THE Conditions which appear necessarily to belong to a true, exalted, and worthy love, are two:-First, To LOVE BUT ONE-Second, To LOVE THIS ONE ALWAYS. Not many lovers have hearts so generous as to be capable of fulfilling these two conditions; and exceedingly few women display sufficient attractives to withhold men from the violation of them; yet, without these there is no true love. For in addition to natural charms, there must be found in the person beloved, talent, accomplishments, propriety of behaviour, elegant manners, a graceful presence, suavity of speech, good sense, love, constancy, and fidelity.

BEAUTY and the eyes first give birth to love; but other endowments are necessary for its preservation. Because, should sickness, or other accidents discolour the cheek, or early beauty fade away in age, the gifts of mind remain and are not less dear to the heart, than beauty to the eye, and pleasure to the senses. The senses, it is true, open the door to love, but afterwards the soul must cherish it like a hallowed fire, must refine and purify it by degrees, and feed on it. And yet these estimable qualities may not be enough, unless the lover possess sensibility of heart to discern them, and elevation and generosity of soul to appreciate them. But when the above-mentioned conditions meet in two enamoured persons-she becomes more beautiful of soul, more wise, more happy in her affections—and he, to please her ever more and more, must, in all his actions, endeavour to excel in virtue, and beautify his soul, that he may emulate the moral and corporeal graces of his mistress.

THE SAME THEORY

ILLUSTRATED BY SHAKSPEARE.

SONNET CXVI.

LET me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove;

O no! it is an ever-fixed mark

That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

It is the star to every wandering bark,

Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come;

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom:

If this be error, and upon me prov'd,

I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

GUIDO CAVALCANTI.

CHI è questa che vien che ogni uom la mira!
Che fa tremar di caritate l'a're?

E mena seco Amor, sì che parlare

Null'uom ne puote; ma ciascun sospira?

Ahi Dio! che sembra quando gli occhi gira!
Dicalo Amor, ch'io nol saprei contare:
Cotanto d'umiltà donna mi pare,

Che ciascun' altra inver di lei chiam' ira.

Non si porria contar la sua piacenza;
Che a lei s' inchina ogni gentil virtute,
E la Beltate per sua Dea la mostra.

Non è si alta già la mente nostra,
E non s'è posta in noi tanta salute
Che propriamente n'abbiam conoscenza.

LITERAL TRANSLATION.

WHO is this-that all men gaze on her as she approaches?-who makes the very air tremble with soft affection?—who comes, with Love by her side-and in whose presence none can speak, but only sigh? Heaven! what a sight is displayed when she moves her eyes! Let Love himself describe it, for I am quite unable. She is alone the lady of gentleness-compared with whom, all others seem rude and fierce. Her sweet and graceful action none can relate. To her every lofty virtue bows the head; and beauty points to her as her own goddess. The mind of man is not created so high, nor is divine grace so implanted within us, that we are capable of attaining the true knowledge of all her perfections.

DANTE ALIGHIERI.

NEGLI Occhi porta la mia Donna Amore,
Perchè si fa gentil ciò ch'ella mira:
Ov'ella passa ogni uom ver lei si gira:
E cui salute fa tremar lo core,

Sì che bassando il viso tutto smuore,
Ed ogni suo difetto allor sospira:
Fugge dinanzi a lei superbia ed ira;
Ajutatemi, donne, a farle onore.

Ogni dolcezza, ogni pensiero umile
Nasce nel core a chi parlar la sente.

Ond' è beato chi prima la vide:

Quel ch'ella par quando un poco sorride
Non si può dire nè tenere a mente;

Sì è nuovo miracolo e gentile!

IN

LITERAL TRANSLATION.

In the eyes of my mistress, Love is seated, for they ennoble every thing she looks upon. Where she passes, men turn and gaze; and whomsoever she salutes, his heart trembles; the colour forsakes his downcast face, and he sighs for all his unworthiness. Pride and anger fly before her. Assist me, ladies, to do her honour! All gentleness, all thoughts of love and kindness, spring in the hearts of those who hear her speak, so that it is very blessedness first to behold her. But when she faintly smiles, it passes both utterance and conception; so wondrous is the miracle, and so gracious!

FRANCESCO PETRARCA.

IN qual parte del Cielo, in quale Idea
Era l'esempio onde Natura tolse

Quel bel viso leggiadro in ch'ella volse
Mostrar quaggiù quanto lassù potea?

Qual Ninfa in fonti, in selve mai qual Dea
Chiome d'oro sì fine all' aura sciolse?

Quando un cor tante in sè virtuti accolse?
Benchè la somma è di mia morte rea!

Per divina bellezza indarno mira,
Chi gli occhi di costei giammai non vide
Come soavemente ella gli gira;

Non sa come Amor sana e come ancide,
Chi non sa come dolce ella sospira

E come dolce parla e dolce ride.

LITERAL TRANSLATION.

IN what region of heaven, in what world of idea, was the model whence Nature drew that fair and beautiful face, meaning to display here below the utmost extent of her powers above? What nymph of fountains, what goddess of the woods, ever let float upon the breeze tresses of such pure gold? When have so many virtues met in a single breast?—even though the chief of all her perfections is guilty of my death! He looks in vain for divine beauty, who never sees her eyes, whenever she turns them sweetly round. He knows not how love wounds, and heals, who knows not how she sweetly sighs, and sweetly speaks, and sweetly smiles.