Italy, Past and Present. BY L. MARIOTTI. 2 vols.
London, John Chapman, 1848.

MR. MARIOTTI's work is well-timed. Italy, at all times a deeply interesting subject of study, is just now an object of lively attention. The phenomenon of a reforming pope has excited the wonder of the whole civilized world, and the hopes of the progressive party in Italy to no ordinary degree. At such a crisis we want a work, written by a competent authority, which shall enable us, at no great labour of research, to possess ourselves of a clear and comprehensive idea of the present condition of Italy politically, morally, intellectually, and socially. We want to understand what are the foundations for hope of advance there; to know whether the people give sufficient resting-place by their national and personal qualities, for our sympathies and congratulations. Perhaps we could not have a better expositor of the required facts than Mr. Mariotti. He has lived long in England, and is almost equally well acquainted with those for whom, as of whom he writes. He writes the best English style of any foreigner that ever came under our observations. There are, now and then, slight indications of the want of perfect acquaintance with our language; but these instances are rare, and the general style is vigorous, copious, and often eloquent.

As regards his views, also, he displays a great breadth and liberality, soundness, and impartiality. He has lived long enough amongst us to understand us well, and speaks of us with a manly independence that, even while he criticises our national peculiarities, wins our confidence by its justice. Nor is he blind to the faults of his own country and countrymen. With every hope of them for the future, he details the weakness and wants of both with equal patriotism and candour. He is soundly religious in his views without superstition or bigotry, and a zealous reformer, at the same time that he is an admirer of moral force. For these reasons we avow that we rely very much on his statements, and are of opinion that no where else can the English reader obtain in so short a time, and so agreeable a manner, anything like so lucid and correct a view of " Italy Past and Present."

Under these brilliant names we have a most able, clever, and charming exposition of all that relates to, or can be comprised in a work of popular extent and character of the history, fine arts, politics, poetry, and philosophy of the nation. We confess to having derived from it a better notion of this interesting land, and its people, than from any other work. We are glad to learn from such an authority, of the firm hold that the moral force principle has taken of the leaders of Italian progress, and of the daily evidences of a spirit of union and cooperation amongst them for the restoration in Italy, not of shreds and patches, of petty principalities and petty interests, but of a great country, as it deserves to be.

In the second volume, we would particularly recommend to the reader the chapters on D'Azeglio, Gioberti, and Pius IX., as giving him a clue to the prevailing themes of political and religious reform agitating, or has resided so many years, and excited so much attenrather influencing, Italy. As Joseph Mazzini, however, tion in this country, it may be as well to quote a few passages regarding him. Many of our readers are probably not aware that he was the originator of the idea of Young Italy, Young France, Young Germany, Young England, etc. Nor are many aware how much Italy has outgrown his doctrine of physical force.


'Amongst the swarm of exiles which the calamities of 1831 drove to the French shores, a young enthusiast made his appearance, unknown as yet to the multitude, but uniting the boldest ambition to the highest capacities; a man of firm principles; of that pale, bilions temperament, so common in southern climates, whose passions all obey but themselves-a man born to rule; of that stuff of which, under favourable circumstances, Robespierres are made, or Napoleons; but who, in quieter times, are too readily set down as hommes manquis, or visionaries; a young student, a Genoese of good extraction and parentage-Giuseppe Mazzini.

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"It was in June, 1831, that he first made himself known in France, though his contributions to the Antologia Firenze, ought to have won him reputation before-by his address to Charles Albert of Savoy, on his accession to the throne of Sardinia, inviting him not to disappoint the expectations he had raised in Italy in 1820, when, being only Prince of Carignano, and presumptive heir to the throne, he was hailed as King of Italy, and styled himself the chief of all the Carbonari in the country. That address of Mazzini was a flash of divine eloquence, such as never before shone over Italy. His companions in misfortune gathered in adoration, and bent before his powerful genius. There was that in his massive brow, in his dark commanding eye, that at once set him apart from the common herd. In the first prime of youth, a beauty of the first order, and a frank and manly, yet winning and suasive address, gave him an easy victory over men's minds through their hearts. He did not fail to make the best of this well-deserved popularity. Ere the year had elapsed, he became the heart and soul of the Italian movement. He was the ruler of a state of his own creation-the King of Young Italy.

