yet was not that of poetry. To this the lover of Laura imparted all that the superiority of his genius had taught him. We have seen that he had studied Plato. But although his mind had, unaided, divined the disciple of Socrates, yet that union of souls which the philosopher had sometimes dreamed of was as remote from the sentiment which inspired Petrarch as the domestic manners of the Greeks differed from those of the fourteenth century. It was not Platonic love which had animated the poet; it was love such as Christianity and chivalry had made it. This love, which the corruption of our age has pronounced supernatural, is poetical in a very different sense from that which inspired Propertius and Ovid. It no doubt wants movement and variety; but it has a true and penetrating warmth, an elevation which rises to the sublime, and a purity which has in it something almost celestial. Petrarch was the first, and for a long time the only poet, who made a virtue of love. The Italian, created by Dante, had even after his time retained somewhat of that harshness which is still apt to shock the reader in some parts of his Inferno. Petrarch formed for himself a language, as Dante had done; his turns of expression are almost as bold; above all, he reproduced those graces of colouring and that delicious harmony with which Dante had related the misfortunes of his Francesea; and, after the publication of the Canzoniere, the Italian idiom ceased to have in it any thing barbarous. When we read the verses of Petrarch, we can almost fancy that we hear the sound of his lyre, from which, on every occasion, he extracts sounds of an ineffable sweetness. In the first part, where he celebrates the perfections of Laura, his expression becomes dreamy or ecstatic; in the second, where he laments his mistress, his song has a solemn and penetrating accent. Sometimes he lends his lute to chant the lessons of philosophy; at other times it is the Hebrew harp resounding the maledictions of the prophets, or a Roman muse bewailing the debasement and misfortunes of her country. Those who [7:17:331] love comparisons and coincidences have remarked, that the sonnets, from their form, remind us of some of the smaller odes of Horace, and, for grace as well as simplicity of details, recall the manner of the poet of Teos. For this kind of poetry Petrarch was indebted to his predecessors; but it was he who rendered these little poems more perfect and more difficult; and the laws which his example prescribed have not yet been abrogated.

The Canzoni of Petrarch, which have been improperly rendered Chansοηs ∖ yy Voltaire, are odes the form of which he borrowed from the troubadours, whilst to the substance he imparted the elevation and dignity of epic composition. The Italians have exhausted all the prescriptive terms of admiration upon those which Petrarch appears to have preferred, and which he called the Three Sisters, odes which his commentators have since named the Three Graces. The eyes of Laura form the subject of these three odes, which are the eighteenth, nineteenth, and twentieth of the collection. But whatever may be the perfection of style for which they are distinguished, a reader of the present day will always find difficulty in comprehending the long literary superstition of which they have been the object. Graver readers will no doubt prefer the Canzone on the crusade, which is the fifth in the collection, and that magnificent ode, so truly national, in which the poet retraces, en traits de feu, the oppression of his beloved Italy, and shows her bleeding and mutilated, yet still full of glory, and capable of recovering from her wounds; compositions so little known to those superficial litterateurs who have mistaken a man of the greatest⅛enius, who formed a language and created a literature, for á mere grinder of madrigals. All those who know the language of Petrarch have cited, amongst the monuments of his love, the celebrated sonnets,

Solo e pensoso i più deserti campi

Vo misurando a passi tardi e lenti; E gli occhi porto, per fuggire, intenti Dove vestigio uman la rena stampi, being the twenty-eighth of the first part; and

Levommi il mio pensier in parte ov’era Quella ch’ io cerco e non ritrovo in terra: Ivi fra lor che ’ 1 terzo cerchio serra, La rividi più bella, e meno altera, which is the thirty-fourth of the second part; besides many other Canzoni not less admired, amongst which it would be difficult to make a selection. We shall only refer our readers to the twenty-seventh, the first strophe of which has been so happily imitated by Voltaire. The latter, however, has not been equally fortunate in his judgment of Petrarch; and Sismondi, without indulging in the same levity, has shown himself almost equally severe. But the monotony with which Petrarch has been reproached is perhaps rather a defect inherent in the particular species than one peculiar to the poet. The lover of Laura bewails himself, since complain he must, and this eternal lamentation is without doubt sometimes fatiguing; but love rejoices in such repetitions; and Petrarch has varied as much as possible this uniformity, by pictures of rustic life full of natural grace and simplicity, or by high and ennobling religious contemplations. We do not say, however, that his poems, and especially his sonnets, have escaped all tincture of the prevailing taste of his age. On the contrary, he is often more ingenious than natural, and more elaborate than correct; but a re-perusal of the second half of the Canzomere, which is very generally preferred to the first, must satisfy any reader that nothing short of extreme injustice or inveterate prejudice can construe into a mere play of words or sport of ingenuity a grief which is stamped with all the characteristics of truth, deep feeling, and sincerity.

The most complete edition of the works of Petrarch is that of Basel, 1581, in folio, which wants only a certain number of Letters, comprised in that of Geneva, 1601. The most ancient edition of his Latin works also bears the name of Basel, where it appeared in 1496, in folio. But it is in the libraries of Italy that his Letters and his Autograph Manuscripts must be sought for. The treatise De Remediis utriusque Fortunae was printed at Cologne, 1471, in 4to, and has been thrice translated into French; and the historical work entitled Vite de , Pontefici et Impera-dori Romani, which has now become exceedingly scarce, appeared at Florence, 1478, in folio, and is still much sought after, as one of the most ancient monuments of Italian prose. In later times, his Italian poems alone have bech reprinted. The first edition, containing the Sonetti and the Trionfi, is that of Venice, 1470, in large 4to. Amongst the subsequent editions, the most esteemed are, 1. Le Cose Volgari, by Aldus Manutius, Venice, 1501, in 8vo; 2. Il Petrarca, Lyons, 1574, in 16to; 3. Le Rime di Petrarca, Padua, 1722, in 8vo; 4. A reprint of the same, with notes by Muratori, Venice, 1727, in 4to; 5. The editions of Bodoni, 1799, in two vols. folio and 8vo; 6. That of Morelli, the librarian, with Remarks by Beccadelli, Verona, 1799, in two small vols. 8vo; 7. That which forms part of the Biblioteca Poetica Italiana, published by But-tura, and printed by Didot the elder, Paris, in three small vols.; and, 8. The edition, with Commentaries, published by Biagioli in 1822, in 8vo. Petrarch is said to have been the subject of twenty-five distinct biographies, exclusive of the sketches of his life given in collections. Of these lives, the most copious, though by no means the most accurate, is that of the Abbé de Sade; and as to Lord Woodhouselee’s Historical and Critical Essay on the Life and Character of Petrarch, published in 1810, Lord Byron has dryly remarked, “Thanks to the critical acumen of a Scotchman, we know as little of Laura as ever.” (a.)