ng of the sacredness of his family life. In
this matter he exhibited the wisdom of the gentleman-Saint, Francis de
Sales, who used to say, "Without necessity never speak of yourself well
or ill." It was indeed a principle of propriety with our poet that
talking about one's self in public is to be avoided as unbecoming unless
there is need of self vindication or edification of others. Only once in
the Divine Comedy does he mention his own name and at once he apologizes
for the intrusion. It is true that the poem is autobiographical but it
is that in so far as it concerns matters of universal interest from
which the poet may draw the moral that what God has done for him He will
do for all men if they will but let Him. That being so it was not
necessary for him to exploit his family affairs.

Out of the kindly heart of Dante sprang gratitude, one of the strongest
virtues of his being. He never wearies in pouring forth thanks to his
Maker for the gift of creation and His fatherly care of all beings in
the universe. He is filled with unbounded gratitude to the Saviour for
having become man and for having suffered and died for our salvation
instead of taking an easier way of satisfying divine justice. In his
works he mentions the name or the offices of the Holy Ghost eight times.
To the Blessed Virgin, the saints and especially to Beatrice for their
virtuous example and loving protection he is heartily grateful. His
thankful affection is extended to those who showed him kindness
particularly during the years of his homeless poverty. To them he offers
the only thing he has to give--an undying tribute of praise. Tenderly he
makes known his obligations to all those who taught him, both the
teachers of his own day and the masters of past ages. But it is to
Virgil, his ideal author, the guide whom he has chosen for his journey
through Hell and Purgatory, that he offers his most touching tribute of
gratitude. The occasion arises when he discovers his beloved Beatrice in
the Garden of Eden and turns to Virgil to tell him of his overwhelming
joy. But behold! his guide has vanished, his mission fulfilled. And all
the joys of the earthly Paradise, originally forfeited by the sin of
Eve, cannot compensate the disciple for the loss of his great master. In
loneliness he weeps, staining again his face that had been washed clean
with dew by Virgil when they emerged from Hell. Is there not genuine
pathos in these lines?

"Virgil was gone!