The first volume, of course, comprehends the past; "He established himself at Marseilles as editor of a the second, the present. The author divides the first journal, called after the name of the new sect of which volume into periods, and heads all his chapters in both it was the intended organ, La Giovine Italia.' Sevevolumes with the name of some celebrated person who ral numbers of that journal appeared at different intermay be supposed to have influenced the era of his ex-vals in the course of that and the following year. Mazistence. Thus, in the first volume, stand at the head of zini wrote the best part of its contents. In fact, he successive chapters, the names of Dante, Petrarch, never was seconded efficient contributors. Either beBoccaccio, Macchiavello, Michael Angelo, Ariosto, Tasso, cause the management of his vast plans of conspiracy Vittoria Colonna, Galileo, Alfieri, Napoleon. In the engrossed too much of his time, or because his genius second, Mazzini, Foscolo, Manzoni, Grosi, Pellico, Giusti, was wearied and exhausted at its very first start, his arLitta, Mayer, Anna Pepoli, Gioberti, D'Azeglio, ticles seemed to have lost not a little of that calmness Pius IX. and serenity, of that dignity and temperance which characterised his first effort. The fretful jealousy of his fellow-exiles was easily alarmed by what they called his imperious ambition, his sweeping exclusiveness. The most high-minded and generous of his associates fell from him one by one; and, compelled to rely on the co-operation of blindly-devoted but indiscreet and incautious partizans, he hurried on his insurrectional schemes, leading to the more disgraceful than disastrous invasion of Savoy in 1833. Many an ardent patriot would have withdrawn from active life after so signal a defeat. Not so Mazzini. Humbled, but not disheartened-anxious to throw all the blame upon General Romarino, the military leader of the expedition,

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he widened still further the breach already existing between him and the moderate party. Disappointed in his plans by the new and more Catholic associations of 'Young France,' Young Poland,' 'Young Switzerland,' and, finally, Young Europe,' all of these based on his original notion that of the expediency of trusting political movements with young, and consequently unpledged and uncompromising leaders-a notion which, under the strangest modifications and misconceptions, was destined to make the tour of the globe.

Mazzini's views, however, were at first perfectly correct, and had arisen from the conviction, of the utter impotence, imbecility, and even insincerity of the old Carbonari, who had hitherto had the upper hand in Italian affairs. Mazzini undertook to break the idols of the Italian patriots; to do away with the prestige of illustrious names-all was to be achieved by the people and for the people.' The revolution should acknowledge no leaders, save only such as might spring from its own bosom. The national cause should henceforth obey the impulse of new men, proceeding upon new principles-young belicvers, wedded to no preconceived system, who would disavow and trample upon the craven dictates of a timid, temporising policy, the wily intrigues of foreign diplomacy, who would march straight to their aim, regardless of all odds and chances, trusting to God only, and themselves, and the sanctity of

their cause.

aptly calls the tomb of living reputations,' the great world of London. Visited with awe and misgiving by the few young Italians who would snatch a passport from the reluctant hands of a jealous police, dignifying a few honest teachers and artisans, and others of his humbler countrymen established in London into a national association-an object of the vain regrets and longings of the rising generation, of the mistrust and rancours of the base Italian governments, who persisted in looking upon him as the unattainable head of the revolutionary hydra,

"By deepest pity here pursued,
And hate no less profound;

By love no fear could quell, by rage
No length of time assuage."'

he resigned himself to a life of silence and loneliness, satisfied with the foundation of an Italian school for mendicant organ-boys, in which he employed all his energies with the same zeal and earnestness as Macchiavello displayed in his diplomatic transactions between two rival communities of nuns; and, like a man conscious of the extent of his powers, no less than of the uprightness of his intentions, he was 'biding his time."


The English Government thought proper to draw him from his retreat. The unknown writer of anonymous articles in the "Westminster Review" was dignified into a dangerous political character. By a base treachery which, up to the present time, was deemed utterly unEnglish, the Secretary of State made himself subservient to the demands of foreign espionage, outdid, by superior cunning, the dirtiest tricks of the most abject continental police, and, upon detection of his flagrant abuse of power and breach of confidence, he attempted to vindicate his conduct by the wilful repetition of long-exploded, long-forgotten falsehoods against the man he had wronged.

