Evening star., 1928-04-01

another. with q hundred variations OF
financial attitude; at one time he re-
celves $500 a year--that Is, In present
value, $4,000: then we find him writing
a "Compleynt to His Purs," describing
his poverty: at last he has to engage
protection against his creditors. His
nation honored him, and provided state
ly lodging for him-when he was dead
he was buried I'm Westminster Abbey,
and his tomb became the nucleus of
that poets corner which lends SOM
ber glory to famous church and
makes 1t verify house of God
Time has preserved much more of
| him than the Canterbury Tales" but
the world is content with that; It does
not care TO learn that "Troilus and
Creseyede" Is tale admirably and
yoluptuously told; and prefers "'The
Princess" to the Legends of Good
Women" The tales are one of the
milestones of English literature, and
one of the greatest portrait galleries
of this literature; here shall you
meet the knight with his yeoman
and squire. the princess and the
friar, the monk and the parson, the
summoner and the pardoner. the SER
| geant-at-law and the doctor OF physic.
the merchant and the shipman. the mill
Ter and the cook. the manciple and the
reeve, the ploughman and. HEARD
above all. the wife of Bath. No one
could tell from the nature of their
novelties that they are pious pilgrims
bound for Canterbury's shrine to be
cleansed of their sins; they love lusty
story, and bear with equanimity the un-
redeemed vulgarity OF the miller's story
We do not mind that much. only the
ancient English makes us stumble, and
diSturbs the smooth river of the verse
Yet. even across these alternating GEN.
turies. we get something OF the gentle
beauty Of his style, and reel premoni-
ton Of John Keats himself In that pla-
cid opening:
Whanne that April with his shoures
Sote
The droughte of March hath perced
Than longen folk to 60 on pilgrim
ages
And palmeres for to saken strange
And specially, from every shire ende
OF Englennde. to Canterbury they
wende
The holy. blissful martyr for TO sckc.
That him hath holpen whan that
they were seke.
~
Dante.
And now We are in Florence A love-
ly city, fairest in that which the eye
can never See-~in the everlasting pres
ence of thousand geniuses that trod
these narrow streets. The great Duomo
that. dominates the maze was not there
in Dante's days. nor Giottos Campanile,
nor Ghibertis Baptistry doors. which
Michelangelo would pronounce worthy
ArN h t1NA af l1An no, e.
was born-in the year l265--it was
smaller city. Just rising 10 wealth as
one of the western exits OF European
trade. and center OF domestic industry.
But 1t was as lively and violent as 1t
would ever be In the later Renaissance.
It had numberless political factions and
family feuds: the followers of the Pope
(the Guelphsl fought the followers of
the Emperor OF the moribund Holy Ro-
man Empire tthe Ghibcllines) the
feudal mobiles and the fiourishing middle
class fought and alternately disfran-
chised each other: the rival families Of
the Cerchi and the Donati fought for
political ascendancy under the names Of
Bianchi Neri-the Whites and the
Blacks; elections for municipal officers
TO rule the little city-state came every
six months. so that the people. In Low
ellis phrase. might have two chances
Of constitutional revolution In each year,
and. not content with that, they over
threw governments by force. killed one
another In the streets. poisoned one an
other at table and did their best to de-
stroy the civic liberty which they loudly
claimed to love. In such times Of tur-
bulence the wits and courage of men are
stirred to their highest and genius OF a
hundred kinds finds stimulus and OPP
portunity.
II was In this volcanic city that Du-
rante Alighieri lfor this was Dante'S
earlier name) grew to love and poetry.
He belonged TO the high family OF the