The novel is at present as vigorously cultivated in Italy as in any civilised nation, and the talent it attracts cannot be altogether devoid of results. No talent, however, succeeds in permanently naturalising forms of literature uncongenial to the national mind, and it remains to be seen whether this is or is not the case with the novel in Italy. The novelette arose spontaneously, and was maintained without difficulty; but with every encouragement from the example of other nations, Italy failed to acclimatise either romantic fiction or the novel of manners, until far entered into the nineteenth century. The inference that lengthy story-telling must be alien to the genius of the people is confirmed by the general inferiority of modern Italian novelists. One or two, such as Matilda Serao, Salvatore Farini, and Giulio Barrili, have acquired a reputation beyond the limits of their own country. One or two others, such as Antonio Fogazzaro, the leader of a reaction towards a spiritualistic conception of things; Carlo Placci, the very promising author of _Un Furto_; and Luciano Zuccoli, author of _Roberta_, have shown the ability to impress themselves upon the national literature. Only two, however, seem to stand forth very decidedly as masters of fiction. One of them is Gabriele d’Annunzio, already treated as a poet. D’Annunzio’s novels have made more noise than his poems, being from one point of view much more, from another much less, suited for general perusal. The scandal which has grown up about them has diverted attention from their real merits of fine style and conscientious workmanship. As an artist, D’Annunzio is almost as admirable in prose as in verse; and if with his descriptive he combined the creative gift, all his immoralities would not debar him from permanent renown. Unfortunately, he is like most French and Italian novelists, monotonously restricted to the portrayal of a single passion, and his splendid scenery is the background for trivial characters. He reminds us of the demon in Victor Hugo’s poem, who consumes the strength of lions and the wisdom of elephants in fashioning a locust. This is the besetting sin of the novelists of France and Italy: with a few brilliant exceptions on both sides, the English novel lives by character, the French by situation. D’Annunzio’s novels are nevertheless important literary events, and cannot be omitted from any survey of modern European literature. They have already gained him renown and circulation in France and the United States. The most celebrated are _Il Piacere_, _Il Trionfo della Morte_, _La Vergine delle Rocce_, the last of which is exempt from most of the objections justly urged against the others.