In the pursuance of such principles, the apostle was gradually left alone. The hopes of the lovers of Italy began to be grounded on mild and moderate measures. The revolution was to be effected by the ascendancy of moral force. D'Azeglio, Balbo, and the party now at the head of the Italian movement, gained the ear of the multitude. Mazzini was left to himself, and the few closely acquainted with him, whose devotion to the loftiness of his mind and heart was paramount to all prudential considerations. In common with all men of really transcendent abilities, of truly elevated character, "Mazzini came out of that disgraceful contest with all it was the lot of Mazzini to be cordially hated by such the honours of the day. That insane persecution secured as knew him least, and would, nevertheless, have been for him, in England, that public respect and sympathy his worthiest associates; and loved with utter blindness to which his talents and integrity, no less than his misby those who could neither comprehend nor aid him. fortunes, would otherwise have entitled him. It had Certainly, none of his intimates ever voluntarily fell not, however, nor could it, add much to his reputation away from his friendship; but subservient affection, or influence in Italy. New ideas had long been springill-judged deference, contributed no less than ill-groun- ing up in that country, to which Mazzini was, from the ded aversion to obstruct his judgment and hurry his de- first, too utterly a stranger ever to be willing to adopt liberations. Out of so many who sided for or against them. The principles of Liberty and equality,'' Unity him, Mazzini never had a friend or an enemy worthy of and Independance,' on which the National Association him hardly ever an agent that was not a passive in- was originally based, were no longer deemed practicable. strument in his hands. Together with a gentleness-Their very utterance was deemed in the highest degree an almost feminine tenderness of outward manner-he impolitical. Mazzini's position was now untenable; combined the utmost stubbornness of conviction, and and, as he was too well known for his unconquerable the fiercest intolerance of contradiction-Co-operation consistency and tenacity of purpose, he was left to with him must imply blind uncontradicted compliance. perish alone, or with those few blind enthusiasts-like "Involved in rash attempts against all governments, the ill-fated Bandiera and their accomplices-who still condemned to death in Italy, banished from France, continued true to the militant faith of Italy. proscribed in Switzerland, he finally sought the only refuge against political persecution-the free soil of Old England. With a shattered constitution and a broken heart, a disappointed man, in spite of all his asseverations to the contrary, he engaged in the harmless pur-rights; or to fancy that any remnant of feudal or pasuit of a literary career, diving, perhaps, too deeply into trician interests might clash with the spread of purely the dreams and vagaries of French communism, and republican principles; or that the least shadow of loy choosing his associates among the English radicals and alty lurks in Italian hearts in behalf of any of the royal socialists, a grovelling, calculating race, as widely re- dynasties now in existence. We have said it; the moved from the chivalrous disinterestedness of the Italians are all, at heart, republicans. Were the desItalian republican, as a London fog from the golden tinies of the country to be settled to-morrow by the vapours of an Italian summer evening. return of universal suffrage, the result would most undoubtedly be what Mazzini, and a thousand before him

"It would not be reasonable, however, to conclude that any well-meaning Italian entertains ideas greatly at variance with Mazzini's, as to the justice of his country's claims to the full enjoyment of her independent

"In a vain endeavour to bring their ideas to bear some resemblance to his own luminous, however Uto-proclaimed, 'The Italian Republic one and indivisible.'"' pian theories, Mazzini was gradually sinking in silence and oblivion, engulphed in what Count Pecchio not un

* Manzoni.



On the 16th of November, 1846, two kind friends placed £10 in the hands of Edward William Bannan, aged then sixteen years and two months, that he might make his first step in life, in order to maintain himself.


His first step was to become the tenant of half an acre of garden ground. The staple of the land was good, but, owing to the negligence of the former tenant, it was full of weeds and large weed roots, and contained a vast vast number of stones. A drain which ran through it from the higher to the lower part had been neglected, so that the water it ought to have carried away, flowed over and saturated a large portion of the garden. He trenched the whole of the ground, from eighteen inches to two feet deep, as the soil required it, removed all the stones into a heap, and gathered together all the weeds and weed roots, and mixed them with lime and salt, so as to form a compost heap with them. In all these proceedings he was assisted up to April, 1847, by his brother, Richard Harrison Bannan, aged twelve years and eight months.

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The potatoes were planted in winter from 5 inches to 9 inches deep, and were manured with stable dung. As they came out, the ground was immediately filled with brocoli, borecole, cabbage, and savoys.

The carrots aud parsnips were sown in drills and manured with guano.

The beans were grown on the stiffest ground and manured with guano.

The peas were manured with guano.

The swede turnips were slightly manured with guano.

The radishes were not manured.

The shalotts were manured with guano.

The lettuces ditto,


The onions were sown broadcast and manured with guano.
The scarlet runners were manured with guano.
The cabbages were manured with guano.

The radishes having failed, the bed was used to prick out cabbages and other plants from the seed beds.

As the beans came out, the ground was cropped with brocoli. As the seed beds were cleared they were sown with stone turnips. The swedes were replaced by cabbages.

The onion, carrot, and parsnip ground was intended to be sown with turnips before potatoes, but the dry weather prevented this being done, and the ground is fallowing for potatoes.


