DANTE AND HIS IDEAL DANTE AND HIS IDEAL BY HERBERT BAYNES, M.R.A.S. Author of " Word-Pictures " " The Evolutien of Religious Thought in Modern Indian? etc. WITH A FRONTISPIECE AFTER GIOTTO'S FRESCO. ILonlion : SWAN SONNENSCHEIN & CO., PATERNOSTER SQUARE. 1891 BUTLER & TANNKB, THE SBLWOOD PUNTING WOBKS, FKOMK, AND LONDON. LIBRARY UNlVERSri Y OF CALIFORNIA SANTA BARBARA B3 PREFACE. THE object of this little book is twofold. On the one hand, it appeals to those who take delight in watching the growth of ideals, and more particularly in the fourteenth century ; and, on the other, it endeavours to lay before the reader a consistent view of Dante's trilogy, according to the well-known theory of the late Dr. Karl Witte, which, in spite of all that has been said against it, seems to me the one most adequate to explain the facts. As regards the poet's psychology, I am indebted to a very interesting article by Dr. Georg Simmel, which appeared in vi PREFACE. the Zeitschrift filr Sprachwissenschaft und Volkerpsychologie. Wherever translation appears in inverted commas, it is that of Professor Charles Tomlinson, F.E.S., the trans- lator of the Inferno ; in all other cases it is my own. CONTENTS. PAGE PREFACE v DANTE AND GOETHE 2 THE POET'S IDEAL 19 THE INFERNO . . ... . .28 THE PURGATORIO AND THE POET'S PSYCHOLOGY 49 THE PARADISO ....... 66 THE TRILOGY 75 BEATRICE AND THE SCIENCE DIVINE . . . 88 APPENDIX . 101 voi, ch'avete gl'intelletti sani, Mirate la dottrina che s' asconde Sotto il velame degli versi strani. ye, icho have the steady brain, Weigh well the thoughts which 'neath the veil Of mystic verses here remain ! Inf. ix. 61. DANTE AND HIS IDEAL. IN Dante it has been truly said, f M:en silent centuries found a voice" ; and for nearly six centuries the unfathomable song" has been growing in favour, and has more than justified the name of its author Dante, i.e. Durante, the enduring one, and Allu(li,ifivi t jfche wing-bearer. His peculiar interest for our own day is this, that, though he was pre-eminently the Poetof Faith, he was the first to clearly enunciate the profound truth that we only arrive at \ Truth through Doubt. Indeed, I make 1 B 2 DANTE AND HIS IDEAL. bold to say, that he who will patiently listen to the singer of the fourteenth century will in the end learn more than from a study of the dramas and lyrics of him who is par excellence the poet of the nineteenth. Let us compare for a moment the masterpiece of the one with that of the other. Alike in the Divina Commedia and in Faust, we have the description of a Pilgrjmis Progress, and " from this world to that which is to come." Ideal creations as they both are, they are nevertheless as real as they are ideal. [nthe one case we have the revelation of the intense soul, Dante ; in the other " the verbal expression of the essential man, Goethe." Much as we might like to have a glimpse into the childhood of DANTE AND GOETHE. 3 Dante and of Faust, the story of the earliest years is, nevertheless, for the most part left untold. When the veil is lifted we behold both pilgrims of middle age, in a state of profoundest gloom as regards both mind and life. The one can no longer live in the shows of things and feed upon the husks of the world. His country, his home, and even his most intimate friends, are filled with low desires and sordid ambition, and more especially with the three vices of Pride, Envy, and Avarice. He leaves the pleasant groves and calm retreats of what might have been the City of Peace, and all the association of years, and wanders forth an exile, shut out from his native shores. Thus it was, as pilgrim and stranger in the world of 4 DANTE AND HIS IDEAL. Falsehood, the selva oscura, that he built himself, out of his own bosom, that edifice of undying Truth, home of the heart, broad on the roots of eternity. The other feels in the highest degree the woe of the world, the irony of life, and is more than " half in love with easeful death." A burden to himself and a mystery to his companions, he has but one wish left to have done for ever with the stage on which he has played so impoten ta part. To the one this present world is but a passing show, an unreal shadow ; so the theatre of his journeyings is " that awful other world," bodied forth in Hell, Purgatory, and Paradise. To the other it is ** the world at large, as known to him, before whose calm intellectual vision had passed the DAXTE AND GOETHE. 5 long procession of the ages." Both pilgrims have their difficulties and dan- gers, and the latter his frequent falls ; but for both there is redemption at last, and, even in heaven, a higher and more mysterious pilgrimage. But we cannot fail to be struck with the great difference in the moral stand- point of the two men. To Goethe sin is after all a matter of no very great importance, and we are not a little as- tonished at the easy-going way in which, after a long life of manifold backsliding, Faust's immortal part is wafted to the skies. To Dante, on the other hand, all sin is of vital significance. To him the laureate's words apply : " The Poet in a golden clime was born, \ With golden stars above ; \ 6 DANTE AND HIS IDEAL. Dowered with the hate of hate, the scorn of scorn, The love of love ! " Banished from his native city whilst his country was torn asunder by faction and strife, his poet-heart bled for the suffering land, for the God-forsaken people; and as to St. John on that lonely isle of Patmos the vision of the New Jerusalem, so came to the banished Dante, in the stillness of noonday, whis- perings of a higher and better life than any he had known. Then it was that he began to write that wonderful poem, the subject of which is man, the pilgrim, who, according to his actions, ascends the hill which leads to everlasting life or descends to " bottomless perdition." jr Of Dante's biography little is known. He was born at Florence, near the DANTE AND GOETHE. 7 monastery of Badia, where the Chiesa de' Bonomini now stands, on the 8th May, 1265. His father, Aldighiero II., died while the poet was still a boy ; but his mother, Donna Bella, took care to give him the best education that was possible in those days. As his master, she chose Brunette Latini, a well-known poet and philosopher, the cotto aspetto of the fifteenth canto of the Inferno. It was not long before Dante made him- self master of sej^eral laagtrages, and learnt to delight in il suo maestro e il suo autore, '\VTrgil.