Where the bee at early dawn, N the same path with Boccaccio, but far distant in respect of talent and genius followed Francesco, or, as he was called after the abbreviating fashion of the time, Franco Sacchetti,* Born of a noble family in Florence, about the year 1335, he was admitted to most of the honours of the republic, and passed through life respected and esteemed by his fellow-citizens. He was not only a Novelist, but a Poet, and was indeed held in higher consideration in the latter capacity than the former. His Novels are in fact mere anecdotes, for the most part highly insipid, and narrated without either the humour or the gracefulness of Boccaccio, but possessing, like those of the Pecorone, considerable interest from their simplicity, and from the light which they throw on the manners of the time. We shall select a few of the most favourable specimens. King Frederick, of Sicily, was a man of a noble and generous mind. There lived in Palermo, in his time, an * In the freedom of republican intercourse, almost every man's name suffered an abbreviation, for purposes of convenience or familiarity. Some of these are extremely singular, and difficult to recognize. This same word Francesco, is occasionally transformed into Cecco, Filippo into Pippo, Jacopo into Lapo, Tommaso into Maso, Giovanni into Nanni, Alessandra is written Sandra, Domenica, Beca, and Lorenza, Nencia. In the same way Madonna is shortened to Monna, and Messere to Ser; which last is no doubt the original of our Sir. apothecary called Master Matthew, who was accustomed to bring the king every year a present of apples and citrons, in the season, which his majesty always received graciously. On these occasions he was very particular in combing and arranging his hair, tying it in a sort of bag-wig, and putting on a clean neckcloth. He continued this annual visit when far advanced in years. On one of these occasions, as the old man was tottering along with his present, in his usual trim, the king's porter, diverted with the oddity of his appearance, began to make sport of him, and to pull the tail of his wig: in which pastime he was soon joined by his companions. One pulled one way, and another the other, and the old man's hair was preHe managed, sently all about his ears. however, to make his way through them, and in this state presented himself before the king." What is the matter now, Matthew,” said his majesty, "how is it that I see you in this trim ?" "'Tis your majesty's pleasure," replied Matthew.§ “How can that be?” asked the king. “Does your majesty know which is the best story in all the Bible?" said Matthew. The king, who was well versed in Scripture, replied, "There are a great many good stories in it,|| but which is the best I really cannot say.” “With your majesty's permission I will tell you,” rejoined Matthew. “By all means," said the king; "let us hear.” Then said Matthew," My lord the king,¶ the best story in all the Bible is that of the Queen of Sheba, who hearing of the wonderful wisdom of Solomon, came to visit him in his dominions, and found it even to exceed her expectations: with such admirable order was every thing conducted." Here the old man stopped. “Well,” said the king, “ what is the drift of this?" Sire," replied Matthew," if the Queen of Sheba thought Solomon the wisest of men for the reasons I have mentioned, she would, on the same account, think your majesty the greatest of fools:** since, at the very gates of your palace an old man like me cannot pass without insult." A certain rich Abbot, who had the care of his dogs, having suffered two of them to get the mange, was fined four florins for his negligence. He begged very hard to be let off,§ on which the duke said to him, "I will remit you the fine, on condition that you answer the four following questions:" 1. How far is it to the sky? 2. How much water is there in the sea? 3. What are they doing in Hell ? 4. What am I worth ?|| The Abbot's heart sunk within him on hearing these propositions, and he saw that he was in worse case than before. However, to get rid of the matter for the present he begged time for consideration, and the duke gave him the whole of the next day; but, desirous of seeing how he would get out of the difficulty, he compelled him to give security for his re-appearance. As the Abbot was returning home, in melancholy mood,** he met with a man who rented a mill under him. The miller, seeing him thus cast down, said, "What is the matter, Sir? what makes you sigh so?"†† well sigh," replied the Abbot," for his Highness " I may * E talor di necessità che si truovino uomini di questa forma. + Visconti. Due cani alani. Two English mastiffs. § Comincio a domandar misericordia. Quello che la mia persona vale. Per cessar furore, e avanzar tempo. ** Soffiando, come un cavallo quando aombra, says the story, blowing like a frightened horse. †† Che avete voi che voi soffiate cosi forte? threatens to play the deuce with me* if I do not answer four questions, which neither Solomon nor Aristotle could solve:" and he told the miller what they were. The latter stood thoughtful a few minutes, and then said: “ Well, if you have a mind, I will get you out of the scrape."