The ground is now cropped for spring and winter, It is now free from weeds and stones. The compost heap is quite decayed and fit for use, it is worth 10s. Some of the stones have been used to pave a pig sty, some have been given away to neighbours, and the rest are saved for any future use. The drain has been cleaned out and deepened, and it effectually carries away the surplus water. The crops now in the ground are brocoli to the number of 710, brocoli 474, savoys 255, vanack and Sprotboro' cabbages 150, lettuces 435, Cornish cabbages 312, eight pounds, onions to shoot into scallions, a bed of turnips twelve feet by eight feet, and some small beds of red Dutch and flatpole cabbages, onions, carrots, and also 60 heads of celery.

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The potatoe crop was fair, some of the sets were destroyed in the ground by slugs, but the frost did not injure them.

The carrot and parsnip crops were good.

The bean crops were good.

The pea crops were good.

The swedes failed, owing to the very dry summer. The pig had all that was produced.

The radishes failed from the birds carrying away the seeds, in spite of all precautions.

The shalotts were a good crop, but were attacked by mildew after thay were housed, and four-fifths were spoiled.

The onions a good crop.

Scarlet runners very productive.

The cabbage crop was fair considering the dryness of the summer. Fine plants were produced.

The crop is going on well.

The dry weather is much against this crop which is light. They are going on well.

Drawn up by the cultivator himself.

We extract the following from the description of this bril-
liant Bazaar by our friend H. C. Wright, in the Liberator :—
I am in Faneuil Hall. It is 5 o'clock P.M., Christmas-day.
I am sitting on the platform, at the south end of the hall, fac-
ing the door of entrance at the north end. The hall, as I look
off from the platform, seems like a forest of evergreens; over
the platform are standing three beautiful cedars-one behind
it and one at each end-so that I am really sitting and writing

Across the
beneath cedar trees, and hid under their branches.
platform is a line, fastened at each end to the cedars, and on
the line hangs a splendid black satin visite, or cloak, the work
and contribution of Mary Welsh. On the left of the platform
is the Book-table, where sits Maria W. Chapman; on the right
of it is the Edinburgh-table, and down in front of it is the
Glasgow-table. Down further, in the centre of the hall, and
directly under the immense gasalier, is the Toy-stand,—a large
circular counter, or table, covered with all imaginable toys for
children, of all materials, forms, sizes, and shapes, from the
New Haven fish-wife, of Scotland, with her creel on her back,
going to market, to the splendid wax doll from Bridgewater, in
England; a toy which is the admired of all doll admirers.
That table is, at this moment, surrounded by admiring and en-
chanted children, making the hall ring with their merry and de-
lighted exclamations. It is impossible to sit here and look
down upon that enraptured throng of children, and not feel
that it is good and pleasant to be here. It is worth a voyage
over the Atlantic to see that table and the delighted little ones
who at this moment surround it. To crown the enchantment,
the toy stand is embowered in beautiful high arches of ever-
green, and the gas-lights reflect a glorious light upon the whole
group. On each side of the hall are two rows of tables, or
stands, and several women attending at each-some standing
behind, and some in front of the tables, to accommodate the
purchasers. On the right of the entrance-door to the hall, is
the Provision-table, covered with all sorts of fruits and vege-
table food and ice-creams. Ice-creams in winter; The ther-
mometer is nearly to zero. No accounting for taste. The hall
is comfortably warmed by two stoves. There are thirty-four
different tables, and I could not begin to give an account of the
variety, beauty, and richness of the articles now lying on these
tables, and hanging around and over them, on lines attached
to evergreen bowers and arches, that rise over and around the
various stands. It is certain that this National Bazaar owes
much of its attractions and its value to the Anti-Slavery hearts
and hands in Great Britain and Ireland. This Bazaar has done,
and is doing more to cement these two great nations into one,
and to secure and perpetuate mutual love and peace, than all
the Government Ambassadors and Treaties that ever passed
between them. This affair is a Treaty of Peace between indi-
vidual hearts; and let the individual hearts in the two na-
tions be knit together in brotherly sympathy, each wishing and
labouring for the good of the other, and no governmental or
ganization could ever dash us one against the other in deadly


into a schoolmaster's noddle that a school-room should abso

and the boys so many hours out of it?" Or it is," Perad-
venture the boys might get cold, and their parents will be an-
And the dusty, musty, smoky, rank-smelling school-
Teachers in gene-
room remains so to the end of the chapter.
ral seem to have no idea of the necessity of pure sweet air;
or, if they have, do not make the slightest effort to procure it.
They are great in the knowledge of words; but, too often,
small indeed in that of things. I wonder if it ever yet came
lutely have no smell. Why, the bodies and the garments of
the young should be sweet and pure, and fragrant as the linen
that hangs on the line; and the air which they breathe, both
The human frame
in the school and out of the school, as pure.
necessarily has no evil odour; so far from it, that in all well-
constituted perfectly cleanly individuals, the person is actually
fragrant. I know no author, ancient or modern, except glo-
rious Homer, who adverts, even partially to this fact, and he
but utters the veritable and delightful truth.

