Contemporary critics dealt with Tasso more cruelly than ever any dared to deal with Dante; yet Tasso has outlived his critics. And the sympathy and admiration bestowed on him by his English contemporaries, and notably by Edmund Spencer, was well bestowed, and forms a link in that long chain of intellectual sympathy between England and Italy which we trust to see strengthened year by year. Tasso’s great poem may therefore not inappropriately supply an epilogue to those studies of his greater predecessor which are associated in different ways with the horrors and splendours of the great World War. In a recent article in the _Anglo-Italian Review_,[376] an organ whose special aim has been to foster and develop that intellectual sympathy between England and Italy of which we have spoken above, Sir Sidney Lee draws our attention to the _Gerusalemme Liberata_. “There is some special appropriateness,” he says, “at the moment in recalling attention to Tasso’s association with English poetry—with that manifestation of English genius whence Great Britain derives no inconspicuous part of her renown. For Tasso made his chief bid for immortality as the poetic chronicler of the First Crusade whereby the City of Jerusalem was first wrested from the Moslem sway and restored to Christian rule. The army which achieved the hardly won victory was drawn from the chivalry of all Western Europe; but the chief command was in French hands, and Godfrey of Bouillon, a nobleman of France, is the hero of Tasso’s epic. The Italian poet credits the French generalissimo with every moral and military virtue. His courage goes hand in hand with a dignified caution. He is pious, humane, far-seeing in counsel, resolute in action, modest in bearing. The stirring military adventures which Tasso narrates with abundance of romantic embellishment and magical episode end on a strikingly subdued note. The last stanza of the long poem shows Godfrey with his aides-de-camp, just after the last strenuous resistance of the enemy had been overcome, reverently walking in the light of the setting sun through the captured city. Without pausing to change their war-stained habiliments, Godfrey and his companions enter the Holy Sepulchre, and there, hanging up their arms, they offer on their knees humble prayer.” General Allenby’s ever-memorable entry through the Golden Gate, on foot, into a Jerusalem freed from an even more blighting and desolating tyranny than that of the eleventh century, may well form a starting-point for a comparison of the great movement of the First Crusade with a still greater movement of to-day.