question, concerning the dark spots in the Moon,
seeks the solution of a merely physical difficulty, an
explanation of a visible phenomenon, this being
regarded as a first step upon the ladder that leads
up to the most sublime mysteries of faith. Further,
by the mystical explanation which Beatrice offers
of this natural phenomenon, the poet would, in this
first step of his ascent to the things above sense,
warn man against too much confidence in the guid-
ance of the senses : —
Ella sorrise alquanto, e poi: S'egli erra
L'opinion, mi disae, dei mortali,
Dove chiave di senso non disserra,
56
THE HEAVEN OF THE MOON
Certo non ti dovrien punger gli strali
D'ammirazion omai ; poi retro ai sensi
Vedi clie la ragione ha corte I'ali.
Par. ii. 52.*
It is not wonderful that men's opinions should be
erroneous concerning suprasensible matters ; since,
even where you have the guidance of the senses,
you are led to conclusions which can easily be shown
to be wrong, Dante, therefore, puts forward to
be confuted by Beatrice an opinion expressed in
the Convlvio where, following Averrhoes, he had
attributed these spots to relative rarity and density
of the Moon's substance. The actual question of
the Moon's spots is of slight importance compared
to the principle at stake ; but Dante regards his
art-work as a mirror which must be pure and perfect
to reflect the divine truth and beauty, nor will he
allow a single speck of dust, however minute, to
rest upon it. Like the Moon, the eighth or Stellar
heaven, the Firmament, shows degrees of brilliancy
in its parts ; and these constellations have virtues
for influencing mankind and the Universe below
them, which differ not only in degree but in kind.
For instance, Dante himself in Paradiso xxii. at-
tributes his own talents to the great virtue of a
particular constellation (the Gemini) ; and, in the
(supposed apocryphal) treatise De Aqua et Terra, the
elevation of our earth above the surface of the
water is ascribed to the elevating influence of the
stars in another region of this same heaven. Such
* Somewhat she smiled; and then, "If the opinion
Of mortals be erroncoxxs," she said,
" Where'er the key of sense doth not unlock,
Certes, the shafts of wonder should not pierce thee
Now, forasmuch as, following the senses,
Thou seest that the reason hath short wings."
Longfellow.
57
DANTE'S TEN HEAVENS
different effects cannot come from one sole specific
virtue, more or less diffused throughout and more
or less brightly revealing itself, as Dante's theory
of " rare and dense " would imply ; but must pro-
ceed from specifically diverse virtues, the fruits of
different formal principles. And, again, even reason-
ing, founded upon common experience and simple ex-
periment, proves the theory to be absolutely untenable.
The true explanation which Beatrice gives is based
ux3on a passage in the Dialogues of St. Gregory
(a work closely followed in several places of the
Paradlso) : " Nothing can be disposed of in this
visible world, but by another nature which is in-
visible." From the ninth heaven or Primum Mobile,
revolving within the Empyrean and receiving virtue
from it to direct the movements of all the Universe
which it encloses and to impress corporeal sub-
stances with their forms, the Stellar heaven receives
this manifold and universal virtue which it dis-
tributes differently among its different stars, which
are distinct from its substance and yet held fast
therein. Analogously, the seven lower spheres have
each a special distinguishing virtue, which they
receive from above and dispose, with due difference,
to its proper end. But these heavens can no more
act of themselves than the hammer could produce
work without the craftsman ; for their motion and
power are merely as hammers in the hands of the
celestial intelligences, to carry out the Divine Plan
in the government of the Universe and to stamp
the Divine Ideas into the material creation, as a
seal stamps figures uj)on wax, for " every intelligence
is full of forms." From the Cherubim, who rule
the eighth heaven, the constellations receive their
diverse virtues ; and the stars shine with different
58
THE HEAVEN OF THE MOON
light and brilliancy, because each has received a
different coniniunication from the niultiforni virtue
of these angelic motors. This ^-irtue or power re-
ceived from the Cherubim is the animating principle
of the Stellar heaven ; and the stars and constella-
tions are its limbs and organs, differing and having
different specific virtues even as our limbs and
faculties have different functions. A particular ap-
plication of this theory to the Angels and the sphere
of the Moon, over which they preside, will solve
Dante's little difficulty about the bright and dark
places in the Moon ; for they are due to a different
reception of the simple specific virtue of these
celestial beings.
