One of the chief merits of Lorenzo is derived from the revival of his native language. A century had elapsed since the golden age of Petrarch and Boccaccio, but the Italian language, instead of redeeming the promise of its birth, had remained mute and inglorious. The neglect which so speedily darkened the native literature, may be attributed to these very men, and especially to Petrarch, who cast disgrace over what he called the vulgar tongue, and taught that Latin was the only worthy medium by which learned men should communicate their ideas--and such Latin! However, the spirit of improvement, which is the most valuable attribute of human nature, led the students who succeeded him to cultivate and understand the implement he placed in their hands. They applied themselves to a critical examination of Latin; and after all, it is perhaps, to the bald, unformed Latinity of Petrarch, that we owe the knowledge which the scholar of the present day possesses of the construction and delicacies of that language. If he had not taught the world, that the object chiefly worthy of their ambition was to imitate the works of Virgil and Cicero, no one had spent the labour necessary to the entire understanding of the language of the Romans. Yet, while this advantage was derived from his mistake, imagination and genius were silenced; little prose and no poetry, either in Latin or the vulgar tongue, appeared in Italy. The writers educated by Cosmo, Politian, and Ficino, still adhered to the hereditary error, and wrote in Latin. Lorenzo first broke through these rules, and expressed in his native language the fragile and delicate ideas inspired by a poetic imagination. He ranks high as a poet: he does not possess the sublimity and grace of Dante, nor the elegance, tenderness, and incomparable sweetness of Petrarch; but his merits are original and conspicuous: simplicity and vivacity adorn his verses. His love poems are full of fire, and come from the heart; his descriptions are delightful, from their truth, elegance, and flow of fancy throughout; his diction is that of a genuine poet. It is singular, that although Lorenzo possessed the germ of real poetry in his mind, he began to work himself up to writing verses in a manner that appears cold to our northern imaginations: he resolved to love, and resolved to write verses on her he loved; yet, being a poet, and a man whose heart easily opened itself to the warmer affections, no doubt a great deal of real feeling accompanied his aspirations. He himself gives the account of all these circumstances in a commentary written on his first sonnets.