\ Giving himself to the study of Aristotle and the classics, he soon became known among color che sanno. Astronomy, jurisprudence, medi- cine, geography, and geometry, were aU/ included in his curriculum. His most 8 DANTE AND HIS IDEAL. intimate friend was the philosopher Guido Cavalcanti, whilst his guides in the fine arts were Giotto and Casella. " His Casella, whom he wooed to sing, Met in the milder shades of Purgatory." After wandering an^ejule^/in various places in Lombardj, Tuscany, and Ro- magna, he finally arrived at Ravenna, where he remained under the protection of the Signori da Polenta, until his death, on the 14th September, 1321, aged fifty-six. But in order to fully realize the well- nigh impossible task which our poet }et himself in undertaking to write the Divine Comedy, we must remember that the state of literature and of the scholar the fourteenth century was such, that DANTE AND GOETHE. g he who would own a copy of one or more of the few manuscripts which ex- isted, must either himself spend months or perhaps years in careful transcription of the text, or, if sufficiently well-to-do, engage a professional scribe. The lot of the literary man in those days was anything but an enviable one. Some one applied to Petrarch for a copy of his treatise, De Vita Solitaria. His answer was : " God is my witness, that ten times and upwards I have endeavoured, if the style were not such as to give pleasure to the mind and the ear, that at least the written characters should please the eye ; but all my attempts to overcome the well-known evasions of that part of the literary world known as the copyists io DANTE AND HIS IDEAL. have been vain. It may appear incre- dible that a work that required only a few months for its composition cannot be copied in as many years. After many delays, I left it as good as copied in the hands of a priest. I know not whether his promise will be held sacred, as befits his sacred character, or be as fallacious as that of a copyist." The three earliest editions of the Divina Commedia appeared in the year 1472, the first at Foligno, the second at Jesi, and the third in Mantua. It is not a little remarkable that in none of these towns, not even in the home of that poet who was destined to lead Dante through Hell and Purgatory, has there ever appeared a second edition. Then follow Naples (1474), Venice DANTE AND GOETHE. 11 (1477), and Milan (1477-8). In Dante's native city, Florence, the first edition, with Landino's excellent commentary, appeared in 1481, followed by a second, with valuable woodcuts, in 1497. Then at long intervals came the editions of 1506, 1572, and 1595, of which the second only contains the Inferno, and it is worthy of remark, as characteristic of the age, that the two last describe the poet as a Florentine nobleman. After this we have a break of 176 years, and another of at least forty-one years. Since 1817, however, the Florentine press has, in this respect, been busier than that of any other city. It is perhaps not too much to say that the state of Europe in the time of Dante was one of barbnri 13 " 1 The Churi 12 DANTE AND HIS IDEAL. the World were at open warfare, so that society was split into^ai} leasi^ JWCL tigns, the ijruelts, or papal adherents, on the one hand, and the Ghibellines, or Imperialists, on the other. In these two parties all men were interested, for they disposed of the fortunes and lives of all. Being a well-known Florence, where he was born, our poet was of course mixed up in these quarrels, and, indeed, became their victim. Now, this chaos of outer relations had its re- flex in the spiritual life of those times. Pardons and indulgences were sold so as to be "adjusted to every vice" and to " take the place of every virtue." Long had the phantasy of Christendom been trying to realize the torments of the damned and the various forms of pen- DANTE AND GOETHE, 13 ance undergone by those who indeed had left the world in the faith, but with unexpiated guilt. Whilst reviving Art was representing the last judgment on church-doors and in mosaics, Literature was rich in visions of purgatory and the things beyond the grave. Nay, there was a more immediate sensuous repre- sentation of the fate of the disembodied spirit in the spiritual plays, and more especially the Easter plays, of France and Italy. The stage consisted of three stories, one above another. In the middle, one saw man and his dwelling- place, and the toil and turmoil of life. Above were the heavens and the persons of the Trinity, with angels and " spirits of the just made perfect " ; but below were the fire and brimstone, and one 14 DANTE AND HIS IDEAL. could hear the oft-repeated cry, " Dam- nation ever; salvation never !" A most magnificent play of this kind was per- formed on one of the Florentine Arno- bridges in Dante's lifetime. 1 Nor is this to be wondered at. The daily in- creasing disasters of the time naturally led men to believe that the end of the world was at hand Society hadjost its ideals. Righteousness had given place to expediency. Hence the prophet of his age had to sing to eager listeners a message of awful grandeur, of life-long signifi- cance. He could not but show them the Hell in which they were living, the Pur- gatory through which, as he believed, it was possible for them to go, in order that, by repentance, they might reach 1 See Karl Witte's Gottliche Komtidic, p. 9. DANTE AND GOETHE. 15 the Paradise prepared for the redeemed. Cast forth by society, homeless, friend- less, the poet sings his " mystic un- fathomable song." As Carlyle^&randly puts it : " The deeper naturally would the Eternal World impress itself on him ; that awful reality over which, after all, this Time-world, with its Florences and banishments, only flutters as an unreal shadow. Florence thou shalt never see : but Hell and Purgatory and Heaven thou shalt surely see ! What is Florence, CAN della Scala, and the World and Life altogether? Eternity : thither, of a truth, not elsewhither, art thou and all things bound ! The great soul of^Dante, homeless on earth, made its home more and more in that awful i6 DANTE AND HIS IDEAL. jother world. Naturally his thoughts brooded on that, as on the one fact im- portant for him. Bodied or bodiless, it is the one fact important for all men : but to Dante, in that age, it was bodied in fixed certainty of scientific shape ; he no more doubted of that Malebolge Pool, that it all lay there with its gloomy circles, with its alii guai, and that he himself should see it, than we doubt that we should see Constantinople if we went thither. Dante's heart, long filled with this, brooding over it in speechless thought and awe, bursts forth at length into * mystic, unfathomable song ' ; and this his Divine Comedy, the most re- markable of all modern Books, is the result." When Dante began his great work, DANTE AND GOETHE. 17 and when he finished, it is not easy to determine. On the authority of Andrea di Leon Poggi, a nephew on the sister's side of our poet himself, Boccaccio tells us that he began it before the exile, and that afi that time he had already com- posed the first seven canti. What seems to be pretty certain is, that the idea and the plan of the work were anterior to the exile, but that the execu- tion was posterior. Besides T+^ia" -irnrm, in which he was certainly most at home, the gre^b Florentine wrote both poetry and prose in Latin ["prr^o we h&vej&maa*chia a work full of the Ghibelline spirit, which was composed about the time when Arrigo VII. contemplated the sub- jugation of Italy, between 1312 and c 1 8 DANTE AND HIS IDEAL. 1313, and a book entitled < in their sufferings. All punisliin^nLtj.s_uri- fication. Amongst the gluttons Dante recognises Forese de' Donati, who ex- plains : E non pur una volta, questo spazzo Girando, si rinfresca nostra pena : lo dico pena, e dovre' dir sollazzo ; Che quella voglia all' arbore ci niena, Che meno Cristo lieto a dire Eli Quando ne libero con la sua vena. The Furgatorio gives us so much of Dante's psychology that we shall do well to look at it in that light. THE PURGATORIO. 