The Catholic World
Chapter 38 : My tale is ended, except to say that, from that evening, Mouton has been my inseparable

My tale is ended, except to say that, from that evening, Mouton has been my inseparable companion. He is by no means, however, as complaisant to me as he was to his mistress; on the contrary, Mouton, like many other _nouveaux riches_, is rather a spoiled dog, and the tyrant of my small household. Jean became a basket-maker, and it is not improbable that my fair readers may have in their possession some of the productions of his skilful fingers. Such was the fruit of my Christmas-eve in Paris six years ago. I have never spent one there since.

Translated from Der Katholik.

DANTE'S DIVINA COMMEDIA.

There is none of the Christian poets who has exercised so great an influence in the intellectual world as Dante Alighieri. His "Vision of h.e.l.l, Purgatory, and Paradise" has been, ever since its appearance, a mine in which artists, poets, philosophers, theologians, historians, and statesmen have found treasures. In Italy, immediately after his death, professors were appointed in the universities to explain his work, and numbers of both lay and clerical savants, among them even princes, bishops, and archbishops, took delight in its study and exposition. With the spread of the Italian language, on which Dante has stamped for ever the impress of his genius, and with the progress of Italian culture, all Europe became acquainted with the Commedia, and learned to admire its beauty and its grandeur. It was translated into other tongues; learned foreigners undertook to fathom its depths; and even the spirit of religious unity in the sixteenth century did not check its influence over the Roman-Germanic nations. Protestant translators and expositors contended with the Catholic writers who made of the work of Dante a special study. The Germans especially have {269} not been backward in this respect, and to prove it we need only name Kannegieser, Strecksufs, Kofisch, Witte, Wegele, and Philalethes (the present king of Saxony).

When we wish to a.s.sign Dante his proper place in Christian art and poetry, by comparison with antiquity, we are reminded at once of Homer and the veneration in which he was held by the Greeks. But how has the Florentine poet merited such high consideration? Is it by the might of his genius and the peculiarity of his chosen theme? By the perfection and the poetic charm of his expression and language? By his deep knowledge of life and of human nature? By the philosophic and moral truths which he has woven into his poem? By his religious and political views? Or by his judgment of historical personages and facts?

No doubt all these have been helping causes to establish Dante's fame and give him the position which he holds. But the true reason of all the singular prerogatives of the poet and of the poem, the reason which gives us the key to the right understanding of the "Divine Comedy," and of the various and discrepant explanations of it, must be sought deeper. There is a princ.i.p.al cause of Dante's greatness, from which the secondary causes, just named, diverge, as rays of light from a common centre, and to the knowledge of which only a philosophical comprehension of history, and especially of poetry, can lead us. We shall endeavor in this essay to discover this cause, after having given a brief sketch of the contents and the scope of the great poem.

I.

The _Commedia_, which, in the form of a vision, paints the condition of the soul after death, is divided into three parts, h.e.l.l, Purgatory, and Paradise. Each part consists of thirty-three cantos, which, with the introductory canto, make the round number one hundred. Surrounded by trials and troubles of various kinds, Dante is guided into the regions of the invisible by his favorite poet Virgil, who comes to his a.s.sistance. Virgil here represents poetry and the idea of the poem. It was through him that Dante was first led to the serious study of truth, and to direct his mind to the philosophical consideration of the condition of mankind.

Our poet now proceeds into the realm of the d.a.m.ned souls, into the regions of night and h.e.l.l, which he represents in the form of a funnel having nine gradually narrowing eddies, in which the souls of the d.a.m.ned are revolving to the throne of Satan, who sits at the top of the cone. The narrower grow the circles, the more intense become the punishments inflicted, in proportion to the increasing guilt of the culprits. The lowest place among the lost souls is occupied by the traitors, Brutus, Ca.s.sius, and Judas.

The power of the devil over men, and the inexorable character of the Christian idea of retributive justice, is grandly portrayed in this part of the work, by interweaving the most moving and striking episodes, in which well-known characters are described as receiving punishment equal to their crimes. Even paganism is made to lend its graces to increase the sublimity of the picture, and clothe the thoughts of the writer in poetic garments.