This somewhat arid discussion serves but as pre-
lude to a vision so full of pathetic beauty and
human interest as hardly to be surpassed even in
the Divine Comedy, with, just here and there, a
scholastic phrase thrown in like the quaint acces-
sories of a mediaeval picture. Within the eternal -
pearl of the Moon, against the background of that
strange bright shining cloud, faint forms appear,
like reflections in polished and transparent glass,
or as seen through clear and shallow waters ; dim,
yet divinely glorious figures of beautiful women.
Angelico's saints and Angels are even less spiritual-
ised, and less beyond the ken of earth. Dante's
mistake, in supposing them reflections and turning-
round to see, affords Beatrice another opportunity
of rebuking his aiDplication of physical explanations
to suiDernatural things and his confidence in the A
guidance of the senses ; for this is one of the first
lessons that man must learn in his contemplation
of sacred things, if he would ascend step by step
through sensible signs to the things above and
59
DANTE'S TEN HEAVENS
beyond sense. These are not reflections but real
7 spirits, ve7'e sustanzie, the souls of women who in
life failed to keep perfectly their monastic vow.
They still retain, as it were, a remnant of earth
in their appearance ; at least they are not clothed
in the dazzling radiance of the higher spheres, and
Dante's eyes can more readily comprehend their
degree of bliss. There is a certain exquisite analogy
between the nature of the matter discussed upon
Dante's arrival at this first heaven and the appari-
tion of this first group of blessed spirits ; it was
merely a physical difficulty that was to be solved,
yet it had led him to a mystical theory of the
angelic government of the heavens ; and so these
blessed ones that appear to him are still robed in
the human form though glorified, yet from them
he is to hear the most divine doctrine of celestial
charity as essential to the bliss of Paradise and the
beatitude of all God's Angels and saints.
Dante turns eagerly to the one that seems most
desirous to speak with him, almost confused in his
eagerness, for this is the first spirit of Paradise that
he has seen, and his address becomes almost lyrical
in his ardent impetuosity —
O ben create spirito, che a'rai
Di vita eterna la dolcezza senti,
Che lion gustata non s'intende mai.
And now no promise of fame as in the Inferno, no
offer of prayers as in the Purgatorio, but merely a
confident appeal to their celestial charity —
Grazioso mi fia, se mi contenti
Del nome tuo e della vostia sorte.
Par. iii. 37.*
* "O well-created spirit, who in the rays
Of life eternal dost the sweetness taste
CO
THE HEAVEN OF THE MOON
Neither have they on their part any need to ask
him aught ; the souls in Paradise all recognise and
know who Dante is, whether they had any know-
ledge of him in the other world or not, for they
read in God all things that concern them to know ;
but their divine beauty and glory, even in this lowest
sphere, hide from the poet's recognition one who
had been near to him on earth. For it is Ficcarda
Donati that reveals herself and explains the lot of
the spirits in this sphere ; and here, in Dante's
answer as to why he had not recognised his wife's
kinswoman, there is a most impressive contrast with
many episodes in the Inferno and Purgatorio, where
Dante meets with those whom he had known in
the other life : — •
Ond'io a lei : Ne' mirabili aspetti
Vostri risplende non so die divino,
Che vi trasmuta dai primi concetti.
Pero non fui a rimembrar festino.
Par. iii. 58.^
Analogous words, with how terrible a difference, are-
those addressed to the spirit of Ciacco in Inferno
vi. : —
Ed io a lei : L'angoscia clie tu hai
Forse ti tira fuor della mia mente,
Si clie non par, ch'io ti vedessi mai.
Inf vi. 43.-
Whicli being untasted ne'er is comprehended,
Grateful 'twill be to me if thou content me
Both with thy name and with your destiny."
Longfellow.
^ Whence I to her : " In j'our wondrous aspects there gloweth
back something divine, that transforms you. from our first con-
ceptions. Wherefore I was not quick to remember j^ou."
^ And I to it : " The anguish that thou hast perhaps draws
thee out of mj - memory, so that it seemeth not that I have ever
seen thee."
61
DANTE'S TEN HEAVENS
But in many circles of Hell no disfigurement can hide
the sinners from the poet's relentless gaze, although,
in the realms of hope in Purgatory, so wasted is
Piccarda's own brother Forese that it is by his voice
alone that Dante's memory is awakened. Now all
this has yielded to the exquisite conception of the
transfiguring effect of iierfect joy.