53 The soul is throughout one and indi- vidual ; the rational, Grod-given soul draws the nature-given faculties (the sensitive and the vegetative) into its own circle, and makes them one with itself. To the Platonic view, which ascribes several souls to man, Dante makes the empirical objection, that if a pleasant or painful sensation, or indeed any engrossing perception, takes posses- sion of consciousness, all other presen- tative faculties are cut off (Purg. iv. 1). But this does not prevent one's holding distinct powers of the soul and their complete substantiation : memory, for instance, incites phantasy to recall the past. When, however, one of the soul's faculties is engaged, when there is a strong sense-impression, the other 54 DANTE AND HIS IDEAL. senses seem extinguished^ and even Imagination may so take possession of us that we become oblivious of trumpet- blasts around us; 2 in this case the soul is no longer itself, self-consciousness leaves it : Un' alma sola, che vive e sente e se in se rigira. 3 The opposite state is when it is intera. Hence for Dante, to~wKom~the oneness of personality is of such great import- ance, the intero assumes a moral aspect : it is that which is true to itself and becomes corrupt by nothing outside : Mardocheo, che fu al dire ed al far cosi 'ntero. 4 Whoever is not capable of this con- centration, in whom various thoughts 1 Purg. xxxii. 1. 2 Purg. xvii. 13. 3 Purg. xxv. 74. 4 Purg. xvii. 29. THE PURGATORIO. 55 are constantly succeeding one another, will arrive at no goal, because the energy of the one nullifies that of the other. And as for the individual so also for the race, the highest goal is to reach Unity; for we must strive after likeness to G-od, who is wholly One and individual. Nevertheless this concentration need not be absolutely internal, but, as we have seen, may affect an external object; when, for instance, music is heard, the soul is intera, because then the life- spirits are almost all brought into action, e la virtu di' tutti quasi corre allo spirito sensibile che riceve il suono ; similarly a wish may get so ardent that one becomes well-nigh incapable of speaking of any- thing else. 56 DANTE AND HIS IDEAL. The jmmortalitj_j3f-4b soul is to Dante a self-evident dogma, which needs neither explanation nor justification. In the Inferno we read : " On this side are the graves of Epicurus and all his followers, who say that the soul dies with the body." To the heretics belongs also that Cardinal who had said as he was dying, " If there is a soul, then I have lost it for the Ghibellines." The soul being an immediate gift of God, it must be a sin against Him to doubt its imperishability or even its existence. To deny this Immortality is indeed stupidity, a contradiction ; for, inasmuch as many have already renounced the pre- sent life for the sake of that which is beyond, Man, instead of being the most perfect creature which indeed he is THE PURGATORIO, 57 would be the most imperfect. But, he adds, as to whether the immortal part in us is corporeal or incorporeal, opi- nions differ. To change this sorrow- laden earthly life for the heavenly was Dante's heart's desire ; it need therefore be no surprise to find him eagerly de- fending Immortality. The relationship of ^o^and soul is to him a purely dualistic one, although, in a theologico-metaphysical sense, the uind is the final cause of the physical. *" ^^^.^^i-^^"^'^^^^ When the formation of the foetus is sufficiently advanced for it to be able to move and have sensation as an animal, God, delighted with Nature's art-work, comes to him, and breathes into him a new mind, the higher soul-faculty, whilst the material part is formed from 58 DANTE AND HIS IDEAL. materials which were already there, and at death becomes absolutely separated from the spiritual element. Thus the dead soul forms for itself a shadow- body from the air by which it is sur- rounded. In that lovely and touching scene in the Purgatorio (xxi. 130) be- tween Statius and Virgil, when the former learns that Virgil is before him, he bends at once to kiss his feet, but Virgil holds him back with, " We are both but shadows"; and he, "Now thou canst measure the greatness of my con- suming love for thee, which led me to forget that we are shadows, and to clasp shadows as though they were solid bodies." In spite of this altogether different origin, end, and essence, the soul is most intima,fceiy--CDTinecteT3---w4tli THE PURGATORIO. 59 body, gathering up into a relatively unified whole the elements presented to it, as in wine the sun's heat unites with the sap in the vine, it resolves itself into different members having different func- tions, as God shows Himself in manifold fulfilment in the stars. 1 Amongst the imperfections of life Dante feels most keenly the incapacity of Language to adequately express thoughts and feelings. Once he says : " Had I but the fulness of power to ex- press it, which I have to think it out ! " Our mind is better able to think than to speak. In a dedication to Can Grande he says : "Multanamque per intellectum vidernus, quibus signa vocalia desunt." Language must, of course, share the 1 Par. ii. 133. 60 DANTE AND HIS IDEAL. common human imperfection, for it serves to show us that of which we are still in ignorance, and the state of Ignorance is characteristic of mortals as opposed to the heavenly beings, who have absolute knowledge in the con- templation of God. Hence the arTgsis have no language, as they have nothing more to communicate. Nevertheless, he is not insensible to the incomparable importance of Language to us; not only because it has come to us straight from God, but inasmuch as it is as necessary an instrument for our ideas-s . the horse is to the soldier ; and as the best soldier uses the best horse, so the best idea the most complete speech. iNay, it is successful in effecting what is, after all, the most powerful and won- THE PURGATORIO. 61 Herful, namely, in moving the human /heart; hence Dante interprets the Orpheus-saga allegorically, in the sense of the wise man who with his voice understands how to tame and lead cruel and rough hearts, which are like stones and wild beasts. Thus his pessimism concerning Language is not thorough- going; he recognises that words adjust themselves to subjects, that in them primitive wisdom is hidden, nay, so great is the power of the ^sweetness _of the simple word Amor, that he cannot imagine that anything Amor does can be other than sweet. In one point, however, he makes a difference between things and their linguistic expression, namely, that a correct conclusion can be drawn from false premises ; for, inas- 62 DANTE AND HIS IDEAL. much as the True in itself can never follow from the false, it is only the signs of the True which can come from the signs for the false. /It was only natural that a poet who was to creatively mould his language to purposes quite new, and thus to form a new language, should be deeply sensible alike of the power and the limitation of linguistic expression ; indeed, it is of such value to him that, in his opinion, a translated poetic work would be without beauty and harmony. Very significant is the fact that the laudatory passages on language occur in his early writings, whilst those of complaint are to be found in the Commedia. Here, too, prose is said to have greater power of expression than poetry, whereas for- THE PURGATORIO. 