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this part of the subject without advising every person who can muster
sufficient Italian to read the simile of the sheep； in the third canto of the
Purgatorio。 I think it the most perfect passage of the kind in the world；
the most imaginative； the most picturesque； and the most sweetly
expressed。
No person can have attended to the Divine Comedy without observing
how little impression the forms of the external world appear to have made
on the mind of Dante。 His temper and his situation had led him to fix his
observation almost exclusively on human nature。 The exquisite opening
of the eighth* canto of the Purgatorio affords a strong instance of this。 （I
cannot help observing that Gray's imitation of that noble line
〃Che paia 'lgiorna pianger che si muore；〃
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is one of the most striking instances of injudicious plagiarism with
which I am acquainted。 Dante did not put this strong personification at
the beginning of his description。 The imagination of the reader is so well
prepared for it by the previous lines； that it appears perfectly natural and
pathetic。 Placed as Gray has placed it； neither preceded nor followed by
anything that harmonises with it； it becomes a frigid conceit。 Woe to the
unskilful rider who ventures on the horses of Achilles！）
He leaves to others the earth； the ocean； and the sky。 His business is
with man。 To other writers； evening may be the season of dews and stars
and radiant clouds。 To Dante it is the hour of fond recollection and
passionate devotion；the hour which melts the heart of the mariner and
kindles the love of the pilgrim；the hour when the toll of the bell seems to
mourn for another day which is gone and will return no more。
The feeling of the present age has taken a direction diametrically
opposite。 The magnificence of the physical world； and its influence upon
the human mind； have been the favourite themes of our most eminent
poets。 The herd of bluestocking ladies and sonneteering gentlemen seem
to consider a strong sensibility to the 〃splendour of the grass； the glory of
the flower；〃 as an ingredient absolutely indispensable in the formation of a
poetical mind。 They treat with contempt all writers who are
unfortunately
nec ponere lucum Artifices； nec rus saturum laudare。
The orthodox poetical creed is more Catholic。 The noblest earthly
object of the contemplation of man is man himself。 The universe； and all
its fair and glorious forms； are indeed included in the wide empire of the
imagination； but she has placed her home and her sanctuary amidst the
inexhaustible varieties and the impenetrable mysteries of the mind。
In tutte parti impera； e quivi regge； Quivi e la sua cittade； e l'alto
seggio。 （Inferno； canto i。）
Othello is perhaps the greatest work in the world。 From what does it
derive its power？ From the clouds？ From the ocean？ From the
mountains？ Or from love strong as death； and jealousy cruel as the grave？
What is it that we go forth to see in Hamlet？ Is it a reed shaken with the
wind？ A small celandine？ A bed of daffodils？ Or is it to contemplate a
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mighty and wayward mind laid bare before us to the inmost recesses？ It
may perhaps be doubted whether the lakes and the hills are better fitted for
the education of a poet than the dusky streets of a huge capital。 Indeed
who is not tired to death with pure description of scenery？ Is it not the
fact； that external objects never strongly excite our feelings but when they
are contemplated in reference to man； as illustrating his destiny； or as
influencing his character？ The most beautiful object in the world； it will
be allowed； is a beautiful woman。 But who that can analyse his feelings
is not sensible that she owes her fascination less to grace of outline and
delicacy of colour； than to a thousand associations which； often
unperceived by ourselves； connect those qualities with the source of our
existence； with the nourishment of our infancy； with the passions of our
youth； with the hopes of our agewith elegance； with vivacity； with
tenderness； with the strongest of natural instincts； with the dearest of
social ties？
To those who think thus； the insensibility of the Florentine poet to the
beauties of nature will not appear an unpardonable deficiency。 On
mankind no writer； with the exception of Shakspeare； has looked with a
more penetrating eye。 I have said that his poetical character had derived
a tinge from his peculiar temper。 It is on the sterner and darker passions
that he delights to dwell。 All love excepting the half…mystic passion
which he still felt for his buried Beatrice； had palled on the fierce and
restless exile。 The sad story of Rimini is almost a single exception。 I
know not whether it has been remarked； that； in one point； misanthropy
seems to have affected his mind； as it did that of Swift。 Nauseous and
revolting images seem to have had a fascination for his mind； and he
repeatedly places before his readers； with all the energy of his
incomparable style； the most loathsome objects of the sewer and the
dissecting…room。
There is another peculiarity in the poem of Dante； which； I think；
deserves notice。 Ancient mythology has hardly ever been successfully
interwoven with modern poetry。 One class of writers have introduced the
fabulous deities merely as allegorical representatives of love； wine； or
wisdom。 This necessarily renders their works tame and cold。 We may
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sometimes admire their ingenuity； but with what interest can we read of
bein