Both poets then leave the darkness and horror of h.e.l.l behind them, and approach the regions of purification or purgatory, over which perpetual twilight reigns. This realm of temporary suffering is supposed by the poet to be on the opposite side of the earth, where the antipodes dwell. This abode of those souls who are being purified and doing penance for minor offences, and whose pains are lessened by the hope of future happiness, is represented in the form of a mountain, to whose summit one ascends by nine successive degrees, as the descent through the {270} funnel of h.e.l.l was by nine lessening circles. At the top of the mountain is placed that earthly paradise which was lost by the sins of our first parents, and from which the way to heaven leads. Having arrived in the terrestrial paradise, Dante suddenly finds himself deserted by Virgil, who from the beginning had promised to guide him only so far. But Beatrice meets our poet here, Beatrice the beloved of his youth. She teaches him the science of G.o.d, and, aided by the light of faith and revelation, which Virgil had not, she shows him the higher knowledge given to human reason under the influence of Christianity. At her voice and teaching, Dante is moved to repentance for his transgressions, and she becomes his future guide.

Dante paints in the most lively colors, and describes with the greatest beauty, in episodes and conversations, the intimate relation of the souls in purgatory with each other, and with those they left behind them on earth, and with the blessed in heaven. This latter point is ill.u.s.trated by the frequent appearance of angels, who descend from time to time into the dusky realms of purgatory.

Led by his beloved Beatrice, our poet now mounts to heaven, and traverses its various spheres, which are represented according to the system of Ptolemy. Beginning by the moon, the poet travels through Mercury, Venus, the Sun, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn, the glory and happiness of the beatified increasing as he advances, in proportion with their virtues and holiness, till he arrives at the so-called Empyrean, at the very throne of G.o.d. In the highest sphere Dante beholds the mystical rose, that is, the glory of the Blessed Virgin, who is surrounded by the highest saints and angels in the form of a rose; and among these glorified spirits he sees with delight his Beatrice near the Mother of G.o.d, who gives an honorable place to those who had been her fervent followers during life. The Vision of Heaven ends by a glance at the mysteries of the Holy Trinity and the Incarnation, which mortal eye, though supernaturally strengthened, is unable to dwell upon for excess of light.

Dante in this part of his work treats the most difficult questions, not only of philosophy, which he had also done in the preceding cantos, but also of theology, with the greatest clearness, depth, and poetic grace. He treats in it of the fundamental ideas of Christianity, of faith, hope, and charity. The spirits that he represents to the reader in h.e.l.l, purgatory, and paradise are by no means the mere wilful creations of his fancy, but for the most part are historical characters, some of them but little removed from his own time, others contemporary; and even those which he borrows from Judaism or paganism to embellish his poem are symbolical, and have an intimate connection with some reality. On this very account we should not judge the Vision as an allegory, although in many respects it has the peculiarities of an allegorical poem. It is, rather, a mystic poem, in which the deepest religious and philosophical truths are represented under the shadow of visionary forms and ethereal similitudes; and realities are raised to an ideal sphere, where the mind's eye can penetrate through their misty covering and contemplate them to satiety. But what is the cause of the great influence which this poem has exerted on mankind? This is the question which we have undertaken to answer, and which we shall now endeavor to solve.

II.

As in the history of nations and of mankind there are certain epochs in which the elements that had formed the groundwork of society, and of national life, in their gradual development, culminate in a certain point, where the mental powers of the people put forth all their strength in the production of facts, or works of various kinds that give expression to the spirit {271} of the age; so in the history of poetry there are poets and poems in which the ruling ideas of their time and nation appear in all their truth and power.

In the works of great poets we have, as it were, a copy of G.o.d's creative power. He seems to lend it to the poet. Of all the productions of the human mind, the poem has the greatest similarity with the works of Almighty power, and both offer to human contemplation beauties ever varying and ever new. But between the works of divine and of human skill there is an essential difference.