† “Would to heaven you could," exclaimed the Abbot; "there is nothing I have that I would not give you.” “I am willing to leave that to you," said the miller," but it will be necessary that you should lend me your tunic and cowl: I must get myself shaved, and make myself as much like an abbot as I can." To this his reverence joyfully consented, and the next morning, the miller, having transformed himself into a priest, set out for the palace. and The duke, surprised that the abbot should be ready so early, ordered him to be admitted; and the miller having made his reverence, placed himself as much in the dark as he could, kept fumbling about his face with his The duke then asked him if he was ready hand, to prevent his being recognised. to answer the queries he had put to him? to which he replied in the affirmative. "Your highness's first question," said he, was, How far is it from hence to the sky. I answer, Thirty-six millions, eight hundred and fifty-four thou sand, seventy-two miles and a half, and twenty-two yards." "You have made a nice calculation," said the duke; "but how do you prove it?" "If you think it incorrect," said the other, “measure it yourself, and if you do not find it right, hang me." 66 "Your second question, How much water is there in the sea? has given me there is always some coming into it, or a good deal of trouble,§ because, as going out of it, it is scarcely possible to be exact; however, according to the nearest estimate I have been able to make, the sea holds twenty-five thousand, nine hundred and eighty-two millions of hogsheads, seven barrels, twelve "How can you posquarts, two pints. sibly tell?" said the duke. "I have taken all the pains I could," replied the other; "but if you have any doubt about the matter, get a sufficient number of barrels, and you will then see." "To your third question, What are they E per darmi la mala ventura. § Questo m'ê stato molto forte a vedere, doing in hell? I reply, They are hanging, drawing, quartering, and flaying, much as your highness is doing here. This I was told by a man who had been there; the same from whom Dante, the Florentine, got his information. He is now dead, but if your highness disputes what I say, send for him." 66 Fourthly, you demanded, How much your highness was worth. I answer, nine and twenty shillings."† When Messire Barnabas heard this, he flew into a furious passion, and said, "A murrain take you, do you hold me in no higher estimation than a pottage. pot." Sire," replied the other, trembling all over, "you know our Lord was sold for thirty pieces of silver, and I thought I must take you at one less than him." The shrewdness of the man's replies, convinced the duke that he was not the abbot; and looking steadfastly at him, he charged him with being an impostor.§ The miller, terribly frightened, fell on his knees, and begged for mercy, stating that he was a servant of the abbot, and had undertaken the scheme at his request, solely with a view to entertain his highness. Messire Barnabas, hearing this, exclaimed, "Since he has himself made you an abbot, and a better one, by God, than ever he was, I confirm the appointment, and invest you with his benefice: as you have taken his place, he shall take yours." This was actually done; and as long as he lived, the miller received the revenue of the abbey, and the abbot was obliged to content himself with that of the mill. And so the abbot turned miller, and the miller abbot. Boniface, with great promptitude repairs it.* A French gentleman, of the name of Gilbert, who was very short and corpulent, was sent, with others, on an embassy to Pope Boniface: when he went to make his harangue before his Holiness, he was told that it was necessary to kneel three times; an operation which the size of his belly rendered by no means an easy one. However he got through the first genuflexion very well; but at the second, a sound issued from behind,† which much amazed the by-standers. The Frenchman, seeing them titter, applied three hearty smacks on the offending part, exclaiming: "The Lord confound you, cannot you hold your tongue, and let me speak?" The Pope, who had heard every thing,s pleased with his dexterity, said," Proceed, Mr. Ambassador; I hope you will not be again interrupted." He accordingly did so, and obtained from his Holiness a most gracious reception; the more so, probably from the double dialect, in which this oration had been delivered.