Introduction to the Literature of Europe in the Fifteenth, Sixteenth, and Seventeenth Centuries, Vol. 1

CHAPTER XVI.

Chapter 553,206 wordsPublic domain

HISTORY OF POLITE LITERATURE IN PROSE FROM 1550 TO 1600.

SECT. I.

_Style of best Italian Writers--Those of France--England._

|Italian writers.|

|Casa.|

|Tasso.|

1. I am not aware that we can make any great distinction in the character of the Italian writers of this and the preceding period, though they are more numerous in the present. Some of these have been already mentioned on account of their subjects. In point of style, to which we now chiefly confine ourselves, Casa is esteemed among the best.[1300] The Galateo is certainly diffuse, but not so languid as some contemporary works; nor do we find in it, I think, so many of the inversions which are common blemishes in the writings of this age. The prose of Tasso is placed by Corniani almost on a level with his poetry for beauty of diction. “We find in it,” he says, “dignity, rhythm, elegance, and purity without affectation, and perspicuity without vulgarity. He is never trifling or verbose, like his contemporaries of that century; but endeavours to fill every part of his discourses with meaning.”[1301] These praises may be just, but there is a tediousness in the moral essays of Tasso, which, like most other productions of that class, assert what the reader has never seen denied, and distinguish what he is in no danger of confounding.

[1300] Corniani, v. 174. Parini called the Galateo, Capo d’opera di nostra lingua.

[1301] Corniani, vi. 240.

|Firenzuola. Character of Italian prose.|

2. Few Italian writers, it is said by the editors of the voluminous Milan collection, have united equally with Firenzuola the most simple naïveté to a delicate sweetness, that diffuses itself over the heart of the reader. His dialogue on the Beauty of Women is reckoned one of the best of his works. It is diffuse, but seems to deserve the praise bestowed upon its language. His translation of the Golden Ass of Apuleius is read with more pleasure than the original. The usual style of Italian prose in this, accounted by some its best age, is elaborate, ornate, yet not to excess, with a rhythmical structure apparently much studied, very rhetorical and for the most part trivial, as we should now think, in its matter. The style of Machiavel, to which, perhaps the reader’s attention was not sufficiently called while we were concerned with his political philosophy, is eminent for simplicity, strength, and clearness. It would not be too much to place him at the head of the prose writers of Italy. But very few had the good taste to emulate so admirable a model. “They were apt to presume,” says Corniani, “that the spirit of good waiting consisted in the artificial employment of rhetorical figures. They hoped to fertilize the soil barren of argument by such resources. They believed that they should become eloquent by accumulating words upon words, and phrases upon phrases, hunting on every side for metaphors, and exaggerating the most trifling theme by frigid hyperboles.”[1302]

[1302] Corniani, vi. 52.

|Italian letter-writers.|

3. A treatise on Painting, by Raffaelle Borghino, published in 1584, called Il Riposo, is highly praised for its style by the Milan editors; but it is difficult for a foreigner to judge so correctly of these delicacies of language, as he may of the general merits of composition. They took infinite pains with their letters, great numbers of which have been collected. Those of Annibal Caro are among the best known;[1303] but Pietro Aretino, Paolo Manuzio, and Bonfadio are also celebrated for their style. The appearance of labour and affectation is still less pleasing in epistolary correspondence than in writings more evidently designed for the public eye; and there will be found abundance of it in these Italian writers, especially in addressing their superiors. Cicero was a model perpetually before their eyes, and whose faults they did not perceive. Yet perhaps the Italian writings of this period, with their flowing grace, are more agreeable than the sententious antitheses of the Spaniards. Both are artificial, but the efforts of the one are bestowed on diction and cadence, those of the other display a constant strain to be emphatic and profound. What Cicero was to Italy, Seneca became to Spain.

