In an article on Dantescan literature, by M. Charles Labitte, in the 31st vol. of the second series of the _Révue des Deux Mondes_, he says, that "it has been maintained that Dante took directly from the old romance of 'Guerrino il Meschino' the subject and the entire plan of his work. The date and the origin of the Guerrino, whether French or Provençal, are uncertain.... Hell is represented in it with the concentric form attributed to it by Dante, and Satan in both cases occupies the lowest part of the abyss. But it would be easy to show, despite the weighty authority of Pelli and of Fontanini, that the romance of Guerrino, so popular in the fifteenth century, is at least in its present form posterior to the Divine Comedy." The fact is, however, that the idea of describing the adventures and sights encountered by a denizen of this world, or his travels through the world beyond the tomb, was exceedingly common in the century preceding Dante; and we find it reproduced in many different forms. And in all probability the story of Guerrino was popular long before it was written in the earliest shape in which we now have it. The contents are of the ordinary staple of the romances of chivalry, unreadable enough for the most part. Crescimbeni declares[16] that the story is comparable to the Odyssey; while the more critical Mazzuchelli finds it "full of improbabilities, utterly contrary to history, chronology, and geography."[17] Tullia's own view of her work, and her account of her motives in writing it, as set forth in her preface, are more to our present purpose. She begins by observing, that whereas all other pleasures either require the ministration of others, whose services we may not always be able to command, or are of such a nature as to be of short duration, like eating and drinking, or again bring with them dangers, expense, anxiety, and often mischief,—such as travelling, gambling, love–making, and such–like; reading alone is open to none of these inconveniences. Accordingly everybody above the lowest classes, says Tullia, reads now–a–days; and for women it is a resource especially useful and necessary, as Giovanni Boccaccio well knew, who informed us that he wrote almost entirely for the ladies. And had he only done one thing which he has left undone, and left undone one which he has done, his book would have been all that could have been desired. The first is to have put his tales into verse, which it cannot be doubted, says our poetess, is much more pleasant reading than prose. The other matter, which should have been avoided, is the quantity of "improper, indecent, and truly abominable things which are found from one end to the other of that book, in which no respect is paid to the honour of married women, nor of widows, nor of nuns, nor of secular damsels, nor of godmothers or godfathers, nor of friends, nor of priests, nor of friars, and, lastly, not even of bishops. So that it is truly a thing