Piccarda's answer touching their lot, their joy at
having the form of beatitude which is the pleasure of
the Holy Spirit, and this apparently low place assigned
to them because of " vows neglected and in some part
void," induces Dante's question as to whether there
mingles with their happiness no desire for a higher
place. Full of joy comes Piccarda's reply, telling him
of the perfection of their charity, their wills made
absolutely one with the "wdll of God, who has assigned
different mansions or degrees of beatitude to all the
blessed : —
Frate, la nostra volonta quieta
Virtu di carita, che fa volerue
Sol quel ch'avemo, e cl'altro uon ci asseta.
Se disiassimo esser piu superne,
Foran discord! li nostri disiri
Dal voler di Colui clie qui ne cerne,
Che vedrai non capere iu questi giri,
S'essere in carita e qui necesse,
E se la sua natura hen rimiri.
Anzi e forniale ad esto beato esse
Tenersi dentro alia divina voglia,
Per cli'una fansi nostre voglie stesse,
Si che, come noi sem di soglia iu soglia
Per questo regno, a tutto il regno place,
Com' alio He ch'a suo voler ne invoglia ;
E la sua volontate e nostra pace :
Ella e quel mare al qual tutto si move
Cio ch'ella crea e clie natura face. Par. iii. 70.^
^ " Brother, our -will is quieted by virtue
Of charity, that makes us wish alone
For what we have, nor gives us thirst for more.
62
THE HEAVEN OF THE MOON
For tbe perfection of man's mind is measured by-
charity which unites him to God, his ultimate end,
and the perfection of charity which is possible to any
creature even in Paradise consists in the whole jiower
of his affection being ever absolutely fixed on God.^
Just as the substantial form is necessary for the being
of anything and actuates formless matter, making the
thing what it is, constituting its nature : so this per-
fection of charity, this absolute making one of the
wills of the saints with the will of God, is formal or
essential to beatitude. Love is the \atal principle
that informs and animates the bliss of Paradise as the
soul of man does his body. And of this bliss of Para-
dise each soul has received more or less, but each is
perfectly blessed, for each is perfectly full according
to his capacity of this supreme grace of Knowledge
and Love.
Briefly, but with ineffable pathos, Piccarda relates
the story of her own life. Piccarda Donati, the sister
of Corso and Forese Donati, and a distant kinswoman
If to be more exalted we aspired,
Discordant would our aspirations be
Unto the will of Him who here secludes us,
Which thou shalt see finds no place in these circles,
If being in charit}^ is needful here
And if thou lookest well into its nature ;
Nay, 'tis essential to this blest existence
To keep itself within the will divine,
"Whereby our very wishes are made one ;
So that, as we are station above station
Throughout this realm, to all the realm 'tis pleasing,
As to the King who makes His will our will.
And His will is our peace ; this is the sea
To which is moving onward whatsoever
It doth create, and all that nature makes."
Longfellow.
St. Thomas, Summa II. — 2. q. 184. a. 2 {Aquinas Ethicus).
63
DANTE'S TEN HEAVENS
of Dante's wife Gemma, became a nun of the order of
St. Clare, and then M^as forced from her convent by
her brother Corso and compelled to marry Rossellmo
della Tosa, after which she very soon fell ill and died.
Passd alio Sposo del Cielo, al quale spontaneamente
sera giurata, says the author of the Ottimo Com-
mento, who had known Dante in exile and to whom
we owe the story that Dante persuaded Piccarda's
brother Forese to make his deathbed repentance.^
Piccarda is said to have been of great beauty, and
some of the early commentators, followed by Ben-
venuto daImola,add a miraculous element to the story,
concerning her prayer before the crucifix immediately
after the marriage ceremony, calling upon Christ her
Divine Spouse, and her consequent miraculous illness
and death, ascending to God %\dth her palm of vir-
ginity. Dante's words, however, certainly imply that
she yielded to compulsion, and he leaves her sub-
sequent life on earth in a mournful twilight : " God
knows what afterward my life became " —
E Dio si sa qiial poi mia vita fusi.
From Florence to the Empire is with Dante a
natural transition. On the right of the Florentine
lady is the great Empress Constance, the heiress of
the last of the Norman rulers of the two Sicilies,
who by her marriage with Henry VI. became the
mother of Frederick II. Piccarda implies that the
story of Constance was similar to her own ; forced
* This Forese Donati, tlie brother of Corso and the son of Simone^
who appears in Purgatorj'- expiating gluttonj', is not to be con-
founded with another Forese Donati, the brother of Gemma and
the son of Manetto, who is not mentioned in the Divine Comedy.
Several commentators, including Eossetti in Dante and His Circle,
have confused the two persons. Cf . I. del Lungo, Dino Compagniy
Vol. ii. Appen. xvi.
