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