63 merly he had sought the model which prose-writers should always follow in the poets. In fact, the linguistic ques- tion is to Dante a branch of that dualism of which to him the world consists : --sin.ee men differ from each other infinitely, they need means of communication mere movements or gesticulation, such as the ..animals make use of, would not be sufficiently in- telligible, nor would the purely spiritual intercommunication of the angels do ; hence the vehicle of thought must be at once rational and sensual : and this is just what language is; as sound sen- suous, as full of meaning rational and conceptual. But that human incapacity to be equal in language to an overwhelmingly DANTE AND HIS IDEAL. momentous question or subject, is > carried up even into the faculty of thought itself : " That which I must now describe a voice has never ex- pressed, a pen described, nor even phantasy ever conceived." Dante calls the Muses to his aid, having things to sing which even to think are difficult. Hence the inability of our intellect to arrive at things to which phantasy can- not help us. Perhaps the cantietrai change to which languages are subject^ is the cause of their imperfection. As an instance, our poet gives the variety of names for il sommo Bene, namely, God. 1 1 In the twenty-sixth canto of the Paradiso (130) our poet puts into Adam's mouth the following remarkable words : THE PURGATORIO. By mutual arrangement, therefore, the jinmutable Latin was adopted, the dialects retaining the difference, and only the Language of the Heart being the same for all. The infinite variety, the constant change, which is every- where inseparable from humanity, is the more intimately bound up with the linguistic question, as Dante obviously accepts a fundamental connexion be- tween language and people; he classi- Opera naturale e ch' uom favella Ma, cosi o cosi, natura lascia Poi fare a voi secondo che v'abbella. Pria ch' io scendesi all' infernale ambascia, / s' appellava in terra il sommo Bene Onde vien la letizia che mi fascia ; Eli si chiamo poi : e cio conviene ; Che 1' uso de ! mortali 6 come fronda In ramo, che sen va, ed altra viene. F 66 DANTE AND HIS IDEAL fies nations according to the word they have for Yes, and characterizes Italy as the land dove '1 si si parla. 1 On quitting Purgatory, Dante is taken up by Beatrice into the Empy- rean, where the moving principle of the heavenly spheres is the longing after God. Here he beholds that great com- pany which no man can number, out of every nation, kindred, tribe, and tongue, those who have come out of great tri- bulation, have washed their robes, and now, in white stoles, stand before the throne of the Divine ! Our poet feels himself a child and appeals to his celestial guide. She unfolds to him the 1 See a most interesting article in the Zeit- schrift fur Sprachwissenschaft und Volkerpsy- chologie, by Georg Simmel : Dante's Psychologie. THE PARADISO. 67 nature of the world, the origin of evil, and the secret of Redemption. He breathes " an ampler ether, a diviner air," as he becomes aware how, led by the pilot Love, souls set sail for different havens in the great Sea of Being. Amor is the beginning, middle, end of Paradise ; Amor which moves the sun and all the stars. With St. Paul the poet says : " Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not love, I have become as sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal." Looking upon Dante with the com- passion of a mother for her delirious child, Beatrice says : . . . Le cose tutte quante Hann' ordine tra loro ; e questo e forma Che 1'universo a Dio fa simigliante. 68 DANTE AND HIS IDEAL. What is this ordine, the Eta of the Yedic poets, the Asa of the " wise men from the East " ? It is Love, where- by the universe becomes an image of the divine Principle, which turns Chaos into Kosmos, and forms the world into a well-ordered and beautiful structure. Nay, when in the Purgatorio he explains how he came to be the author of those matchless lines : Donne, ch' avete intelletto d' amore, our j)oet ascrjlrnn nil hin f^mrrrrTTr in verse to the same noble influence, to a lofty love which takes possession of tlie soul. And now Dante is realizing and en- joying to the full the New Life of which he wrote in early youth. In THE PARADISO. 69 Paradise he sees not only women, but men " with the intellect of love." And this life of love leads him to a very significant view of truth. According to Dante it is possible for us all to know truth, and from a knowledge of particular truths, purified and strength- ened by previous Doubt, to arrive at the highest Truth, namely, knowledge of God. Io veggio ben che giammai non si sazia Nostro intelleto, se il Ver non lo illustra, Di fuor dal qual nessun vero si spazia. Posasi in esso come fera in lustra, Tosto che giunto 1' ha : e giugner puollo ; Se non, ciascun disio sarebbe frustra. Nasce per quello, a guisa di rampollo, Appie del vero il dubbio : ed e natura, Ch' al sommo pinge noi di collo in collo. 70 DANTE AND HIS IDEAL. Full well I see at peace is ne'er our mind Unless the Light of Truth upon it fall, Outside of which we nothing true can find. And as the lion in his lair doth rest, So rests a human soul in Truth, when found ; And found it can be, else were vain all quest. And pure desire. As, too, upon the tree, The shoot, so groweth Doubt at foot of Truth And leads from height to height to make us free ! Par. iv. 124. The Peace of Paradise is in the Will of God, toward which the whole crea- tion moves : In la sua volontade e nostra pace : Ella e quel mare al qual tutto si muove Cio ch' ella cria e che natura face. In the Paradiso it is only natural that we should find our poet's theology, and it is worthy of note that Dante shows a marvellous depth and breadth THE PARADISO. 71 in this respect. As regards the anthro- pomorphism of the old Testament, for instance, he says : Per questo la Scrittura condescende A vostra facilitate, e piedi e mano Attribuisce a Dio, ed altro intende. Respecting the composition of the Paradiso there is a curious story re- lated by Boccaccio on the authority of Petro Giardino of Ravenna. Whilst writing it, it was Dante's custom to send a few cantos at a time to Messer Can Grande della Scala, who, after reading them, ordered copies to be made. " In this way all but the last thirteen cantos reached Messer Cane, when the poet died without having mentioned them to any one. Dante's sons searched diligently for them, but 72 DANTE AND HIS IDEAL. could not find them ; whereupon several of their friends requested them to finish the poem. They had actually com- menced their presumptuous task when a vision appeared to Jacopo, who was the more ardent of the two in the matter, which revealed to him where the missing cantos were to be found. In the ninth month after the poet's decease, one night near the hour of matins, Jacopo went to the house of one Petro Griardino, of Ravenna, an earnest disciple of Dante, and told him that in his sleep he had just seen a figure of his father clad in white rai- ment, and his face shining with a super- natural light ; and that, on his asking if he were still alive, he replied, 'Yes, but with the true life, not with the life of THE PARADISO. 