64
THE HEAVEN OF THE MOON
from her convent to marry the son of Barbarossa,
but never divested of the heart's veil : —
Non fu dal vel del cor giammai disciolta.
Giovanni Villani, in curious contrast to Dante's words,
remarks that Constance was monaca del corpo e non
della mente, and states that she fled to the convent
merely for safety. Historical criticism rejects the
whole legend. We shall perhaps do best to disre-
gard both history and legend, and think of Constance
as we find her in Dante's verse, in spite of the violence
of men clinging fast to the ideal of her heart, and
shining with all the light of the sphere of the Moon.
The poet's idea, apparently, is that Constance is en-
joying a higher degree of bliss than the other spirits
that appear with her, for, whereas Piccarda yielded
mainly through weakness and personal fear, Con-
stance complied rather to secure the peace of Italy
and from fear of the evils that might befall her
country.
Piccarda's speech has closed w^ith the Ave Maria,
and the spirits have returned to the Empyrean.
There remain certain questions to be solved, difficul-
ties raised in Dante's mind by their appearance and
words. These problems correspond perfectly to this
lowest sphere of Paradise. They are no longer on
a purely physical question, as was the preparatory
discussion touching the spots on tfte Moon, nor yet on
the profoundest mysteries of theology ; but the one
is to elucidate the state and position of all the souls
in Paradise, even those that appear in the lowest
spheres ; and the other concerns the Will, for rectitude
of will is absolutely requisite in order to attain to the
last end of man, the vision which those spirits which
Dante has just seen are actually enjoying. Just as
65 F
DANTE'S TEN HEAVENS
it is the special function of the Angels to care for
individuals as their guardians, so these matters, elu-
cidated in the heaven which they move, concern
the guidance and salvation of individual souls.
Beatrice reads both Dante's questions — the first about
the Divine Justice in lessening the degree of merit of
these souls that appeared in the Moon, the second con-
cerning the doctrine of Plato touching the return of
souls to their stars, with which what he has seen
seems to agree.
Beatrice answers the second question first as being
more dangerous, quella die piu ha di felle. Some such
theories concerning the souls and the stars had been
actually declared heretical by the Council of Constan-
tinople in the sixth century, and it is curious to note
that the famous picture in the National Gallery to
which reference has already been made — the Assump-
tion, which, according to Vasari, was painted for
Matteo Palmieri by Sandro Botticelli — at one time
fell under ecclesiastical suspicion as tainted with
some doctrine of this kind. Thus the question was
possibly of some importance to a mediaeval Florentine
on the threshold of the Renaissance, and Beatrice
simply explains what he has seen. These spirits are
for all eternity in the same Heaven as the Seraphim
and the most glorious of God's saints, even His own
Virgin Mother ; they enjoy the Beatific Vision in that
last Heaven of all, for all eternity, and have only left
their thrones for a time and descended into the in-
constant Moon to give Dante this sensible sign of the
lowest degree of bliss in the Empyrean. It is merely
a sensible sign of an invisible mystery only to be
apprehended by the intellect ; a sensible sign whereby
Dante may apprehend the doctrine of the distinction
of the degrees, or mansions of beatitude, — both the
66
THE HEAVEN OF THE MOON
inequality of the merit by which they attained to
their beatitude, and the inequality of perfection in
that beatitude. All such inequality proceeds from
inequality in the soul's capacity of the Divine Charity,
and these momentary apparitions in the lower heavens
are sensible signs of this intellectual mystery. Man
ascends from things of sense to things apprehended
by the intellect, through visible things to the know-
ledge of things invisible, for all man's knowledge
comes first from the senses.^
Dante's other difficulty, as to how it could be just
that these souls should lose merit through violence
of others, is less dangerous ; for the Divine Justice is
incomprehensible to mortal eyes, and faith is needed.
As Dr. Scartazzini points out, the theories main-
tained by Dante in this heaven are intended to
manifest the moral freedom of man, and to show
that no external thing can interfere with the soul
that is bent upon attaining the end for which God
has destined it. Rectitude of the will is requisite for
attainment of the bliss of Paradise, and nothing
whatever can take away the freedom of that will.
Dante follows closely the Avords of Aristotle concern-
ing involuntary actions, and the teaching of St.
