"All, in his eyes, are clothed in the costume of Florence. The ancient dead whom he invokes, seem to be born again as completely Tuscan as himself. It was not that his mind was limited—it was the energy of his soul, that embraced the whole universe within the circle of his thoughts.
"A mystical chain of circles and of spheres conducts him from hell to purgatory, from purgatory to paradise. Faithful historian of his vision, he pours a flood of light upon the most obscure regions, and the world which he creates in his triple poem is as complete, as animated and as brilliant as a planet newly-discovered in the firmament.
"At his voice the whole earth assumes a poetical form, its objects, ideas, laws and phenomena, seem a new Olympus of new deities; but this mythology of the imagination is annihilated, like paganism, at the aspect of paradise, of that ocean of light, sparkling with rays and with stars, with virtues and with love.
"The magic words of our great poet are the prism of the universe; all its wonders are there reflected, divided, and recomposed; sounds imitate colours, and colours are blended in harmony; rhyme, sonorous or bizarre, rapid or prolonged, is inspired by this poetical divination; supreme beauty of art! triumph of genius! which discovers in nature every secret in affinity with the heart of man.
"Dante hoped from his poem the termination of his exile; he reckoned on Fame as his mediator; but he died too soon to receive the palm of his country. Often is the fleeting life of man worn out in adversity! and if glory triumph, if at length he land upon a happier shore, he no sooner enters the port than the grave yawns before him, and destiny, in a thousand shapes, often announces the end of life by the return of happiness.
"Thus unfortunate Tasso, whom your homage, Romans, was to console for all the injustice he had suffered; Tasso, the handsome, the gentle, the heroic, dreaming of exploits, feeling the love which he sang, approached these walls as his heroes did those of Jerusalem—with respect and gratitude. But on the eve of the day chosen for his coronation, Death claimed him for its terrible festival: Heaven is jealous of earth, and recalls her favourites from the treacherous shores of Time!
"In an age more proud and more free than that of Tasso, Petrarch was, like Dante, the valorous poet of Italian independence. In other climes he is only known by his amours,—here, more severe recollections encircle his name with never-fading honour; for it is known that he was inspired by his country more than by Laura herself.
"He re-animated antiquity by his vigils; and, far from his imagination raising any obstacle to the most profound studies, its creative power, in submitting the future to his will, revealed to him the secrets of past ages. He discovered how greatly knowledge assists invention; and his genius was so much the more original, since, like the eternal forces, he could be present at all periods of time.
"Ariosto derived inspiration from our serene atmosphere, and our delicious climate. He is the rainbow which appeared after our long wars; brilliant and many-hued, like that herald of fine weather, he seems to sport familiarly with life; his light and gentle gaiety is the smile of nature and not the irony of man.
"Michael Angelo, Raphael, Pergolese, Galileo, and you, intrepid travellers, greedy of new countries, though nature could offer nothing finer than your own, join your glory also to that of the poets. Artists, scholars, philosophers! you are, like them, the children of that sun which by turns developes the imagination, animates thought, excites courage, lulls us into a happy slumber, and seems to promise everything, or cause it to be forgotten.