73 this world.' Whereupon he asked him if he had finished his work before he departed to the true life ; and if he had, what he had done with the con- cluding cantos, since they could no- where be found. * Yes, I finished it,' answered the luminous figure, and forthwith taking the hand of his son led him to the chamber where he had been accustomed to sleep, and, touching a part of the wall, said : ' Here is that which you have so long sought for.' And these words having been spoken, the dream came to an end. Jacopo was so affected that he immediately rose and sought out his friend Petro Griar- dino, to tell him of his dream, and re- quest him to accompany him in the place indicated. So they went together, it 74 DANTE AND HIS IDEAL. still being dark, to the house where Dante died, and calling up the master they proceeded to the place pointed out. There was a piece of mat- ting fastened against the wall, as they had before noticed when Dante lived there. On removing it an opening was discovered behind, and in it they found many writings which had become mouldy from the damp, and would have perished had they remained there much longer. Having carefully cleaned them, they perceived the numbers of the missing cantos, and found to their joy that the papers contained the conclusion of the poem the last thirteen. These they gladly copied, and sent them to Messer Cane, and thus the labour of so many years was rendered perfect." THE TRILOGY. 75 Now, in order to fully understand the central figure of the Poem, we must bear in mind that t.hfl is part of a Trilogy consisting of Nuova, Amoroso Convivio, and Divina Uommedia. When still a child^. Dante's innocent heart was aflame with love for Beatrice, daughter of Folco Portinari. The at- v tachment, which was mutual, began when they were both about nineyears old, a-nd lasted, in Dante's case, ejcen after Beatrice had become the. jwilfe of Simone del Bardi. The Vitii Nuova, which was probably written in 1292, after Beatrice's death, is the book of this pure and lofty love, this childlike living piety, beholding everywhere the finger of God and the riches of His grace. 76 DANTE AND HIS IDEAL. Questa gentilissima, la quale fu distruggi trice di tutti li vizj, e reina delle virtu. When Beatrice approaches a Spirito d' Amore, distruggendo tutti gli altri spiriti sensitivi, drives out the Spiriti del viso, and takes their place. " I say that when she appeared in any place the hope of her adorable salu- tation worked upon me in such a way that I seemed no longer to have an enemy, and such a glow of charity came over me that I could have forgiven any one who had offended me; and if any one had asked anything of me, my only reply would have been, ' Love ! ' with humility depicted on my face. . . . And when this most gentle lady saluted, THE TRILOGY. 77 love, so far from being the means of overshadowing my intolerable beatitude, produced in me such sovereign sweet- ness that my body, being wholly subject thereto, often became as it were an in- animate mass. Hence it was manifest that my beatitude was in her salutation, although it produced effects on me beyond my powers of endurance." " This most gentle lady rose so much in favour with all men, that as she went along people ran to look at her ; which rejoiced me greatly. And when she was near any one, so much truth entered his heart, that he dared not raise his eyes on her or return her salutation, as many can testify from experience. She went on her way crowned and clothed with humility, and displayed no pride at what 78 DANTE AND HIS IDEAL. she saw and heard. And when she had passed by, many said : * That is not a woman, but one of the most beautiful --angels of heaven ! ' And others saidj. * This is a marvel ! Blessed be the Lord who can work so admirably ! ' I say that she was so gentle and replete with every pleasant gift and grace, that those who looked on her experienced a sweet and tender feeling which cannot be described. And no one could look on her without sighing. These, and still more wonderful things, were produced by her marvellous virtue. Hence, think- ing on these things, and wishing to devote something to her praise to em- balm, as it were, her excellent and mar- vellous power, not only for the sake of those who had known her, but, so far as THE TRILOGY. 79 words could do it, to convey some idea of her to those who knew her not, to this end I wrote the following sonnet : " When she, my lady, greets folk with ' Good- day,' Such candour and such gentleness combine, That tongues grow trenmlous and speech resign, And to look on her no one dare essay. She feels men's praises as she goes her way In meekness clad, an influence benign ; You fancy she must be a thing divine, Come down from heaven, a marvel to display. Her presence is so pleasant to the eye, That through the eye the heart with sweetness glows: To understand it, you its power must prove. And from those lips an influence seems to move So sweet and full of love, it overflows, And goes on saying to our spirit : ' Sigh ! ' " J 1 See The Sonnet, its Origin, etc., by C. Tomlinson, F.R.S. 8o DANTE AND HIS IDEAL. When, however, he arrives at ftitt manhood, to his intense grief, the object of liis affection is taken from him. He mourns as for lost innocence. But at length tt new: charm entices him. In the loojss-ef -a-4kir^maiden he thinks he can recover the love and mercy of Beatrice. " When," he says, " this lady looked at me, it was with a face so pious and pallid, as though it were of love, that I was often reminded of my most noble lady." She promises to comfort and console, and indeed it is not long before her flashing eyes repress the memory of the dear departed and take full posses- sion of his heart. This second lady is none other than the queen of that vasty, speculative deep, which is lighted mostly by the moon. To this painful and THE TRILOGY. 81 baneful is dedicated. It is a restless and calamitous affection, for the peace of childlike devotion has vanished from his breast. He is ever asking some new favour of the Beloved ; some- times she turns herself away from him, and then loud are his sighs and moans ; at times, too, he feels that this love can never bring lasting satisfaction to his heart. She leads him to philosophize upon everything which comes before him. He investigates the nature of righteous- ness, of valour, and of nobility ; he develops his principles of statesmanship ; he weighs well the great events of his time, and dedicates his life to what he considers true. Now it is that he is G 82 DANTE AND HIS IDEAL. drawn into the vortex of party politics, which oblige him to take so leading a part in his native city. This also is the time when he develops his views on language and poetry So keen is the conHie%jof_opinion T the noise of many waters, the glare of many lights, that he thenceforth resolves to leave the allurements of the world and to tread the steep and lonely paths of Specu- lation in order to be able to look into the sunlight of Eternal Truth and to know the nature of God. Here how- ever he has soon to learn how mistaken is the way he has chosen, how insuffi- cient all earthly Keason is where only Revelation can lead to the goal. In one of his canzone our poet says : THE TRILOGY. 