hat in his
youth he took great pleasure in music, and was the friend of all the
best musicians and singers of his time. There is, perhaps, in the
whole range of literature, no nobler homage to Art than that which is
contained in the tenth and twelfth cantos of the "Purgatory," in which
Dante represents the Creator himself as using its means to impress the
lessons of truth upon those whose souls were being purified for the
final attainment of heaven. The passages are too long for extract, and
though their wonderful beauty tempts us to linger over them, we must
return to the course of the story of Dante's life as it appears in the
concluding pages of the "New Life."

Many months had passed since Beatrice's death, when Dante happened to
be in a place which recalled the past time to him, and filled him with
grief. While standing here, he raised his eyes and saw a young and
beautiful lady looking out from a window compassionately upon his sad
aspect. The tenderness of her look touched his heart and moved his
tears. Many times afterwards he saw her, and her face was always full
of compassion, and pale, so that it reminded him of the look of his own
most noble lady. But at length his eyes began to delight too much in
seeing her; wherefore he often cursed their vanity, and esteemed
himself as vile, and there was a hard battle within himself between the
remembrance of his lady and the new desire of his eyes.

At length, he says, "The sight of this lady brought me into so new
a condition, that I often thought of her as of one who pleased me
exceedingly,--and I thought of her thus: 'This is a gentle, beautiful,
young, and discreet lady, and she has perhaps appeared by will of
Love, in order that my life may find repose.' And often I thought more
amorously, so that my heart consented in it, that is, approved my
reasoning. And after it had thus consented, I, moved as if by reason,
reflected, and said to myself, 'Ah, what thought is this that in so vile
a way seeks to console me, and leaves me scarcely any other thought?'
Then another thought rose up and said, 'Now that thou hast been in so
great tribulation of Love, why wilt thou not withdraw thyself from such
bitterness? Thou seest that this is an inspiration that sets the desires
of Love before thee, and proceeds from a place no less gentle than
the eyes of the lady who has shown herself so pitiful toward thee.'
Wherefore, I, having often thus combated with myself, wished to say