ngels. She already beholds the
face of the Ever-blessed. And the _envoye_ of the _Vita Nuova_ is the
promise of the _Commedia_. "After this sonnet" (in which he describes
how beyond the widest sphere of heaven his love had beheld a lady
receiving honor and dazzling by her glory the unaccustomed
spirit)--"After this sonnet there appeared to me a marvellous vision, in
which I saw things which made me resolve not to speak more of this
blessed one until such time as I should be able to indite more worthily
of her. And to attain to this, I study to the utmost of my power, as she
truly knows. So that it shall be the pleasure of Him, by whom all things
live, that my life continue for some years, I hope to say of her that
which never hath been said of any woman. And afterward, may it please
him, who is the Lord of kindness, that my soul may go to behold the
glory of her lady, that is, of that blessed Beatrice, who gloriously
gazes on the countenance of Him, _qui est per omnia secula benedictus_."
It would be wantonly violating probability and the unity of a great life
to suppose that this purpose, though transformed, was ever forgotten or
laid aside. The poet knew not, indeed, what he was promising, what he
was pledging himself to--through what years of toil and anguish he would
have to seek the light and the power he had asked; in what form his high
venture should be realized.

But the _Commedia_ is the work of no light resolve, and we need not be
surprised at finding the resolve and the purpose at the outset of the
poet's life. We may freely accept the key supplied by the words of the
_Vita Nuova_. The spell of boyhood is never broken, through the ups and
downs of life. His course of thought advances, alters, deepens, but is
continuous. From youth to age, from the first glimpse to the perfect
work, the same idea abides with him, "even from the flower till the
grape was ripe." It may assume various changes--an image of beauty, a
figure of philosophy, a voice from the other world, a type of heavenly
wisdom and joy--but still it holds, in self-imposed and willing
thraldom, that creative and versatile and tenacious spirit. It was the
dream and hope of too deep and strong a mind to fade and come to
naught--to be other than the seed of the achievement and crown of life.
But with all faith in the star and the freedom of genius, we may doubt
whether the prosperous citizen would have done that which was done by
the man without a home.