83 Le dolci rime d' amor ch' io solia Cercar ne' miei pensieri, Convien ch' io lasci, non perch' io non speri Ad esse ritornare ; Ma perche gli atti disdegnosi e feri Che nella donna mia Sono appariti, in' han chiuso la via Dell' usato parlare. Again, ID the Vita Nuova we read : Allora Io mio cuore incomincio dolorosamente a pentirsi del desidero, a cui cosi vilmente s' avea lasciato possedere alquanti di contro alia costanza della ragione, e discacciato questo cotal malvagio desiderio, si rivolsero tutti i mieipensamenti alia loro gentilissima Beatrice. " Man tauscht sich," says Witte, " wenn man, wie geschehen ist, diesen, von Dante auf das unzweideutigste ausgesprochenen, Gegensatz von Religion und Philosophie fur eine Besonderheit unserer Zeit halt. Nicht nur dass er in alien Zeitaltern wiederkehrt, so trat er gerade im spa- teren Mittelalter mit besonderer Entschiedenheit hervor. Allerdings redete die Philosophie jener Tage durchgangig eine christliche Sprache ; aber 84 DANTE AND HIS IDEAL. durch ihr Bestreben, die Wahrheit, weim auch in Uebereinstimmung mit dem Grlauben, doch auf selbststandigem Wege zu finden, trat sie in aus- gesprochenen Gegensatz zur Kirche. Ohne an die Ivampfe Abalard's und seiner Nachfolger zu erinnern, war das dreizehnte Jahrhundert leiden- schaftlich erregt warden durch das Eindringen Aristotelischer Philosophic, in der Gestalt welche ihr der Spanische Araber Ibn-Roschd (Averroes) gegeben hatte, in die Behandlung theologischer Fragen. Lange wurden die Averroisten als Ket- zer verfolgt und nnch in Presken des vierzehnten Jahrhunderts erscheint Averroes als typischer Vertreter des Unglaubens ; ihn aber betrachtete man wieder als den Chorfuhrer der Philosophen jener Zeit. Erst bei den grossen Kirchenlehrern der zweiten Halfte des Jahrhunderts, bei Albert von Coin, Thomas von Aquino und Wilhelm Dur- antis, finden wir die peripatetische Philosophic des Averroismus entkleidet, mit der Theologie versohnt und zur Hauptstiitze scholastischer Be- griindung der Kirchenlehre umgestaltet. Wenn nun auch durchaus nicht zu behaupten ist, dass es gerade Averroistische Wege gewesen seyen, welche Dante eingeschlagen, so hat es doch durchaus nichts Befremdendes, dass die Wande- THE TRILOGY. 85 lungen des Verhaltnisses von Religion imd Philo- sophie, welche jenes Jahrhundert erfaliren, sich im G-eiste des Dichters individuell wiederholt haben." How deceptive the light of Philosophy is, and why it is so, Beatrice tells us in the Paradiso (xxix. 85) : Voi non andate giu per un sentiero Filosofando, tanto vi trasporta L' anior dell' apparenza e' 1 suo pensiero. Yt cannot icalk on earth the sure and certain icay If led by Reason's lamp : so oft the love Of visions false and fitful thought lead all astray. The training which the poet has enjoyed in the school of the wisdom of the world, so far from helping, has only hindered him from realising the divine truths which Beatrice reveals to him. 86 DANTE AND HIS IDEAL. Hence, to the question why her speech is so dark to him, she answers : Perche conoschi, disse, quella scuola C' hai seguitata, e veggi sua dottrina Come puo seguitar la mia parola ; E veggi vostra via dalla divina Distar cotanto, quanto si discorda Da terra il ciel che piu alto festina. That thou maycst know ichat kind of school It is thou followcst, hoiv such a doctrine Ne'er can understand my word or rule. Thou seest too hoic far from the divine Thy way lies, far as from the earth The loftiest heaven, and the stars that shine ! Dante has become estranged from Christianity ; he lacks the three virtues so characteristic of our faTth^-febeHtJa"c[ passions which take their place drag him back to the stormy life where there is no light. THE TRILOGY. 87 Then comes the Grace of G-od and revives the Ray of Religion ; he repents having cberishedtHe arrog^nceTflf philo? sophy ; Ibhere is a resistless resurrection "oFHie old faith, of the. old love to Beatrice. Contra questo awersario della ragione si levo un di, quasi nell'ora di nona, una forte imma- ginazione in me: che mi parea vedere questa gloriosa Beatrice con quelle vestimenta saguigne, colle quali apparve prima agli occhi miei. Vita Nuova, cap. 40. On the day when the Saviour re- deemed the human race, he too feels a mighty moving of the Spirit and experiences a great salvation. But, according to the Catholic Church, past sins still weigh upon the soul ; so must the sinner's crushed and sin-laden heart experience the awfulness of its estrange- 88 DANTE AND HIS IDEAL. ment from God, and then, by expiation in Purgatory, become meet for the Paradise which God has prepared for spirits redeemed. We have seen, then, that Portinari's daughter, who, on earth, had been for Dante the embodiment of a pure and lofty piety, becomes, as he returns to her in ideal revival after a period of unfaithfulness, a higher and altogether spiritual Beauty, a symbol of the deeper knowledge of God, of a theology refined and strengthened by science against doubt and false doctrine. Already in the Vita Nuova our poet had said : Appresso a questo sonetto apparve a me una mirabil visione. nella quale vidi cose, che mi facero proporre di non dir piu di questa bene- detta, infino a tanto ch'io non potessi piu degna- mente trattare di lei E di venire a cio io studio BEATRICE. 89 quail to posso, si com' ella sa veracemente. Sicche, se piacere sara di Colui per cui tutte le cose vivono, che la mia vita per alquanti anni perseveri, spero di dire di le quell o che ma non fu detto d'alcuna. It having pleased Him in whom all things live to spare the poet's life, he wrote in the Comedy Divine : donna di virtu, sola per cui L'umana specie eccede ogni contento Da quel ciel che ha minor li cerchi sui. highly gifted lady, thee to know Enables man to rise, and to excel Whatever the circles of the lower heaven show ! Inf. ii. 76. Veramente a cosi alto sospetto Non ti fermar, se quella nol ti dice Che lume fia tra il vero e 1'intelletto. Non so se intendi ; io dico di Beatrice : Tu la vedrai di sopra, in su la vetta Di questo monte, ridente e felice. 90 DANTE AND HIS IDEAL. To such high questionings be thou no slave But list' to me until, at length, she come Who only from the depths of doubt can save, Who is the light 'twixt intellect and truth. Beatrix call to mind; for, on this moun- tain's top Thou'lt see her, smiling, with the bloom of youth ! Purg. vi. 43. htce, o gloria della gente umana. light, O glory of the human race ! Purg. xxxiii. 115. amanza del primo amante, o diva, Diss' io appresso, il cui parlar m' inonda E scalda si che piu e piu m'avviva. Primaeval Love's beloved, soul divine, Thy speech so warms and moves me, that 1 gloiv With love renewed and life that's more than mine I Par. vi. 118. As to Dante's second love there can BEATRICE. 