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第5章

beacon lights of history-iii-2-第5章

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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

form or other; to a gre

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