// NOVELLA 71. An Augustine Friar exhorts the Genoese from the pulpit to fight valiantly. I was in Genoa a few years ago, during the war between that State and the Venetians, when the latter had much the advantage; and going one morning to hear mass, at the church of St. Lawrence, I was edified by the following pious exhortation: My brethren, said the preacher, "Iam myself a Genoese, and therefore, I hope you will not take it amiss, if I tell you the truth pretty plainly. You are like asses, for such is the nature of that animal, that let there be ever so many of them together, if a man shall lay on any one with a good stick, away they will all scamper in every direction; and so do you. ** We call the Venetians pigs, and truly not without good reasou, for if you meddle with a drove of those This humourous anecdote has been frefrequently retailed: we give it here as the original. It is scarcely possible to preserve the delicate phraseology of the original; La parte di sotto si face sentire. Laissez parler a moi, che male mechance vous donne Dieu. § Che ogni cosa avea sentito. Per averla sposta con due bocche. **E questo è proprio la natura vostra. animals, animals, they run altogether, and turn round upon you. Never were these comparisons more appropriate than at present. 'Twas but the other day you beat the Venetians; what did they do, but collect their forces, and set upon you again; and they have now twice as many gallies afloat as you have: while you are flying this way and that, and do not know what you are about. Awake! awake! rouse yourselves, regain the freedom of the seas, and carry the war to the enemy's own gates." He concluded with apologizing for his vehemence, saying, that he really could hold no longer:* and I, having had enough, returned home.t It happened, that in the course of the same day, at the Exchange, I was in a party of gentlemen from various quarters, Genoese, Florentines, Pisans, and Lucchese, and talking of the merits of the different countries, a gentleman of Florence, Messire Carlo Strozzi, said, "Really you Genoese are the best soldiers, and the bravest fellows in the world; we Florentines are fit for nothing but shopkeepers." "No wonder," said I, "at that, for the very parsons here are military: when our preachers get into the pulpit, they talk about praying, and fasting, and forgiveness of injuries; and that men should live together in peace and unity; but here 'tis quite the reverse, as you might have heard at St. Laurence's Church this morning.' I then related the substance of the friar's discourse, and the account 1 gave was confirmed by some others who were present: all agreed that my remark was just, and that it was a style of preaching perfectly new.§ These are the doctrines that are now recommended to us, so orthodox are we become! And many a man mounts the pulpit, whom the Lord knows how far he is entitled to stand there, either by his intelligence, or discretion.|| • Io serei crepato s'io non mi fusse sfogato. L'avenzo lasciai udire agli attri. Noi Fiorentini siamo da fare l'arte della lana, e nostre mercanzie. § Parve a tutti una nuova predica. Lest it should be thought that the translator has given too free a version, with the view of adapting this reflection to the pre sent times, we shall give the whole passage, as it stands in the original. E cosi siamo spesse volte ammaestrati, tanto è ampliata la nostra fede; salendo tale in pergamo che Dio il sa quanta sia la loro prudenza, o la loro discrezione. To the Editor of the Monthly Magazine. IF SIR, F that man deserves well of his country who makes two blades of grass to grow where only one grew before; certainly the man who makes two families live comfortably where only one lived so before, must deserve equally well, if not better. At the present time we not only hear of the pressure of the poor-rates, but likewise feel it, especially on the middle ranks of society; but what is the cause of the evil? Some say a redundant population, some the want of habits of industry, others the want of trade; but none of these appear to be satisfactory reasons. The root of the evil seems to be in the extent of the farms, where one man possesses more land than is necessary for the support of two or three families; and, in fact, more than he can well manage. But admitting, that a large farm is equally well managed with a smaller one (which is seldom the case) still there is only one family living comfortably upon it. Our forefathers thought and acted differently from what we do in this respect; but whether they enjoyed less happiness or not, I shall not take upon myself to determine. I will say nothing of one farm containing 1000 or 1500 acres, nor of the expence in erecting the necessary buildings for such a quantity of land, and the capital required to stock it with; as it is evident a man must have sufficient to live upon before he can embark in such an undertaking. A farm of 500 acres, which is worth to rent from thirty shillings to two pounds an acre yearly, only supports one family in affluence, or perhaps in luxury; but if these 500 acres were divided into farms of 100 acres each, five families might live in comfort and independence. Large farms are the very