[1303] It is of no relevancy to the history of literature, but in one of Caro’s letters to Bernardo Tasso about 1544, he censures the innovation of using the third person in addressing a correspondent. Tutto questo secolo (dice Monsignor de la Casa) è adulatore; ognuno che scrive dà de le signorie; ognuno, a chi si scrive, le vuole; e non pure i grandi, ma i mezzani e i plebei quasi aspirano a questi gran nomi, e si tengono anco per affronto, se non gli hanno, e d’errore son notati quelli, che non gli danno. Cosa, che a me pare stranissima e stomachosa, che habbiamo a parlar con uno, come se fosse un altro, e tutta via in astratto, quasi con la idea di colui, con chi si parla, non con la persona sua propria. Pure l’abuso è gia fatto, ed è generale, &c., lib. i. p. 122. (edit. 1581.) I have found the third person used as early as a letter of Paolo Manuzio to Castlevetro in 1543; but where there was any intimacy with an equal rank, it is not much employed; nor is it always found in that age in letters to men of very high rank from their inferiors.

|Davanzati’s Tacitus.|

4. An exception to the general character of diffuseness is found in the well-known translation of Tacitus by Davanzati. This, it has often been said, he has accomplished in fewer words than the original. No one, as in the story of the fish, which was said to weigh less in water than out of it, inquires into the truth of what is confidently said, even where it is obviously impossible. But whoever knows the Latin and Italian languages must know that a translation of Tacitus into Italian cannot be made in fewer words. It will be found, as might be expected, that Davanzati has succeeded by leaving out as much as was required to compensate the difference that articles and auxiliary verbs made against him. His translation is also censured by Corniani,[1304] as full of obsolete terms and Florentine vulgarisms.

[1304] vi. 58.

|Jordano Bruno.|

5. We can place under no better head than the present, much of that lighter literature which, without taking the form of romance, endeavours to amuse the reader by fanciful invention and gay remark. The Italians have much of this; but it is beyond our province to enumerate productions of no great merit or renown. Jordano Bruno’s celebrated Spaccio della Bestia Trionfante is one of this class. Another of Bruno’s light pieces is entitled, La Cabala del Cavallo Pegaseo, con l’Aggiunta del’Asino Cillenico. This has more profaneness in it than the Spaccio della Bestia. The latter, as is well known, was dedicated to Sir Philip Sydney; as was also another little piece, Gli Eroici Furori. In this he has a sonnet addressed to the English ladies: “Dell’Inghilterra o Vaghe Ninfe e Belle;” but ending, of course, with a compliment, somewhat at the expense of these beauties, to “l’unica Diana Qual’è trà voi quel, che tra gl’astri il sole.” It had been well for Bruno if he had kept himself under the protection of Diana. The “chaste beams of that watery moon” were less scorching than the fires of the Inquisition.

|French writers. Amyot.|

6. The French generally date the beginning of an easy and natural style in their own language from the publication of James Amyot’s translation of Plutarch in 1559. Some earlier writers, however, have been mentioned in another place, and perhaps some might have been added. The French style of the sixteenth century is for the most part diffuse, endless in its periods, and consequently negligent of grammar; but it was even then lively and unaffected, especially in narration, the memoirs of that age being still read with pleasure. Amyot, according to some, knew Greek but indifferently, and was perhaps on that account a better model of his own language; but if he did not always render the meaning of Plutarch, he has made Plutarch’s reputation, and that, in some measure, of those who have taken Plutarch for their guide. It is well known how popular, more perhaps than any other ancient, this historian and moralist has been in France; but it is through Amyot that he has been read. The style of his translator, abounding with the native idiom, and yet enriching the language, not at that time quite copious enough for its high vocation in literature, with many words which usage and authority have recognised, has always been regarded with admiration, and by some, in the prevalence of a less natural taste, with regret. It is in French prose what that of Marot is in poetry, and suggests, not an uncultivated simplicity, but the natural grace of a young person, secure of appearing to advantage, but not at bottom indifferent to doing so. This naïveté, a word which, as we have neither naturalised nor translated it, I must adopt, has ever since been the charm of good writing in France. It is, above all, the characteristic of one who may justly be called the disciple of Amyot, and who extols him above all other writers in the language--Montaigne. The fascination of Montaigne’s manner is acknowledged by all who read him; and with a worse style, or one less individually adapted to his character, he would never have been the favourite of the world.[1305]

