himself by thinking, like Abraham the Jew in the 'Decameron,'
that no better proof can be given of the truth of the religion professed
by Rome than the fact of its enduring in such hands.

This reasoning, however, is not quite conclusive; for if Boccaccio had
had patience to wait another forty years, he would have learnt, first
from John Huss, and then from Luther and his followers, that although in
certain hands things may last a while, it is only till they are worn
out. What Boccaccio and the Jew would say now if they came back, I do
not venture to surmise,

MY FIRST VENTURE IN ROMANCE

From 'My Recollections'

While striving to acquire a good artistic position in my new residence,
I had still continued to work at my 'Fieramosca,' which was now almost
completed. Letters were at that time represented at Milan by Manzoni,
Grossi, Torti, Pompeo Litta, etc. The memories of the period of Monti,
Parini, Foscolo, Porta, Pellico, Verri, Beccaria, were still fresh; and
however much the living literary and scientific men might be inclined to
lead a secluded life, intrenched in their own houses, with the shyness
of people who disliked much intercourse with the world, yet by a little
tact those who wished for their company could overcome their reserve. As
Manzoni's son-in-law, I found myself naturally brought into contact with
them. I knew them all; but Grossi and I became particularly intimate,
and our close and uninterrupted friendship lasted until the day of his
but too premature death. I longed to show my work to him, and especially
to Manzoni, and ask their advice; but fear this time, not artistic but
literary, had again caught hold of me. Still, a resolve was necessary,
and was taken at last. I disclosed my secret, imploring forbearance and
advice, but no _indulgence_. I wanted the truth, the whole truth, and
nothing but the truth. I preferred the blame of a couple of trusted
friends to that of the public. Both seemed to have expected something a
great deal worse than what they heard, to judge by their startled but
also approving countenances, when my novel was read to them. Manzoni
remarked with a smile, "We literary men have a strange profession
indeed--any one can take it up in a day. Here is Massimo: the whim of
writing a novel seizes him, and upon my word he does not do badly,
after all!"

This high approbation inspired me with leonine courage, and I set to
work again in earnest, so that in 1833 the work was rea