There high up, far, far beyond the reach of mortal eye, had it been on earth, sat Beatrice, who had left the poet's side. But in Heaven, with no destroying medium to intervene, distance is no let to perfect sight. He spoke to her. He poured out his gratitude to her, for it was she who had made him a free man from a slave, she who had made him sane, she who had left her footprints in Hell for him, when she went to summon Virgil to his aid. Oh, that his life hereafter might be worthy of the grace and power that had so worked for him! Then from her distant place in Heaven, Beatrice looked at him and smiled, then turned her eyes upon the Uncreated Light.[93] St. Bernard was at Dante's side, and prayed that the seer's vision might be strengthened to look on God. Then Dante turned his eyes to the light above. The unutterable glory of that light dazzled not his intent, love-guided gaze. Nay, rather did it draw it to itself and every moment strengthen it with keener sight and feed it with intenser love. Deeper and deeper into that Divine Light the seer saw. Had he turned his eyes aside, then indeed he knew the piercing glory would have blinded them; but that could never be, for he who gazes on that light feels all desire centred there--in it are all things else. So for a time with kindling gaze the poet looked into the light of God, unchanging, yet to the strengthening sight revealing ever more. Mysteries that no human tongue can tell, no human mind conceive, were flashed upon him in the supreme moment, and then all was over--'The power of the lofty vision failed.' * * * * * Dante does not tell us where he found himself when the vision broke. He only tells us this: that as a wheel moves equally in all its parts, so his desire and will were, without strain or jar, revolved henceforth by that same Love that moves the sun and all the other stars.[94] This was the end of all that Dante had thought and felt and lived through--a will that rolled in perfect oneness with the will of God. This was the end to which he would bring his readers, this was the purpose of his sacred poem, this was the meaning of his life.[95] FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 77: _Paradiso_, ii. 1-15.] [Footnote 78: _Paradiso_, i. 1-12.] [Footnote 79: _Ibid._ xxxiii. 58-63.] [Footnote 80: _Convito_, III. xv.] [Footnote 81: _Purgatorio_, xxx. 79-81, xxxi. 64-67; _Paradiso_, i. 100-102, xxii. 1 sqq.] [Footnote 82: _Paradiso_, xxiii. 1-15.] [Footnote 83: _Ibid._ iv. 28-48.] [Footnote 84: _Paradiso_, x. 139--xi. 12.] [Footnote 85: _Paradiso_, iii. 64-90.] [Footnote 86: _Paradiso_, vi. 112-126.] [Footnote 87: _Paradiso_, xxvii, 22-34.] [Footnote 88: Milman.] [Footnote 89: _Paradiso_, xiv. 85--xix. 148.] [Footnote 90: _Paradiso_, xx.] [Footnote 91: _Ibid._ xxviii. 41, 42.] [Footnote 92: _Ibid._ xxx. 40-42.] [Footnote 93: _Paradiso_, xxxi. 52-93.] [Footnote 94: _Paradiso_, xxxiii. 143-145.] [Footnote 95: Compare Symonds, p. 183.] APPENDIX