“This legend,” remarks Flaxius, “may give a valuable hint to collectors. Many people are aware that there are in existence great numbers of sketchings and etchings attributed to Michel Angelo, Dürer, Raphael, Marc Antonio, and many more, which were certainly executed long since those brothers of the paint or pencil passed away. May it not be that the departed still carry on their ancient callings by the aid of new and marvellous processes to us as yet unknown, or by what may be called ‘pneumato-gravure’? Who knows?—’tis a great idea, my masters;—let us pass on or _legit_ unto another legend! “‘Well I ween it may be true That afar in fairyland Great artists still pursue That which in life they knew, And practise still, with ever bettering hand, Sculpture and painting, all that charm can bring, While by them all departed poets sing.’” THE APPARITION OF DANTE “Musa profonda dei Toscani, il Dante, Il nobil cittadin, nostro Alighieri, Alla filosofia ricco e brillante Purgò il linguaggio e corredò i pensieri; E nell’ opera sua fatto gigante A Campaldino nei primi guerrieri; Lui il Purgatorio, Paradiso e Inferno Fenomeno terren, poeta eterno!” —_Le Statue disotto gli Ufizi in Fireneze_. _Ottave improvisate da Giuseppe Moroni detto Il Nicchieri_ (_Iliterato_). Florence, 1892. It has been boldly asserted by writers who should know better, that there are no ghosts in Italy, possibly because the two only words in the language for such beings are the equivocal ones of _spirito_ or spirit, and _spettro_ or spectre—or _specter_, as the Websterians write it—which is of itself appalling as a terrific spell. But the truth is that there is no kind of _spuk_, goblin, elf, fairy, gnome, or ouphe known to all the North of Europe which was not at home in Italy since old Etruscan days, and ghosts, though they do not make themselves common, are by no means as rare as eclipses. For, as may be read in my “Etruscan Roman Legends,” people who will look through a stone with a hole in it can behold no end of _revenants_, or returners, in any churchyard, and on fine nights the seer can see them swarming in the streets of Florence. Giotto is in the campanile as a gentle ghost with the fairy lamb, and Dante, ever benevolent, is all about town, as appears from the following, which was unexpectedly bestowed on me: LO SPIRITO DI DANTE ALIGHIERI. “When any one is passionately fond of poetry, he should sit by night on the _panchina_ {63} in the piazza or square of Santa Croce or in other places (_i.e._, those haunted by Dante), and having read his poetry, pronounce the following: “‘Dante, che eri La gran poeta, Siei morto, ma vero, Il tuo spirito E sempre rimasto, Sempre per nostro Nostro aiuto.