Thomas, and especially of Richard of St. Victor,
where the latter, in his treatise De Statu Inter ion's
Hominis, treats of the dignity of Free Will. Aris-
totle defines a compulsory action as one whose
origination is from without, the agent's will contri-
buting nothing. Taken in this sense, the action of
Piccarda and Constance was not absolutely compul-
sory ; for, " as regards the proper act of the will
* It will be remembered that scholastic philosophy regards the
imagination as a material and sensuous faculty, as an internal
sense, whereas the intellect is immaterial and spiritual.
07
DANTE'S TEN HEAVENS
itself, no violence can be done to the will," that is
the great point here : —
Che volonta, se non vuol, non si ammorza.
" For will, unless it willeth, is not quenched." ^ It is
only in the acts that are commanded by the will and
exercised through some inferior power that the will
can suffer violence, not as regards the proper act of
the will itself.^ Such is the freedom of the human
will that God Himself will not do violence to it.
*' To put violence upon free will," writes Richard of
St. Victor, "neither fits the Creator, nor is in the
power of the creature. If all hell, all the world,
even all the hosts of heaven were to come together
and combine in this one thing, they could not force a
single consent from free will in anything not willed." ^
But these nuns did not keep their wills firm, as St.
Lawrence on his fiery bed and the Roman hero be-
fore Porsenna. Through fear their wills yielded, for
they did not return to their cloisters on the first
cessation of force ; and actions done through fear of
a greater e^dl are rather voluntary than involuntary.
There is a distinction between will hypothetic, which
does not consent to an evil, and the actual will»
which chooses what iinder the circumstances seems
the lesser evil. The hypothetic will of these women
kept firm to their vow, but their resi)ective or actual
wills yielded to violence. Thus, according to Bea-
^ Par. iv. 7G.
^ Sumvia I. — 2. q. 6. a. 4. '
•■' De Statu Interioris Ilominis i. 3. There is an odd coincidence
of expression in the old mystic's totus infernits, totus miindus,
totus denique militim ccelestis exercitus with Hamlet's—
O all you host of heaven! earth! what else?
And shall I couple hell?
68
1^'
THE HEAVEN OF THE MOON
trice, Piccarda and Constance fell voluntarily from the
state of perfection to which they were called ; for
*' the idea of voluntariness is sufficiently fulfilled in
that which is voluntary for the sake of something
else — as a means though not as an end," ^ — that is, to
escape a worse evil feared.
It is with a profound sentence upon the satisfaction
of the human intellect that Dante passes on to the
final point in the discussion. Human intellect cannot
be satisfied until it penetrates to Universal Truth : it
can penetrate so far, and questions arise as stepping
stones to lead up to it : —
lo veggio ben clie giammai non si sazia
Nostro intelletto, se il Ver non lo illustra,
Di fuor dal qual nessun vero si spazia.
Posasi in esso, come liera in lustra,
Tosto clie giunto I'ha : e giugner puollo ;
Se non, ciascun disio sarebbe frustra.
Nasce per quello, a guisa di rampollo,
Appie del vero il dubbio : ed e natura,
Cli'al sommo pinge noi di collo in collo.
Far. iv. 124.2
Just as the object of the will is the Universal Good v^-
which is found in God alone, so the object of the
intellect is the Universal Truth. The intellect of the
^ Summa I. — 2. q. 6. a. G. ad 1.
- "Well I perceive that never sated is
Oar intellect unless tbe Truth illume it,
Beyond wliicli nothing true expands itself.
It rests therein, as wild beast in his lair,
When it attains it ; and it can attain it ;
If not, then each desire would frustrate be.
Therefore springs up, in fashion of a shoot,
Doubt at the foot of truth ; and this is nature
Which to the top from height to height impels us.
Longfellow.
C9
DANTE'S TEN HEAVENS
rational creature has a natural desire to know the
truth, and, if it cannot penetrate to the First Cause
of things, this desire which comes from nature would
be in vain. Thus from the known we pass to the
unknown, from lower to higher truths, until we
reach supreme Truth. It is again the mighty
thought expressed in Marlowe's mighty line —
Still climbiug after knowledge infinite.
Dante would, therefore, have a difficulty explained
concerning the making of satisfaction for broken
vows, in order to set forth still more clearly that
glorious liberty of the will, with which man becomes
obnoxius lustitice livcemianti, and can merit eternal
life. Liberty of the will is then the true theme of
the closing teaching of this first heaven, which opens
Canto V. ; the actual question of satisfaction for
broken vows is of merely secondary importance. It
is, indeed, to this liberty of the will that the sanctity
of a vow is due : —
Lo maggior don, clie Dio per sua largliezza
Fesse creando, ed alia sua bontate
Piu conforniato, e quel cli'ei piu apprezza,