[1305] See the articles on Amyot in Baillet, iv. 428, Bayle, La Harpe. Biogr. Universelle. Préface aux Œuvres de Pascal, par Neufchateau.

|Montaigne; Du Vair.|

7. In the essays of Montaigne a few passages occur of striking, though simple eloquence. But it must be admitted that the familiar idiomatic tone of Amyot was better fitted to please than to awe, to soothe the mind than to excite it, to charm away the cares of the moment than to impart a durable emotion. It was also so remote from the grand style which the writings of Cicero and the precepts of rhetoric had taught the learned world to admire, that we cannot wonder to find some who sought to model their French by a different standard. The only one of these, so far as I am aware, that falls within the sixteenth century is Du Vair, a man not less distinguished in public life than in literature, having twice held the great seals of France under Louis XIII. “He composed,” says a modern writer, “many works, in which he endeavoured to be eloquent; but he fell into the error, at that time so common, of too much wishing to Latinise our mother tongue. He has been charged with fabricating words, such as sponsion, cogitation, contumélie, dilucidite, contemnement, &c.”[1306] Notwithstanding these instances of bad taste which, when collected, seem more monstrous than as they are dispersed in his writings, Du Vair is not devoid of a flowing eloquence, which, whether perfectly congenial to the spirit of the language or not, has never wanted its imitators and admirers, and those very successful and brilliant, in French literature.[1307] It was of course the manner of the bar and of the pulpit after the pulpit laid aside its buffoonery, far more than that of Amyot and Montaigne.

[1306] Neufchateau, in Préface à Pascal, p. 181. Bouterwek, v. 326, praises Du Vair, but he does not seem a favourite with his compatriot critics.

[1307] Du Vair’s Essay de la Constance et Consolations ès Malheurs Publiques, of which the first edition is in 1594, furnishes some eloquent declamation in a style unlike that of Amyot. Repassez en votre memorie l’histoire de toute l’antiquité; et quand vous trouverez un magistrat qui aura eu grand credit envers un peuple, ou auprès d’un prince, et qui se sera voulu comporter vertueusement, dites hardiment; Je gage que cestui-ci a été banni, que cestui-ci a été tué, qui cestui-ci a été empoisonné. A Athènes, Aristidès, Themistoclès, et Phocion; à Rome infinis desquels je laisse les noms pour n’emplir le papier, me contentant de Camille, Scipion, et Ciceron pour l’antiquité, de Papinien pour les temps des empereurs Romains, et de Boece sous les Gots. Mais pourquoi le prenons nous si haut. Qui avons nous vu de notre siècle tenir les sceaux de France, qui n’ait été mis en cette charge, pour en être dejetté avec contumelie? Celui qui auroit vu M. le Chancelier Olivier, ou M. le Chancelier de l’Hospital, partir de la cour pour se retirer en leurs maisons, n’auroit jamais envié de tels honneurs, ni de tels charges. Imaginez vous ces braves et venerables vieillards, esquels reluisoient toutes sortes de vertus, et esquels entre une infinité de grandes parties vous n’cussiez sçu que choisir, remplis d’erudition, consommez ès affaires, amateurs, de leur patrie, vraiment dignes de telles charges, si le siècle eust été digne d’eux. Apres avoir longuement et fidèlement servis la patrie, on leur dresse des querelles d’Allemans, et de fausses accusations pour les bannir des affaires, on plutot pour en priver les affaires; comme un navire agité de la conduite de si sages et experts pilotes, afin de le faire plus aisément briser, p. 76 (edit. 1604.)

|Satire Menippée.|

8. It is not in my power to communicate much information as to the minor literature of France. One book may be named as being familiarly known, the Satire Menippée. The first edition bears the date of 1593, but is said not to have appeared till 1594, containing some allusions to events of that year. It is a ridicule on the proceedings of the League, who were then masters of Paris, and has commonly been ascribed to Leroy, canon of Rouen, though Passerat, Pithou, Rapin, and others, are said to have had some share in it. This book is historically curious, but I do not perceive that it displays any remarkable degree of humour or invention. The truth appears so much throughout, that it cannot be ranked among works of fiction.[1308]