The works of G.o.d express the thoughts of the Creator, whose glory and invisibility, according to the Psalmist, the heavens declare, and whose eternal might and divinity creatures proclaim; but with the effects of human genius it is entirely different.

Every individual is but a member of the great whole, which we call the human family; he can do nothing alone, but depends on others both for his material and spiritual support; and the degree of culture which he attains, the aim which he proposes to himself in life, and the germ of his future progress, are as much the result of the influences exercised on him from the cradle to the grave, by the family circle, by the school, and by the a.s.sociations of society, as they are the effects of his own independent strength and originality. Hence the work of the poet, no matter how great he may be, is not to be considered the exclusive product of the individual, for it must bear on it the stamp of his education, and of the people among whom he dwells, and of the age in which he lives. As the waters of a lake do not merely reflect their own color, but also the green sh.o.r.e of the surrounding woods and hills, the pa.s.sing clouds, the deep blue of the heavens above, and of the stars that glitter in it; so in the poem we see not only the soul of its creator, but every great emotion that swelled in the breast of the men of his age and nation. In a word, we see the whole circle of contemporary ideas more or less vividly expressed in it. Nor are the productions of human genius lessened by this fact; they are, on the contrary, enhanced in value. For it is no longer one person, with his subjective views of his own world and life, who speaks to us in them, but it is the spirit of a portion of mankind, expressing to us the ideas of a certain stage in the progress of civilization.

Now, if such a work of genius be at the same time the foundation of a further development in the future, and of such a character that it represents the condition not only of one nation, but of several; and if the ideas which it contains and which sway men be such as by their truth and universality overleap the limits of time and s.p.a.ce; then such a power will maintain its hold upon the admiration and esteem of men, not only in a certain epoch and among a certain people, but for ever and among all nations where the same order of civilization reigns. Poets who are distinguished above others by the creative power and superiority of their genius in the production of such a work, are not merely the poets of one age, or of one nation, but they belong to all times and to all nations. They will not be merely read once, and then thrown aside; but they will be reperused and studied with ever increasing pleasure.

The age of Dante was an epoch of this character among the Christian nations. He has hardly his superior as a poet, either among the ancients or the moderns. Hence, if we contemplate the _Commedia_ from this point of view, we shall be able not only to understand the general scope of the work, but even to comprehend with ease all its details and peculiarities.

But in order to show that the period at which Dante appeared (the second half of the thirteenth and the beginning of the fourteenth century) was one like that which we have described, we must briefly recall to mind the condition of the Church, of the state of science and art, and give {272} expression to the spirit of the age in a scientific formula.

If we then look at the Church, we find her displaying such fecundity and power as we shall hardly find at any other period in her history.

She is not only busy in the work of converting the still pagan nations of Europe, especially in the north, and strengthening the faith among believers by missions, voyages, and diplomacy; by the foundation of new congregations and bishoprics; by councils; by stringency of external discipline, and greater solemnity in the public wors.h.i.+p; but also by the internal reformation effected by such men as popes Alexander III., Innocent III., and Innocent IV., who continued the good work begun by Gregory VII., of freeing the Church from the oppressions of secular power. They succeeded at length in propagating and realizing among the Christian nations of the West the idea of one vast spiritual community, under the heads.h.i.+p of one spiritual ruler, who, instead of destroying national diversity and independence, protected and favored them. This idea prevailed through the agency of the supreme pontiffs over the pagan idea so cherished by the emperors of a universal monarchy. The crusades, too, fostered and led by the Church, and which are the clearest expression of the thoroughly Christian spirit of those centuries, bring the West into closer intimacy with the East, and enrich the former with all the material and spiritual treasures of the latter. Then arise those great orders which--half religious and half secular, as the Knights Hospitallers and the Templars, or entirely religious, like the Dominicans and Franciscans--defended the Church, cared for the sick and the poor, sacrificed themselves in spreading Christian faith and morality, and gave birth to countless inst.i.tutions of charity.

