of politely educated pedants, encouraged in studies for which he felt a natural aptitude, gratified by the comradeship of the young prince whose temperament corresponded to his own in gravity, he conceived that radiant and romantic conception of Courts, as the only fit places of abode for men of noble birth and eminent abilities, which no disillusionment in after life was able to obscure.  We cannot blame him for this error, though error it indubitably was.  It was one which he shared with all men of his station at that period, which the poverty of his estate, the habits of his father, and his own ignorance of home-life almost forced upon his poet’s temperament.

At Urbino Tasso read mathematics under a real master, Federigo Comandino, and carried on his literary studies with enthusiasm.  It was probably at this time that he acquired the familiar knowledge of Virgil which so powerfully influenced his style, and that he began to form his theory of epic as distinguished from romantic poetry.  After a residence of two years he removed to Venice, where his father was engaged in polishing the Amadigi for publication.  Here a new scene of interest opened out for him; and here he first enjoyed the sweets of literary fame.  Bernardo had been chosen secretary by an Academy, in which men like Veniero, Molino, Gradenigo, Mocenigo, and Manuzio, the most learned and the noblest Venetians, met together for discussion.  The slim lad of fifteen was admitted to their sessions, and surprised these elders by his eloquence and erudition.  It is noticeable that at this time he carefully studied and annotated Dante’s Divine Comedy, a poem almost neglected by Italians in the Cinque Cento.  It seemed good to his father now that he should prosecute his studies in earnest, with the view of choosing a more lucrative profession than that of letters or Court-service.  Bernardo, while finishing the Amadigi, which he dedicated to Philip II., sent his son in 1560 to Padua.  He was to become a lawyer under the guidance of Guido Panciroli.  But Tasso, like Ovid, like Petrarch, like a hundred other poets, felt no inclination for juristic learning.  He freely and frankly abandoned himself to the metaphysical conclusions which were being then tried between Piccolomini and Pendasio, the one an Aristotelian dualist, the other a materialist for whom the soul was not immortal.  Without force of mind enough to penetrate the deepest problems of philosophy, Tasso was quick to apprehend their bearings.  The Paduan school of scepticism, the logomachy in vogue there, unsettled his religious opinions.  He began by criticising the doubts of others in his light of Jesuit-instilled belief; next he found a satisfaction for self-esteem in doubting too; finally he called the mysteries of the Creed in question, and debated the articles of creation, incarnation, and immortality.  Yet he had not the mental vigor either to cut this Gordian knot, or to untie it by sound thinking.  His erudition