In vain have I adjured the schoolmaster-" Sir, I beseech
you to consider, each boy-cach of those boys, breathes not less
than twelve hundred times in an hour. Reflect, I beg of you,
what the consequences must eventually prove, of continually
inhaling and reinhaling a vitiated atmosphere. Only think,
it poisons the blood, deteriorates the frame at large, and paves
But such entreaties are seldom
the way for deadly disease."
successful, because people in general, and teachers of the
young are not always an exception, will not look to remote
If they
consequences; the present is their only concern.
could only pierce the veil of the future-if, they could behold
the fevered and perishing structure, the ravages of hidden de-
cay, the early sepulchre, and refer it to its primary source—a
poisonous, because tainted and ill-renewed atmosphere-they
would take these matters to heart, and no longer condemn
their pupils to a putrid and vitiated air, and life-springs tainted
at their source; else; why is it that boys and girls at school
should so often grow pale and sickly, unless it be owing to this
most unjustifiable circumstance; or, how is it that teachers
themselves are so often victims of dyspepsia and disease? I
have often been tempted to wish there were no doors to school-
rooms and factories; the pent-up vitiated atmosphere would
thus have some chance of renewal. Boys and girls, too, would
be better alternately standing and moving about, than sitting
so habitually. Never, I think, shall I forget a girl of twelve
-barely twelve, whom, not long since, I was requested to
I found her in a hot close
see, in the course of my vocation.
room, tormented with flies, and in the last stage of decline.
Ere my next visit she had expired. "And, ah!" said the be-
reft father, as I gazed at the pallid features of the poor de-
parted sufferer; "she was so fine a child, no one in the school
was her equal at her books; she was always at her lessons."—
"What hours did she go at?" I inquired. Why, first, from
seven to nine; then from ten to three; and then from six to
eight; she was such a learner, there was no keeping her from
her books." In short, I ascertained that this young victim
spent the greater part of the day in school; and what time re-

mained besides her meals and sleep, was occupied with lessons;
no exercise, no recreation; and thus was her young existence
nipped in the bud, all that she might parse so well, and spell!
But it is needless to pursue this topic further; suffice it to say,
schools, colleges, factories, shops, workshops, dwelling-houses,
hospitals, places of worship, are all abominably ill ventilated,
or rather not ventilated at all, except in so far as the air finds
casual admission, and as it were by stealth.


Dr. M'Cormac, of Belfast, has turned the attention of the public to the subject of the Ventilation of Schools. No places could require it more. We have been astonished by the great neglect of this most important particular in the far greater number of schools that we have entered in every part of the kingdom. In too many of them the air has been fœtid and stifling-in fact, not only disagreeable, but deleterious. Dr. M'Cormac says

CONTENTS. First Love-A Battle of Life and Death, a Tale, by BERTHOLD Schools everywhere are ill ventilated. I hardly ever saw a AUERBACH, translated by MARY HOWITT-The Sister of Charity perfectly ventilated school-room, public or private. The mo-Capital Punishment, by FREDERIC ROWTON, No. VIIIment one sets foot in the crowded precincts, that moment the CHILD'S CORNER-Things Present, and Things Unseen, an Innostrils are invaded with a peculiar heavy, sickening odour, troduction to the Study of History, by MARY GILLIES-Visit to commingled with dust, and smoke, and ashes; for, rarely are Miss Edgeworth, by WILLIAM HOWITT-The Scaffold, by GEORGE school-rooms washed, and rarely are they well aired, even HUME-The Rich and the Poor, by ROBERT STORY-Literary during the scholars' absence. We have thus a condition Notice-Italy, Past and Present, by L. MARIOTTI-Weekly of the vital fluid quite repugnant to the health and physical Record. well-being of the young creatures condemned for many hours to inhale the polluting medium. In vain have I reasoned with teachers. Perhaps, after much entreaty, they will open the lower part of a window-for the upper, perhaps, is not made to open-but as for thorough adequate ventilation, they have no idea of it. "How," they will can the room be close, say,


PRINTED for the Proprietor by WILLIAM LOVETT, of 16, South
Row, New Road, in the Parish of St. Pancras, County of
Middlesex, and published by him at 171, (corner of Surrey
Street,) Strand, in the Parish of St. Clement Danes.


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