If we now glance at the political condition of the people, a spectacle equally grand as that just described offers itself to our view. On the imperial throne of Germany appear those powerful princes of the house of Hohenstaufen, who contended so heroically with the papacy for the success of the Ghibelline idea of a universal monarchy, but who in the end were worsted in the fight; while in France a St. Louis IX., and in England a Richard the Lion-hearted, excite the admiration of the world. In Italy, even in the midst of the struggle between the secular and the spiritual powers, and between the Guelphs and Ghibellines, mighty republics spring up under the protection of the Church; and in the other nations also we see a powerful effort for national independence and freedom appearing in the many guilds, corporations, free cities, states, and parliaments which were everywhere rising into a dignified existence. But above all, the order of chivalry in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries--an order which even yet throws such a halo of poetry and romance around the middle ages in which it nourished, walking hand in hand with religion, which had consecrated it--helped much to civilize the barbarian character of the age, and improve the moral condition of society.

As to science in the epoch of which we write, it was mostly occupied in the investigation of those subjects which lay next the Christian heart of the people; namely, in theology, philosophy, and ethics. And how great has been its success! What great results has not mediaeval science effected! I need only mention the immortal names of Anselem of Canterbury, of St. Bernard, Albert the Great, Thomas Aquinas, Bonaventure, Roger Bacon, and Vincent of Beauvais; men whose works in theology, philosophy, history, and in the natural sciences, remain to the present time as monuments of genius, hardly equalled by ancient or modern productions.

At this period, too, sprang up the universities, which realize in their conception the universal idea of catholicity. They were founded in every land, and all the sciences were taught in {273} them. The Church herself, in the Council of Vienne, in 1311, decreed that, beside the chairs of theology, philosophy, medicine, and jurisprudence, there should be in the four princ.i.p.al universities, and wherever the papal court should be held, professors of Hebrew, Chaldaic, Arabic, and Greek. But what especially shows the intellectual bent of this age is the zeal and youthful ardor manifested in every rank for all the different branches of science.

Popes, emperors, kings, and n.o.bles emulated each other in this respect, and consecrated their energies to the furtherance of learning.

If we now turn to the state of art and poetry, on every side the old cathedrals and monuments erected in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries meet our eyes, and in their various styles of Gothic and Roman architecture excite our admiration, fill us with holy awe, and, as they lift their spires to heaven, speak more eloquently of the greatness of the spirit and aesthetic feeling of the people than any words of ours could do. In the suite of architecture the other arts followed and were elevated to its height; and even before Dante, and contemporaneously with him, lived the founders of the Italian schools of painting and sculpture, which so soon after attained to such perfection. As for poetry, we need only remember that at this time most of the modern languages began to be developed and become the mediums of literature. "It was the gay time of the troubadours and incense-singers," says Vilmar, in his History of German National Literature, "in which the melody of song rang out from hamlet to hamlet, from city to city, from castle to castle, and court to court, and a thousand harmonious echoes, near and far, from hill and valley, answered out of the people's heart." It was the first cla.s.sic period of German literature, in which the national and artistic epic appear well developed in such works as the _Nibelungen, Gudrun, Parceval_, and others.

No doubt there are shadows on the picture of the age just described, as there are in our own. But still, whoever considers the facts we have alleged, cannot fail to admit the age as a real epoch in the history of the Christian world, unless he is blind or wilfully shuts his eyes to the light. In view of these facts, also, he must perceive that the civilization of the various western nations was most intimately connected; that it rested on the same common foundation; and that the ideas which ruled them and const.i.tuted their vital principle were eternally and universally true, and became the platform of succeeding intellectual evolution. Hence, those nations, though differing in origin and political independence, made but one grand spiritual community, bound together by a common faith and a common church. But if we would now express the spirit of this epoch in a philosophical formula, we should say that it was the period in which the Roman and Germanic races were converted to Christianity after the decease of the old world and of pagan civilization; and after these races had become a spiritual community under the hierarchy of the popes, and become bound together under the government of one worldly empire, after various combats with outward enemies and triumphs over internal elements of discord; when these races had appropriated to themselves Christianity as their vital element, and recognized it as the power which moved and governed the world, and sought to produce, realize, and use Christian ideas in every direction, in the sciences, in arts, in society, in the state, and in the Church. The Protestant, Vilmar, whom we have already cited, agrees with this a.s.sertion, when he writes: "It was the spirit of Christianity which had become the spirit of the western nations, and which inspired, in the highest degree, the higher ranks of society, the n.o.bility, and the clergy; and which penetrated into the ma.s.ses, not so much as a theory, but as a fact--not as a science, but as an element of their life; it was Christianity, not as a simple doctrine or idea, but as a practical {274} boon and benefit; it was a joy to the Christian Church and to its internal and external glory, and a blessing with its gifts, more general than it has been since, and so strong that even the struggle between the popes and the emperors, for over two centuries, could not affect the great happiness of men whose social and individual existence was actuated by the spirit of Christianity."

