beacon lights of history-iii-2- 第4部分

but　it　is　invested　with　dignity　to　one　who　meditates　on　the

mysteries　of　the　soul；　the　wonders　of　our　higher　nature；one　of

the　things　which　arrest　the　attention　of　philosophers。



It　is　recorded　and　attested；　even　by　Dante　himself；　that　at　the

early　age　of　nine　he　fell　in　love　with　Beatrice；a　little　girl　of

one　of　his　neighbors；and　that　he　wrote　to　her　sonnets　as　the

mistress　of　his　devotion。　　How　could　he　have　written　sonnets

without　an　inspiration；　unless　he　felt　sentiments　higher　than　we

associate　with　either　boys　or　girls？　　The　boy　was　father　of　the

man。　　〃She　appeared　to　me；〃　says　the　poet；　〃at　a　festival；　dressed

in　that　most　noble　and　honorable　color；　scarlet；girded　and

ornamented　in　a　manner　suitable　to　her　age；　and　from　that　moment

love　ruled　my　soul。　　And　after　many　days　had　passed；　it　happened

that；　passing　through　the　street；　she　turned　her　eyes　to　the　spot

where　I　stood；　and　with　ineffable　courtesy　she　greeted　me；　and　this

had　such　an　effect　on　me　that　it　seemed　I　had　reached　the　furthest

limit　of　blessedness。　　I　took　refuge　in　the　solitude　of　my　chamber；

and；　thinking　over　what　had　happened　to　me；　I　proposed　to　write　a

sonnet；　since　I　had　already　acquired　the　art　of　putting　words　into

rhyme。〃　　This；　from　his　〃Vita　Nuova；〃　his　first　work；　relating　to

the　〃new　life〃　which　this　love　awoke　in　his　young　soul。



Thus；　according　to　Dante's　own　statement；　was　the　seed　of　a　never…

ending　passion　planted　in　his　soul；the　small　beginning；　so

insignificant　to　cynical　eyes；　that　it　would　almost　seem

preposterous　to　allude　to　it；　as　if　this　fancy　for　a　little　girl　in

scarlet；　and　in　a　boy　but　nine　years　of　age；　could　ripen　into

anything　worthy　to　be　soberly　mentioned　by　a　grave　and　earnest

poet；　in　the　full　maturity　of　his　genius；worthy　to　give　direction

to　his　lofty　intellect；　worthy　to　be　the　occasion　of　the　greatest

poem　the　world　has　seen　from　Homer　to　modern　times。　　Absurd！

ridiculous！　　Great　rivers　cannot　rise　from　such　a　spring；　tall

trees　cannot　grow　from　such　a　little　acorn。　　Thus　reasons　the　man

who　does　not　take　cognizance　of　the　mighty　mysteries　of　human　life。

If　anything　tempted　the　boy　to　write　sonnets　to　a　little　girl；　it

must　have　been　the　chivalric　element　in　society　at　that　period；

when　even　boys　were　required　to　choose　objects　of　devotion；　and　to

whom　they　were　to　be　loyal；　and　whose　honor　they　were　bound　to

defend。　　But　the　grave　poet；　in　the　decline　of　his　life；　makes　this

simple　confession；　as　the　beginning　of　that　sentiment　which　never

afterwards　departed　from　him；　and　which　inspired　him　to　his

grandest　efforts。



But　this　youthful　attachment　was　unfortunate。　　Beatrice　did　not

return　his　passion；　and　had　no　conception　of　its　force；　and　perhaps

was　not　even　worthy　to　call　it　forth。　　She　may　have　been　beautiful；

she　may　have　been　gifted；　she　may　have　been　commonplace。　　It

matters　little　whether　she　was　intellectual　or　not；　beautiful　or

not。　　It　was　not　the　flesh　and　blood　he　saw；　but　the　image　of

beauty　and　loveliness　which　his　own　mind　created。　　He　idealized　the

girl；　she　was　to　him　all　that　he　fancied。　　But　she　never　encouraged

him；　she　denied　his　greetings；　and　even　avoided　his　society。　　At

last　she　died；　when　he　was　twenty…seven；　and　left　himto　use　his

