existence of any class of literature but fiction, poetry, and the drama. They seem to regard literature and belles lettres as convertible terms, and take no notice of the wider and more important domains of history, biography, philosophy, moral and economic science, which may be and often have been in the most flourishing condition while belles lettres languish. It is, indeed, much to be wished that more of the literary talent of Italy were directed to solid and permanent work, and less to fiction, which must be ephemeral in proportion to the very fidelity with which it fulfils its ordinary task of depicting the manners of the day. Work like Comparetti's Virgilio nel Medio Evo, for example, confers higher distinction on the national literature than any number of novels, unless when creations of genius of a high order.
Such genius, when exercised in fiction or in poetry, dees not depend for its manifestation upon the state of the book market; the really gifted author obeys an impulse from within. "Genius does what it must, and talent does what it can." If modern Italians have it in them to produce great books, they will not be prevented by such of the obstacles stated by Signor Ojetti's confabulators as may be fairly resolved into one, the insufficient remuneration of literary work. It is just to acknowledge, however, the existence of impediments of another kind. From the earliest period of letters Italy has suffered from the variance of the written and the spoken language. The refinements of cultivated circles at Rome were not accepted in the provinces: there was a Latin of books and a Latin of ordinary life. In process of time the former became the exclusive speech of the learned, while the language of the vulgar gave birth to a number of dialects, out of
