The Jerusalem Delivered is the history of a Crusade, related with poetic license.  The Infidels are assisted by unlawful arts; and the libertinism that brought scandal on the Christians, is converted into youthful susceptibility, led away by enchantment.  The author proposed to combine the ancient epic poets with Ariosto, or a simple plot, and uniformly dignified style, with romantic varieties of adventure, and the luxuriance of fairy-land.  He did what he proposed to do, but with a judgment inferior to Virgil’s; nay, in point of the interdependence of the adventures, to Ariosto, and with far less general vigour.  The mixture of affectation with his dignity is so frequent, that, whether Boileau’s famous line about Tasso’s tinsel and Virgil’s gold did or did not mean to imply that the Jerusalem was nothing but tinsel, and the AEneid all gold, it is certain that the tinsel is so interwoven with the gold, as to render it more of a rule than an exception, and put a provoking distance between Tasso’s epic pretensions and those of the greatest masters of the art.  People who take for granted the conceits because of the “wildness” of Ariosto, and the good taste because of the “regularity” of Tasso, just assume the reverse of the fact.  It is a rare thing to find a conceit in Ariosto; and, where it does exist, it is most likely defensible on some Shakspearian ground of subtle propriety.  Open Tasso in almost any part, particularly the love-scenes, and it is marvellous if, before long, you do not see the conceits vexatiously interfering with the beauties.

  “Oh maraviglia!  Amor, the appena e nato,
  Gia grande vola, e gia trionfa armato.”  Canto i.  St. 47.

  Oh, miracle!  Love is scarce born, when, lo,
  He flies full wing’d, and lords it with his bow!

  “Se ’l miri fulminar ne l’arme avvolto,
  Marte lo stimi; Amor, se scopre il volto.”  St. 58.

  Mars you would think him, when his thund’ring race
  In arms he ran; Love, when he shew’d his face.

Which is as little true to reason as to taste; for no god of war could look like a god of love.  The habit of mind would render it impossible.  But the poet found the prettiness of the Greek Anthology irresistible.

Olindo, tied to the stake amidst the flames of martyrdom, can say to his mistress

  “Altre fiamme, altri nodi amor promise.”  Canto ii. st. 34.

  Other flames, other bonds than these, love promised.

The sentiment is natural, but the double use of the “flames” on such an occasion, miserable.

In the third canto the fair Amazon Clorinda challenges her love to single combat.

  “E di due morti in un punto lo sfida.”  St. 23.

  “And so at once she threats to kill him twice.” Fairfax.

That is to say, with her valour and beauty.

Another twofold employment of flame, with an exclamation to secure our astonishment, makes its appearance in the fourth canto