[1308] Biog. Univ. Vigneul-Marville, i. 197.

|English writers.|

|Ascham.|

9. In the scanty and obscure productions of the English press under Edward and Mary, or in the early years of Elizabeth, we should search, I conceive, in vain for any elegance or eloquence in writing. Yet there is an increasing expertness and fluency, and the language insensibly rejecting obsolete forms, the manner of our writers is less uncouth, and their sense more pointed and perspicuous than before. Wilson’s Art of Rhetorique is at least a proof that some knew the merits of a good style, if they did not yet bring their rules to bear on their own language. In Wilson’s own manner there is nothing remarkable. The first book which can be worth naming at all is Ascham’s Schoolmaster, published in 1570, and probably written some years before. Ascham is plain and strong in his style, but without grace or warmth; his sentences have no harmony of structure. He stands, however, as far as I have seen, above all other writers in the first half of the queen’s reign. The best of these, like Reginald Scott, express their meaning well, but with no attempt at a rhythmical structure or figurative language; they are not bad writers, because their solid sense is aptly conveyed to the mind; but they are not good, because they have little selection of words, and give no pleasure by means of Style. Puttenham is perhaps the first who wrote a well-measured prose; in his Art of English Poesie, published in 1586, he is elaborate, studious of elevated and chosen expression, and rather diffuse, in the manner of the Italians of the sixteenth century, who affected that fulness of style, and whom he probably meant to imitate. But in these later years of the queen, when almost every one was eager to be distinguished for sharp wit or ready learning, the want of good models of writing in our own language gave rise to some perversion of the public taste. Thoughts and words began to be valued, not as they were just and natural, but as they were removed from common apprehension, and most exclusively the original property of those who employed them. This in poetry showed itself in affected conceits and in prose led to the pedantry of recondite mythological allusion, and of a Latinised phraseology.

|Euphues of Lilly.|

10. The most remarkable specimen of this class is the Euphues of Lilly, a book of little value, but which deserves notice on account of the influence it is recorded to have had upon the court of Elizabeth; an influence also over the public taste, which is manifested in the literature of the age. It is divided into two parts, having separate titles; the first, “Euphues, the Anatomy of Wit;” the second, “Euphues and his England.” This is a very dull story of a young Athenian, whom the author places at Naples in the first part and brings to England in the second; it is full of dry commonplaces. The style which obtained celebrity is antithetical, and sententious to affectation; the perpetual effort with no adequate success rendering the book equally disagreeable and ridiculous, though it might not be difficult to find passages rather more happy and ingenious than the rest. The following specimen is taken at random, and though sufficiently characteristic, is perhaps rather unfavourable to Lilly, as a little more affected and empty than usual.

11. “The sharpest north-east wind, my good Euphues, doth never last three days, tempests have but a short time, and the more violent the thunder is, the less permanent it is. In the like manner it falleth out with jars and carpings of friends, which, begun in a moment, are ended in a moment. Necessary it is that among friends there should be some thwarting, but to continue in anger not convenient: the camel first troubleth the water before he drink; the frankincense is burned before it smell; friends are tried before they be trusted, lest, shining like the carbuncle as though they had fire, they be found, being touched, to be without fire. Friendship should be like the wine, which Homer much commending calleth Maroneum, whereof one pint being mingled with five quarts of water, yet it keepeth his old strength and virtue, not to be qualified by any discurtesie. Where salt doth grow nothing else can breed; where friendship is built no offence can harbour. Then, Euphues, let the falling out of friends be the renewing of affection, that in this we may resemble the bones of the lion, which, lying still and not moved, begin to rot, but being stricken one against another, break out like fire, and wax green.”

12. “The lords and gentlemen in that court (of Elizabeth) are also an example,” he says in a subsequent passage, “for all others to follow, true types of nobility, the only stay and staff of honour, brave courtiers, stout soldiers, apt to revel in peace and ride in war. In fight fierce, not dreading death; in friendship firm, not breaking promise; courteous to all that deserve well, cruel to none that deserve