As they with difficulty arrive at comprehending poetic creations, they believe that they were produced by dint of hard labour and deep study. The truth is the opposite of this. To the imaginative, fanciful imagery and thoughts, whose expression seems steeped in the hues of dawn, are natural and unforced: when the mind of such is calm, their conceptions resemble those of other men; but when excited by passion, when love, or patriotism, or the influence of nature, kindles the soul, it becomes natural, nay, imperative to them to embody their thoughts, and to give "a local habitation and a name" to the emotions that possess them. The remarks of critics on the overflowings of poetic minds remind one of the traveller who expressed such wonder when, on landing at Calais, he heard little children talk French. Petrarch, on the other hand, would deceive us, or rather deceived himself, when he alludes depreciatingly to his Italian poetry. Latin was the language of learned men: he deemed it degrading to write for the people; and, fancying that the difficulty of writing Latin was an obstacle glorious to overcome, he treated with disdain any works expressed in the vulgar tongue. Yet even while he said that these compositions were puerile, he felt in his heart the contrary. He bestowed great pains on correcting them, and giving them that polished grace for which they are remarkable. Still his reason (which in this instance, as in others, is often less to be depended upon than our intuitive convictions,) assured him that he could never hold a high place among poets till he composed a Latin poem. While living in solitude at Vaucluse, yet ambitious that the knowledge of his name should pass beyond the confines of his narrow valley, and be heard even in Italy, he meditated some great work worthy of the genius he felt within him. He at first contemplated writing a history of Rome; from Romulus to Titus; till one day the idea of an epic poem; on the subject of his favourite hero. Scipio Africanus, struck him. He instantly commenced it with all the ardour of a first conception, and continued for some time to build up cold dull Latin hexameters. It is curious to mark how ill he succeeded: but the structure and spirit of the language he used was then totally unknown; so that, while we lament the mis-spending of his time, we cannot wonder at his failure.