91 be no doubt, for he tells us in the Con- vivio (ii. 16) : " Cosi, in fine di questo secondo trattato, dico ed affermo che la donna di cui io innamorai appresso lo primo amore, fti la bellissima ed onestissinia figlia dello Imperadore dell' Universe alia quale Pitagora pose nome Filosofia." Thus at the end of this second treatise I say and affirm, that the lady of whom I was enamored after the first love, icas the most beautiful and honourable daughter of the Emperor of the Uni- verse, to whom Pythagoras gave the name of Philosophy. It seems that at this time our poet was engaged in reading the works of Cicero and Boethius, who had often found comfort in Philosophy. Had not the former exclaimed ? " vitse philosophia dux ! virtutis indaga- trix, expultrixque vitiorum ! quid non modo nos, sed omnino vita hominum sine te esse potuisset ? 92 DANTE AND HIS IDEAL. Tu urbes peperisti; tu dissipates homines in societatem vitse convocasti." f " philosophy, guide of life. searcher out of virtues and expeller of vices ! What could we have done without thee: and not only we, but every age of man ? It is thou that didst form cities ; thou that didst call together solitary men to the enjoyment of social intercourse" "E misimi a leggere quello libro di Boezio, nel quale, cattivo e discacciato, consolato s' avea, e un altro libro che Tullio scritto avea, nel quale, trattando dell' amista, avea toccate parole della consolazione di Selio nella morte di Scipione amico suo. . . . lo, che cercava di consolare me trovai non solamente alle mie lagrime rimedio, ma vocaboli d' autori e di scienze e di libri, li quali considerando, giudicava bene, che la Filo- sofia, che era donna di questi autori, di queste scienze e di questi libri, fosse somina cosa. E immaginava lei falta come una donna gentile, e non la potea immaginare in alto alcuno se non rnisericordioso. E da questo immaginare comin- ciai ad andare la ov' ella si dimostrava verace- mente, cioe nelle scuole de' religiosi, e alle dis- BEATRICE. 93 putazioni de' filosofanti ; sicche in picciol tempo, forse di trenta mesi, cominciai tanto a sentire della sua dolcezza, che '1 suo amore cacciava e distruggeva ogni altro pensiero. . . . Questa donna fu figlia d' Iddio, regina di tutto, nobilis- sima e bellissima Filosofia." " I set myself to read that book of Boethius in which, though a captive and in exile, he found consolation, and another book which Cicero had written concerning friendship, wherein are the touching icords of the consolation of Selius at the death of his friend Scipio. ... 7, who sought comfort, found not only a solace to my tears, but, weighing well the icords of science and literature, it seemed to me that Philosophy, ivhich was the bride of those tivo authors, was really the goal of all. I conceived it as a gentle lady, ichom I could not imagine as anything but sympathetic. Her I followed in the schools of the religious and in speculative arguments, where she is best shoivn and known ; so that in a short time, perhaps thirty months, I began to feel her sweetness to such an extent that her love con- cealed and destroyed every other thought. . . . 94 DANTE AND HIS IDEAL. And this was the daughter of the Lord, the queen of all, the most noble and beautiful Philosophy." Her eyes, whose beauty the poet / praises, are her proofs; by her smile she persuades. Love of her finds ex- pression in earnest thought. Dante's philosophy is cognition and recognition of Truth, not however so much from an ethical as rather from a metaphysical standpoint/ Metempirical questions are what chi/fly interested our poet, and, at all events at first, seemed to offer him no insuperable difficulties. He fought hard for the conquest of knowledge; but the greater his exertions, the higher he climbed the cold and lonely heights of speculation, the farther from him in doubtful dimness seemed to gleam the star of Truth ! At first philosophic in- BE A TRICE. 95 vestigation promised to give light, but the eye of the seeker soon became lost in gloom ; the noble lady only hid her- self in the thicker veil. Not that Dante had at all a low conception of Philo- sophy. " La Filosofia, in se considerata, ha per suggetto lo intendere, e per forma un quasi divino amore allo in- telletto." And the poet had honestly expected at once light and help at the shrine of this " gentle lady." Never- theless, after passing through the eighth sphere of the physical and metaphysical sciences, ay, and even the ninth sphere of moral science, he is still in darkness and in doubt. Goethe somewhere says : " Der Kampf zwischen Christenthum und menschlicher Weisheit macht das Geheimniss der Weltgeschichte aus." 96 DANTE AND HIS IDEAL. And this is exactly what Dante found. It was only when he entered the quiet heaven of the divine science, Theology, that he realised the peace and the joy of which he had so long been in search. Ancora lo cielo empireo, per la sua pace, simig- lia la divina scienza, che plena e di tutta pace, la quale non soffera lite alcuna d'opinioni o di sofistici argomenti, per la eccellentissima certezza del suo sogetto, lo quale e Iddio. E die questa dice Esso alii suoi discepoli " La pace mia do a voi, la pace mia lascio a voi," dando e lasciando loro la sua dottrina che i questa scienza di cui i parlo. Conv. ii. 15. At last, then, in the Divine Comedy Dante comes to a clear conviction that it is impossible for unaided human rea- son to arrive at the knowledge of eternal truths. BEATRICE. 97 Matto e chi spera che nostra ragione Possa trascorrer la infmita via Che tiene una sustanzia in tre persone. State contenti, umana gente, al quid ; Chi se potuto aveste veder tutto, Mestier non era partorir Maria. E disiar vedeste senza frutto Tai, che sarebbe lor disio quetato, Ch' eternalmente e dato lor per lutto. lo dico d'Aristotele e di Plato E di molti altri. E qui chino la fronte, E piu non disse, e rimase turbato. That man is Hind icho hopes by human thought To cross the infinite, eternal ivay Which holds one substance in three persons, sought By all. man, suffice " so must it be " ; For if to men omniscience aye were given, WJiat need of Mary, Virgin-Mother, we ? Those too, whose quest ivere ever vain If their desire forthwith were stilled, Which now they seek for ever to attain. H 98 DANTE AND HIS IDEAL. Of Aristotle, Plato, thus I speak, Of many others too. The master said No more, methought almost his heart icould break ! Such, then, is " il poeraa sacro," this Comedy Divine, this Building beautiful and bold, erected by the hands of Heaven and of Earth 1 This is the work of which Schelling said : " Es 1st kein einzelnes Werk eines besondern Zeitalters, einer besondern Stufe der Bildung, sondern urbildlich durch die Allgemeingultig- keit, die es mit der absolutesten Individuality vereinigt, durch die Universalitat, vermoge der es keine Seite des Lebens und der Bildung aus- schliesst, durch die Form endlich, welche nicht besonderer Typus, sondern Typus der Betrach- tung des Universums iiberhaupt ist." In conclusion, let us not forget Dante's exquisite feeling for the Stars, the type BEATRICE. 