III.

Taking, therefore, this comprehensive view of the state of society; considering the triumph of the Christian idea in history, the consciousness of Christianity as the principle of life in the newly-organized world, and the struggle of this element to mould and fas.h.i.+on everything according to its nature, we may easily answer the question as to the character of a poem which should thoroughly express the spirit of the age. It would not be hard to show that the Divine Comedy of Dante derived its matter, its form, its name, and its sentiment from the peculiar condition of the epoch. In fact, any poem that represents, the conquest of the Christian idea in all conditions of private and public life must ever exercise great influence over men. But in order to give a poetical representation of this thought, the poet should choose a framework sufficiently large to contain the vast picture in which G.o.d and man, heaven and earth, nature and grace, creation and redemption, past, present, and future, science and life, church and state, appear; and such a framework was offered to him in the Christian idea of the judgment, of G.o.d, and of the existence of the other world, in its three divisions of h.e.l.l, purgatory, and paradise.

Now, only by carrying up ordinary facts to this higher, ideal sphere was it possible to overleap the limits of time and s.p.a.ce, and give greater unity to the picture, and make it a masterpiece. But he who lives here below is ignorant of the future, and of the condition of the departed souls. Only by a supernatural revelation can we know their lot. Consequently, the form of a wonderful vision, in which the poet enters into communion with the spirits of the dead, and wanders through their regions, is the most natural manner of representing his idea in the poem; consequently, it should be called by right a "divine drama," a _Divina Commedia_, as the most appropriate t.i.tle.

The true scope of the poem, therefore, must not be sought for either in a purely religious, or a purely political, or a purely scientific or personal point of view; but in the prosecution of a far more general, comprehensive, higher, philosophic, theological, and particularly moral or ethical object, to which all the details of the work are subordinated. Hence, he who examines these details from this or that stand-point may give them the most different explanations, as in fact many commentators of the poem do--not having fathomed its depths and perceived the general object of the sacred epic.

Dante himself leaves us no reason to doubt on this point. In his dedicatory epistle to Cardinal Grande della Scala, he speaks thus: "The meaning of this poem is not simple, but multiple. The first sense is in the words, the second in the things expressed: the one is called literal, the other moral or allegorical. Taken literally, the whole work is simple, and expresses the condition of souls after death, for this is expressed by the whole tenor of the poem. But taken in the higher sense, its object is man, either deserving rewards or chastis.e.m.e.nts through the exercise of his free will. And if we wish to name the kind of philosophy contained in the work, we must call it moral, or ethics. For the whole tends to practice and action, and is not content with simple contemplation and speculation."

Giacomo di Dante, the son of the poet, develops more clearly the scope of the work, in the preface to his {275} commentary. "The whole work,"

says he, "is divided into three parts; the first of which treats of h.e.l.l, the second of purgatory, and the third of paradise. In order to understand the general allegorical bearing, I say that the object of the poet is to represent to us in figurative language the three several divisions of mankind. The first part considers vice in man, and is called h.e.l.l, to show us that mortal sin by its depth of iniquity is directly opposed to the sublimity of virtue. The second contemplates those who detach themselves from vice and strive after virtue. His place for such persons he calls purgatory, or place of purification, to show the condition of the soul, which cleanses itself from its sins in time, for time is the medium in which all changes happen. The third considers perfect man, and is called paradise, in order to express the greatness of its bliss, and the elevation of mind connected with it; two things without which a knowledge of the supreme good cannot be attained. And thus the poet pursues his object through the three several parts of his poem by means of the figures and representations with which he surrounds himself."

