The Eighteenth Century was remarkable for the paucity of eminent Prose Writers; the Nineteenth Century, on the contrary, can show a brilliant array of philosophers, historians, and novelists; and it would probably be more extensive had not the rapid development of journalistic enterprise drawn many able men to the daily Press, who would in former ages have devoted themselves to the writing of books. Their articles in newspapers ind magazines perished after the day of appearance, with the exception of those rare cases where a writer, or his friends, made a collection to be published in book form. Thus, many keen and powerful minds laboured for the enlightenment of their generation, but no record remains of their productions. The unbounded popularity of fiction caused greater attention to be bestowed on that branch of Literature, and memorable works were given to the world. For nearly seventy years the chief inspirer was patriotism, as was only natural in the Century that witnessed the liberation of the Peninsula from foreign oppression. The Literature of England and Germany began to be studied, and the romantic movement introduced an entirely new style of subject and treatment. The old conventions of mythological allusions are at last consigned to merited oblivion, and we find poets expressing themselves in a direct and natural manner. The former timidity of philosophical and religious speculation is exchanged for boundless liberty, often coupled with intense hatred of Christianity. Strong originality marks the writers of the Nineteenth Century, but that originality is often purchased at the price of harmonious development and serenity of mind. They have reason to envy the intellectual complacency of Ariosto and Metastasio. This discord of the mind is more marked in Leopardi than in any other writer, although he was almost the first to display it. In truth, the Nineteenth Century was for Italy a period of transition. The old forms of thought, as well as the old forms of government, were gradually overcome and destroyed, and perhaps it would be premature to say what definite form they are likely to assume. One thing is certain; the old methods can never be revived, and the efforts of pedants to infuse new life into their effete decrepitude can only result in ignominious failure. Self-reliance and originality must be the watch-words of the future, and it is gratifying to observe that the best and most promising of the younger generation of writers are, consciously or unconsciously, opening out new forms of art and fresh vistas of ideas. That some mistakes have been made, cannot be denied. Extreme realism has claimed its victims in Italy as elsewhere. From excessive desire to be exact, some writers have ceased to be natural. In their endeavour to avoid superstition, other writers have advocated gross and vulgar materialism. Some have shewn repulsive want of decency; others, utter disregard for beauty and purity of style.