bane of society; for it requires a fortune to stock a farm of 500 acres, so that it must be a person of considerable property, who is able to undertake the management of such farms as these: and it is frequently the case that persons of this description are not brought up in the ways of industry. But a small capital will enable a man of industrious habits to stock a farm of 100 partly execute any kind of work which acres, he will both superintend, and is requisite to be done; and as he well understands his business, he will not require any thing unreasonable from his servants or labourers. There is no man but but may see the advantage of small farms to the country; for in the instance above, here are five respectable yeomen in the one case, with their families happy around them, where in the other, there is only one gentleman farmer, surrounded by a tribe of labourers, whose spirits are broken down, because they know their situation cannot be mended. Perhaps many of these labourers had saved some money in their younger days, in hopes poor-rates with which we have of late Banks of the Humber, of renting a small farm; but as they To the Editor of the Monthly Magazine. found it almost impossible ever to be accommodated, they became careless, and their only resource is the parish. It will be a happy day for this country to see land let in small allotments, to the industrious labourers, who are now overwhelmed with poverty; then may England exalt herself and appear as queen of the nations. Landlords are too frequently unacquainted with the situation, and circumstances of their small tenants. In the neighbourhood where I reside, the trustees or governors of an endowed school have let the garths of several cottages to the farmers, with very small abatement of the rent for the dwelling-houses; the farmers complain of the grievous amount of the poor-rates, and well they may, for the cottager, with all his exertions, finds himself unable to the support of his family; and as his land is taken from him, he has no means left of extricating himself from the bondage of poverty; but his support must still be from the soil, whether he cultivate it for himself, or another cultivates it for him; only with this difference, that by receiving relief from the parish he feels himself degraded, but by his own in dustry he made himself respected. The objection which I have heard most frequently urged against small farms, is the greater number of buildings which would be wanted; but this objection is more specious than real, for the houses attached to large farms are built more like mansions than farm houses; a different style of building at much less cost would answer better for small farms. I am truly sorry when in passing through many villages, I see the dilapidated state of them, on account of small farms being thrown into large ones. The barns and out-buildings are suffered to come to decay, and the houses are occupied by labourers. My opinion decidedly is, that were farms smaller, it would soon put an end (especially in agricultural districts) to the enormous SIR, publications, announced to be E see daily issuing from the press, translated from the French, &c. &c. in which errors and blunders crowd upon the reader, for which a school-boy, did they appear in his Latin exercises, would be moved from his form. Now, in this case, as in many others, the common judgment relative to the difficulty, and the consequent merits of translations appears to me to be extremely erroneous. The Greek and Latin languages have long been fixed and immutable; it is, therefore, possible for a student, who will avail himself of the multitude of auxiliaries already provided for him, to arrive at a competent knowledge of the original writers in those tongues. In the study of living spoken languages, he has not the same assistance; for these being in a constant course of change and modification, his grammars and his dictionaries will frequently, I do not say absolutely, mislead him, but leave him very imperfectly informed respecting the meaning of his original author. Living languages, to say the truth, can never be critically ac.. quired, but by living in the intimate society (not merely in the country as is idly imagined) of the people by whom they are correctly spoken. To point out some of the most striking offences against accuracy of translation, which occur in even masterly publications, would be not less ungracious than tedious; I purpose, therefore, to confine my remarks to the mode of converting into English from French, Spanish, &c. and vice versa, the customary titles attributed to persons in different ranks of society. The titles adopted in the southern states of Europe, as well as in the British empire, have been borrowed from the Latin and the German languages. The terms dux, comes, vicecomes of the Romans, have produced the duke, count, and viscount of modern times. From the markgrave of Germany, the other parts |