own　expression〃to　ruminate　on　death；　and　envy　whomsoever　dies。〃

To　console　himself；　he　read　Boethius；　and　religious　philosophy　was

ever　afterwards　his　favorite　study。　　Nor　did　serenity　come；　so　deep

were　his　sentiments；　so　powerful　was　his　imagination；　until　he　had

formed　an　exalted　purpose　to　write　a　poem　in　her　honor；　and　worthy

of　his　love。　　〃If　it　please　Him　through　whom　all　things　come；〃　said

Dante；　〃that　my　life　be　spared；　I　hope　to　tell　such　things　of　her

as　never　before　have　been　seen　by　any　one。〃



Now　what　inspired　so　strange　a　purpose？　　Was　it　a　Platonic

sentiment；　like　the　love　of　Petrarch　for　Laura；　or　something　that

we　cannot　explain；　and　yet　real；a　mystery　of　the　soul　in　its

deepest　cravings　and　aspirations？　　And　is　love；　among　mortals

generally；　based　on　such　a　foundation？　　Is　it　flesh　and　blood　we

love；　is　it　the　intellect；　is　it　the　character；　is　it　the　soul；　is

it　what　is　inherently　interesting　in　woman；　and　which　everybody　can

see；the　real　virtues　of　the　heart　and　charms　of　physical　beauty？

Or　is　it　what　we　fancy　in　the　object　of　our　adoration；　what　exists

already　in　our　own　minds；the　archetypes　of　eternal　ideas　of

beauty　and　grace？　　And　do　all　men　worship　these　forms　of　beauty

which　the　imagination　creates？　　Can　any　woman；　or　any　man；　seen

exactly　as　they　are；　incite　a　love　which　is　kindred　to　worship？

And　is　any　love　worthy　to　be　called　love；　if　it　does　not　inspire

emotions　which　prompt　to　self…sacrifice；　labor；　and　lofty　ends？

Can　a　woman's　smiles　incite　to　Herculean　energies；　and　drive　the

willing　worshipper　to　Aonian　heights；　unless　under　these　smiles　are

seen　the　light　of　life　and　the　blessedness　of　supernatural　fervor？

Is　there；　and　can　there　be；　a　perpetuity　in　mortal　charms　without

the　recognition　or　the　supposition　of　a　moral　beauty　connected　with

them；　which　alone　is　pure　and　imperishable；　and　which　alone　creates

the　sacred　ecstasy　that　revels　in　the　enjoyment　of　what　is　divine；

or　what　is　supposed　to　be　divine；　not　in　man；　but　in　the

conceptions　of　man；the　ever…blazing　glories　of　goodness　or　of

truth　which　the　excited　soul　doth　see　in　the　eyes　and　expression　of

the　adored　image？　　It　is　these　archetypes　of　divinity；　real　or

fancied；　which　give　to　love　all　that　is　enduring。　　Destroy　these；

take　away　the　real　or　fancied　glories　of　the　soul　and　mind；　and　the

holy　flame　soon　burns　out。　　No　mortal　love　can　last；　no　mortal　love

is　beautiful；　unless　the　visions　which　the　mind　creates　are　not

more　or　less　realized　in　the　object　of　it；　or　when　a　person；　either

man　or　woman；　is　not　capable　of　seeing　ideal　perfections。　　The

loves　of　savages　are　the　loves　of　brutes。　　The　more　exalted　the

character　and　the　soul；　the　greater　is　the　capacity　of　love；　and

the　deeper　its　fervor。　　It　is　not　the　object　of　love　which　creates

this　fervor；　but　the　mind　which　is　capable　of　investing　it　with

glories。　　There　could　not　have　been　such　intensity　in　Dante's　love

had　he　not　been　gifted　with　the　power　of　creating　so　lofty　and

beautiful　an　ideal；　and　it　was　this　he　worshipped；not　the　real

Beatrice；　but　the　angelic　beauty　he　thought　he　saw　in　her。　　Why

could　he　not　see　the　perfections　he　adored　shining　in　other　women；

who　perhaps　had　a　higher　claim　to　them？　　Ah；　that　is　the　mystery！

And　you　cannot　solve　it　any　easier　than　you　can　tell　why　a　flower

