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Dante am I, of deepest lore in song Hierophant, elected to combine Inheritance in Art with Nature’s sign, Accounted miracle all men among. Wings of Imagination sure and strong Bore me through worlds infernal and divine, And gave to verse immortal to consign What doth to Earth or doth to Heaven belong. Bright Florence brought me forth, but her fond son To bitter exile drove, step-mother made By guile of tongues malevolent and base. Ravenna sheltered me; in her is laid My dust; my spirit thitherward has gone Where Wisdom reigns, and Envy hath not place.

It is usual to commence a review of an author’s productions by his most important work; but theDivina Commedia requires a chapter to itself, and precedence must consequently be given to Dante’s minor writings. Of these theVita Nuova stands first both in time and in importance. It is epoch-making in many ways, as the first great example of Italian prose, the first revelation of the genius of the greatest mediæval poet, and the incarnation of that romantic conception of ideal love by which the Middle Age might fairly claim to have augmented the heritage bequeathed by antiquity. The main note of Dante’s genius here is its exquisite and unearthly spirituality, which, indeed, is visible in much of the poetry and art of the time, but attains its most intense expression in him. Something like it has occasionally been seen since, as in John Henry Newman; but it is in our day too much out of keeping with the legitimate demands of a busy and complicated society to occur except as a temporary and individual phenomenon.