But the poet, in order to realize his grand idea, should be gifted not only with the highest poetical genius in order to represent the philosophical principles of Christianity in the peculiar characters and types of Christian art, and give them a new, independent, and majestic appearance; but he should be also possessed, on the one hand, of a clear and perfect knowledge of Christian doctrine and ethics, and a deep and extensive knowledge of philosophy and theology; and, on the other, of a profound and extensive acquaintance with men and human life, as well as with the history of the human race. Both these requisites are found in Dante in the highest degree. Christian faith and morality is as well and correctly explained by him as by the best approved theologians. But this fact will not excite our surprise if we consider that, in his Vision, without however sacrificing his individuality, he adheres strictly to the great doctors of the age, Saints Thomas Aquinas and Bonaventure, as King John of Saxony clearly proves in his commentary on the Divine Comedy.

Hence, at an early period Dante's work became a favorite theme of scholastic study, and under the portal of the cathedral at Florence there is seen an old statue of the poet near that of the patron saint of the city, with this inscription: _Theologus Dante, nullius dogmatis expers_--"Dante the theologian, to whom no dogma was unknown." In the Raphael chamber in the Vatican, he is represented crowned with laurel on the famous painting of the _disputa_, among the popes, bishops, and doctors a.s.sembled round the holy sacrament of the altar.

An occasional writer has suspected the faith of Dante, because in his poem he deplores several abuses in the Church, such as the corruption of some of the clergy and monks, and lashes some of the popes and the relation of the papacy to the secular power in his time. But such a suspicion is unwarranted when we consider that many Catholic reformers, even saints like Peter Damien, Saint Thomas of Canterbury, Saint Bernard, Saint Hildegard, Jacopone, and others, have spoken even more strongly than Dante against abuses; and that he never confounds the use with the abuse, excrescences of an inst.i.tution with the inst.i.tution itself, or persons with principles.

Dante's thorough knowledge of human life and of history is fully shown in his surprising explanations, and by the manner in which with one trait he paints the famous characters and facts in the _Commedia_, as well as by the examples and narrations which he takes from all times, regions, and nations of the earth. But in his judgment of persons and facts in the past and present, Dante is not always impartial or just, for, being {276} subject to human frailties and prejudices, he is often guilty of great injustice to those against whom he had motives of hatred. Consequently, in order to appreciate Dante's poem on this point, we must consider the character of his life and fortunes, as well as the history of his native city and country.

Dante Alighieri was born at Florence in the year 1265, and received in baptism the name of Durante, which was shortened to that of Dante.

Early in his youth an event happened which determined his life, and to which posterity is indebted for his great work. In the year 1274, in the ninth year of his age, Dante saw, at a church festival, the daughter of Falco Portinari, Beatrice, a child eight years old, whom he says, in one of his poems, no one could see without crying out, "This is not a woman, but one of the most beautiful of the heavenly angels!" He conceived for her, on the spot, the most violent pa.s.sion, but, at the same time, one so pure and holy that Beatrice, even on earth and wedded to another, became for him and his muse a perfect ideal that inspired all his first and tenderest poems, and moved him to high and holy thoughts. But after Beatrice's untimely death, she became, in the imagination of the poet, a holy spirit, whose glory he undertook to exalt after a wonderful vision which he had, and who became, in all the sorrows of his life, a star of hope and anchor of safety to him. A few years after the decease of his beloved, Dante espoused Gemma di Donati, a lady of a n.o.ble family in Florence, and through this marriage, as well as by his profound theological and philosophical studies, he was drawn into the vortex of the politics of his native city, in which, after many struggles, the Guelph party gained the ascendency, toward the end of the thirteenth century.