99 and trope of Infinity. Each canticaends with the word stelle. He issues forth from the Inferno a riveder le stelle, " to see a^ain the stars." At the summit of O the Purgatorio he feels puro e disposto a satire alle stelle, " pure and ready to mount unto the stars." Having attained the Paradiso, his will becomes one with the Divine Will, with L 'Amor che muove il Sole e Valtre stelle, " Love that moveth Sun and Stars ! " And what his old master Brunetto Latini said to him in the gloomy circle of Hell, the poet says to us to-day from Paradise : Se tu segui tua Stella, non puoi fallire a glorioso porto. " Follow thou thy Star, thou shalt not fail of a glorious heaven !" 4 Look to Christ, thou shalt not fail of Paradise ! APPENDIX. IN taking leave of our poet it may be well to remember one or two more of those exquisite inspirations which at once reveal the supreme artist. Dante is great, not only in what he said and sang, bub also in what he left unsaid and unsung. Take, for instance, the way in which he deals with the three sublime Christian concepts : Faith, Hope, Love; the Vision of the Cross in the planet Mars; or the queenly figure of Fortune, the angel in disguise. Quest' e colei ch' e tanto posta in croce Pur da color, che le dovrian dar lode, Dandole biasmo a torto e mala voce. 101 102 APPENDIX. Ma ella s' e beata, e cio non ode : Con 1' altre prime creature lieta Volve sua spera, e beata si gode. And this is she icho, though reviled much (Upon her laying shame and evil voice?) By those e'en whom, of all, her love should touch, Is blessed still, and wotteth not of this : With nature 1 s other primal creatures 1 bliss Her sphere revolves, and cannot but re- joice ! Inf. vii. 91-96. THE CROSS. Qui vince la memoria mia lo ingegno ; Che in quella croce lampeggiava Cristo, Si ch' io non so trovare esemplo degno Ma chi prende sua croce e segue Cristo, Ancor mi scusera di quel ch' io lasso, Veggendo in quell' albor balenar Cristo. Di corno in corno, e tra la cima e il basso, Si movean lumi, scintillando forte Nel congiungersi insieme e nel trapasso. Cosi si veggion qui diritte e torte, Veloci e tarde, rinnovando vista, Le minuzie de' corpi, lunghe e corte, APPENDIX. 103 Movers! per lo raggio, onde si lista Tal volta 1' oinbra, che per sua difesa La gente con ingegno ed arte acquista. E come giga ed arpa in tempra tesa Di molte corde fan dolce tintinno A tal da cui la nota non e intesa ; Cosi da' lumi che li m' apparinno S' accogliea per la croce una melode, Che mi rapiva senza intender 1' inno. Ben m' accors' io ch' ell' era d' alte lode, Perocche a me venia Risurgi e vinci, Com' a colui che non intende, e ode. Par. xiv. 103-126. Here memory mocks the toil of genius. Christ Beamed on that Cross and pattern fails me notv, But ivhoso takes his cross, andfolloics Christ, Will pardon me for that I leave untold, When in the fleckered dawning he shall spy The glitterance of Christ. From horn to horn And 'tween the summit and the base, did move Lights, scintillating, as they met and pass' d. That oft are seen, with ever-changeful glance, Straight or athwart, now rapid and noto slow, The atomies of bodies, long or short, To move along the sunbeam, ichose slant line 104 APPENDIX. Checkers the shadotv interposed by art Against the noontide heat. And as the chime Of minstrel music, dulcimer, and harp With many strings, a pleasant dinning makes To him who heareth not the distinct note ; So from the lights, ichich there appeared to me, Gathered along the cross a melody, That, indistinctly heard, with ravishment Possessed me. Yet I marked it ivas a hymn Of lofty praises ; for there came to me " Arise" and " Conquer," as to one wlio hears And comprehends not. (Gary's translation.} FAITH. Ed io rispondo : Credo in uuo Dio Solo ed eterno, che tutto il ciel move, Non moto, con amore e con disio ; E a tal creder non ho io pur prove Fisice e metafisice, ma dalmi Ancke la verita che quinci piove Per Moise, per profeti, e per salmi, Per 1' evangelio, e per voi che scriveste, Poiche 1' ardente Spirto vi fece almi ; APPENDIX. 105 E credo in tre persone eterne, e queste Credo una essenzia si una e si trina, Che soffera conginnto sunt et este. Par. xxiv. 130-141. And I reply : I in one God believe / One sole eternal Godhead, of ichose love All heaven is moved, himself unmoved the while. Nor demonstration physical alone, Or more intelligential and abstruse, Persuades me to this faith: but from that truth It cometh to me rather, ivhich is shed Through Moses ; the, rapt Prophets ; and the Psalms ; The Gospel and what ye yourselves did write, When ye were gifted of the Holy Ghost. In three eternal Persons I believe ; Essence threefold and one mysterious league Of union absolute. (Gary's translation.} HOPE. Speme diss' io e uno attender certo Delia gloria futura, il qual produce Grazia divina e precedente merto. I io6 APPENDIX. Da molte stelle mi vien questa luce ; Ma quei la distillo nel mio cor pria, Che fu sommo cantor del sommo duce. Sperino in te, nell' alta Teodia Dice, color che sanno il nome tuo : E chi nol sa, s' egli ha la fede mia ? Tu mi stillasti con lo stillar suo Nella pistola poi, si ch'io son pieno, E in altrui vostra pioggia repluo. Par. xxv. 67-73. " Hope," said I, u Is of the joy to come a sure expectance, The effect of grace Divine and merit preceding. This light from many a star, visits my heart ; Butfloitfd to me, the first, from him ivho sang The song of the Supreme himself supreme Among his tuneful brethren. l Let all hope In thee,' so spake his anthem, ' icho hath known Thy name '/ and, ivith my faith, who know not that f From thee, the next, distilling from his spring, In thine epistle, fell on me the drops So plenteously, that I on others shower The influence of their deic" (Gary's translation.) APPENDIX, 107 LOVE. Lo Ben, che fa contenta questa Corte, Alfa ed Omega e di quanta scrittura Mi legge amore o lievemente o forte. In this palace is the iceal, That Alpha and Omega is, to all The lessons love can read me. Che il bene, in quanto ben, come s' intende, Cosi accende amore, e tanto maggio, Quanto piu di bontate in se comprende. Good, inasmuch as we perceive the good, Kindles our love / and in degree the more, As it comprises more of goodness in '. Tutti quei morsi, Che posson far lo cuor volger a Dio, Alia mia caritate son concorsi ; Che 1' essere del mondo, e 1' esser mio, La morte ch' el sostenne perch' io viva, E quel che spera ogni fedel, com' io, io8 APPENDIX. . } Con la predetta conoscenza viva, Tratto m'hanno del mar dell' amor torto, E del diritto m' ban posto alia riva. Par. xxvi. All grappling bonds, that knit the heart to God, Confederate to make fast our charity. The being of the icorld and mine oim being ; The death tchich He endured, that I should I in' ; And that, which all the faithful hope, as I do ; To the forementioned lively knoiclcdge joined ; Have from the sea of ill love saved my bark, And on the coast secured it of the right. (Cary's translation.) Lastly, in the next canto, Dante has given us the serene vision of Paradise in one matchless line : Cio ch'io vedeva, mi sembrava un riso Dell' universe. And all I saiv, seemed gathered up In one World-Smile ! Par. xxvii. 4, Eutler & Tanner, The Selwood Printing \Vurks, Frome, aud Loudon. - THE LIBRARY UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA Santa Barbara THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE STAMPED BELOW.