blooms　or　a　seed　germinates。　　And　why　was　it　that　Dante；　with　his

great　experience；　could　in　later　life　see　the　qualities　he　adored

in　no　other　woman　than　in　the　cold　and　unappreciative　girl　who

avoided　him？　　Suppose　she　had　become　his　wife；　might　he　not　have

been　disenchanted；　and　his　veneration　been　succeeded　by　a　bitter

disappointment？　　Yet；　while　the　delusion　lasted；　no　other　woman

could　have　filled　her　place；　in　no　other　woman　could　he　have　seen

such　charms；　no　other　love　could　have　inspired　his　soul　to　make

such　labors。



I　would　not　be　understood　as　declaring　that　married　love　must　be

necessarily　a　disenchantment。　　I　would　not　thus　libel　humanity；　and

insult　plain　reason　and　experience。　　Many　loves　ARE　happy；　and　burn

brighter　and　brighter　to　the　end；　but　it　is　because　there　are　many

who　are　worthy　of　them；　both　men　and　women；because　the　ideal；

which　the　mind　created；　IS　realized　to　a　greater　or　less　degree；

although　the　loftier　the　archetype；　the　less　seldom　is　it　found。

Nor　is　it　necessary　that　perfection　should　be　found。　　A　person　may

have　faults　which　alienate　and　disenchant；　but　with　these　there　may

be　virtues　so　radiant　that　the　worship；　though　imperfect；　remains；

a　respect；　on　the　whole；　so　great　that　the　soul　is　lifted　to

admiration。　　Who　can　love　this　perishable　form；　unless　one　sees　in

it　some　traits　which　belong　to　superior　and　immortal　natures？　　And

hence　the　sentiment；　when　pure；　creates　a　sort　of　companionship　of

beings　robed　in　celestial　light　and　exorcises　those　degrading

passions　which　belong　to　earth。　　But　Dante　saw　no　imperfections　in

Beatrice：　perhaps　he　had　no　opportunity　to　see　them。　　His　own　soul

was　so　filled　with　love；　his　mind　soared　to　such　exalted　regions　of

adoration；　that　when　she　passed　away　he　saw　her　only　in　the

beatified　state；　in　company　with　saints　and　angels；　and　he　was

wrapped　in　ecstasies　which　knew　no　end；the　unbroken　adoration　of

beauty；　grace；　and　truth；　even　of　those　eternal　ideas　on　which

Plato　based　all　that　is　certain；　and　all　that　is　worth　living　for；

that　sublime　realism　without　which　life　is　a　failure；　and　this

world　is　〃a　mockery；　a　delusion；　and　a　snare。〃



This　is　the　history　and　exposition　of　that　love　for　Beatrice　with

which　the　whole　spiritual　life　of　Dante　is　identified；　and　without

which　the　〃Divine　Comedy〃　might　not　have　been　written。　　I　may　have

given　to　it　disproportionate　attention；　and　it　is　true　I　might　have

allegorized　it；　and　for　love　of　a　woman　I　might　have　substituted

love　for　an　art；even　the　art　of　poetry；　in　which　his　soul

doubtless　lived；　even　as　Michael　Angelo；　his　greatest　fellow…

countryman；　lived　in　the　adoration　of　beauty；　grace；　and　majesty。

Oh；　happy　and　favored　is　the　person　who　lives　in　the　enjoyment　of

an　art！　　It　may　be　humble；　it　may　be　grand。　　It　may　be　music；　it

may　be　painting；　or　sculpture；　or　architecture；　or　poetry；　or

oratory；　or　landscape　gardening；　yea；　even　farming；　or　needle…work；

or　house　decoration；anything　which　employs　the　higher　faculties

of　the　mind；　and　brings　order　out　of　confusion；　and　takes　one　from

himself；　from　the　drudgery　of　mechanical　labors；　even　if　it　be　no

higher　than　carving　a　mantelpiece　or　making　a　savory　dish；　for　all

these　things　imply　creation；　alike　the　test　and　the　reward　of

genius　itself；　which　almost　every　human　being　possesses；　in　some