Sprung from a Guelph family and surrounded by Guelph influences, and prominent by his genius in the party, although keeping clear of its excesses, Dante, from 1293 to 1299, filled many posts of honor, especially many places of amba.s.sador, and was elected, with five others, in the year 1300, to the priorate, the highest office in the republic. But soon after his prosperous career was changed to one of misfortune. In 1292 a division was made in the Guelph party, when, under the tribune Giano della Bella, the const.i.tution of the state was changed, the n.o.bles driven from the magistracy, and the government of the city given entirely into the hands of the plebeians; and this division led gradually to an open rupture between the parties called the Blacks and the Whites "_Neri_" and "_Bianchi_." The latter were by far the more moderate, and the Ghibellines, both n.o.bles and plebeians, joined them. Dante belonged to the Whites, who stood at the head of affairs. But by the interference of Charles of Valois, whom the Blacks called to Florence in order to seize the government with his aid, the Whites lost their power, and Dante, who was then on an emba.s.sy to Rome, together with the other chiefs of the party, was exiled by a decree, which was repealed in the year 1302.

This trial was important in two ways to our poet. It excited his hatred against one party of the Guelphs, and then against them all; and evoked his inclination for the Ghibellines and his dislike toward the popes, who gave a.s.sistance to the Guelph party, and finally made him a strong partisan of the Ghibellines and their operations against Florence, and of the empire against the papacy. On the other hand, he became, by his misfortunes, more devoted to virtue, his studies, and his poem, from the prosecution of which he had been distracted by political cares; so that the whole history of his exile is nothing else than the history of his scientific life and the execution of the Divine Comedy. After having wandered from city to city, from country to country, to Verona, Bologna, Padua, Paris, and England, and dwelt for a time in Pisa, and in {277} Lucca at the monastery of Fonteavelluna and in Udine, and after having finished his great works--"The Banquet," "_De Vulgari Eloquio_," "_De Monarchia_"--and the three parts of his great poem, he rested at last in Ravenna, where, in the year 1321, he fell sick and died, in the 56th year of his age, after having received, as Boccacio tells us, the last sacraments with humility and piety, and become reconciled to G.o.d by true repentance for all he had done contrary to his holy will. The poet was buried in the Franciscan church, where his ashes still repose.

This sketch of his life and fortunes gives us the key to the solution of many peculiarities of the Divine Comedy. We can now understand why politics play so conspicuous a _role_ in the great poem, in spite of its higher philosophico-theological and ethical scope; and why some should have considered the work as of a purely political character.

This sketch of his life also shows the partial truth contained in the a.s.sertion of Wegele, a German commentator on Dante. This writer says the leading thought of the poet was to work out his own salvation by considering the state of the world at his time; and in fact Dante found consolation and strength against earthly misfortune, found the way of virtue and eternal salvation, in the execution of his poem. For similar reasons, others considered the poem as purely didactic, and this view has a foundation in the confession of the poet himself.

But above all, the life of Dante explains his ideas about the relations between the papacy and the empire, expressed not only in his book on monarchy, but also in the Divine Comedy; and his strange judgments about persons and circ.u.mstances, especially of his own age.

It is true Dante never for a moment disputes the primacy and divine appointment of the popes in the Church; and even in h.e.l.l he describes those pontiffs whom he condemns to it as having certain distinctions.

He maintains in the clearest manner the freedom and independence of the divine power in regard to the secular, and acknowledges a certain superiority in the former, for he requires that Caesar should have that reverence for Peter which the first-born son should have to his father, so that Caesar, illuminated by the light of paternal grace, might s.h.i.+ne more brilliantly over the earth. But as Dante was possessed with the Ghibelline idea, and as he saw in the temporal power of the popes, who were the head of the Guelph party, the greatest obstacle to the success of his principles, we must not be surprised to find him the enemy of the pope's temporal power, and, in his judgment of men and things, to see him frequently led away by party rage and revenge for injuries received.