May 12, 1840.]LECTURE III.THE HERO AS POET. DANTE: SHAKSPEARE.The Hero as Divinity, the Hero as Prophet, are productions of old ages; notto be repeated in the new. They presuppose a certain rudeness ofconception, which the progress of mere scientific knowledge puts an end to.There needs to be, as it were, a world vacant, or almost vacant ofscientific forms, if men in their loving wonder are to fancy theirfellow-man either a god or one speaking with the voice of a god. Divinityand Prophet are past. e are now to see our Hero in the less ambitious,but also less !uestionable, character of Poet; a character which does notpass. The Poet is a heroic figure belonging to all ages; whom all agespossess, when once he is produced, whomthe newest age as the oldest mayproduce;--and will produce, always when "ature pleases. #et "ature send aHero-soul; in no age is it other than possible that he may be shaped into aPoet.Hero, Prophet, Poet,--many different names, in different times, and places,do we give to $reat %en; according to varieties we note in them, accordingto the sphere in which they have displayed themselves& e might give manymore names, on this same principle. ' will remark again, however, as afact not unimportant to be understood, that the different (sphere(constitutes the grand origin of such distinction; that the Hero can bePoet, Prophet, )ing, Priest or what you will, according to the kind ofworld he finds himself born into. ' confess, ' have no notion of a trulygreat man that could not be (all( sorts of men. The Poet who could merelysit on a chair, and compose stan*as, would never make a stan*a worth much.He could not sing the Heroic warrior, unless he himself were at least aHeroic warrior too. ' fancy there is in him the Politician, the Thinker,#egislator, Philosopher;--in one or the other degree, he could have been,he is all these. +o too ' cannot understand how a %irabeau, with thatgreat glowing heart, with the fire that was in it, with the bursting tearsthat were in it, could not have written verses, tragedies, poems, andtouched all hearts in that way, had his course of life and education ledhim thitherward. The grand fundamental character is that of $reat %an;that the man be great. "apoleon has words in himwhich are like ,usterlit*-attles. #ouis .ourteenth/s %arshals are a kind of poetical men withal;the things Turenne says are full of sagacity and geniality, like sayings of+amuel 0ohnson. The great heart, the clear deep-seeing eye1 there itlies; no man whatever, in what province soever, can prosper at all withoutthese. Petrarch and -occaccio did diplomatic messages, it seems, !uitewell1 one can easily believe it; they had done things a little harder thanthese& -urns, a gifted song-writer, might have made a still better%irabeau. +hakspeare,--one knows not what (he( could not have made, in thesupreme degree.True, there are aptitudes of "ature too. "ature does not make all greatmen, more than all other men, in the self-same mould. 2arieties ofaptitude doubtless; but infinitely more of circumstance; and far oftenestit is the (latter( only that are looked to. -ut it is as with common menin the learning of trades. 3ou take any man, as yet a vague capability ofa man, who could be any kind of craftsman; and make himinto a smith, acarpenter, a mason1 he is then and thenceforth that and nothing else. ,ndif, as ,ddison complains, you sometimes see a street-porter, staggeringunder his load on spindle-shanks, and near at hand a tailor with the frameof a +amson handling a bit of cloth and small hitechapel needle,--itcannot be considered that aptitude of "ature alone has been consulted hereeither&--The $reat %an also, to what shall he be bound apprentice4 $ivenyour Hero, is he to become 5on!ueror, )ing, Philosopher, Poet4 't is anine6plicably comple6 controversial-calculation between the world and him&He will read the world and its laws; the world with its laws will be thereto be read. hat the world, on (this( matter, shall permit and bid is, aswe said, the most important fact about the world.--Poet and Prophet differ greatly in our loose modern notions of them. 'nsome old languages, again, the titles are synonymous; (2ates( means bothProphet and Poet1 and indeed at all times, Prophet and Poet, wellunderstood, have much kindred of meaning. .undamentally indeed they arestill the same; in this most important respect especially, That they havepenetrated both of them into the sacred mystery of the 7niverse; what$oethe calls 8the open secret.8 8hich is the great secret48 asksone.--8The (open( secret,8--open to all, seen by almost none& That divinemystery, which lies everywhere in all -eings, 8the Divine 'dea of theorld, that which lies at the bottom of ,ppearance,8 as .ichte styles it;of which all ,ppearance, fromthe starry sky to the grass of the field, butespecially the ,ppearance of %an and his work, is but the (vesture(, theembodiment that renders it visible. This divine mystery (is( in all timesand in all places; veritably is. 'n most times and places it is greatlyoverlooked; and the 7niverse, definable always in one or the other dialect,as the reali*ed Thought of $od, is considered a trivial, inert, commonplacematter,--as if, says the +atirist, it were a dead thing, which someupholsterer had put together& 't could do no good, at present, to (speak(much about this; but it is a pity for every one of us if we do not knowit,live ever in the knowledge of it. 9eally a most mournful pity;--a failureto live at all, if we live otherwise&-ut now, ' say, whoever may forget this divine mystery, the (2ates(,whether Prophet or Poet, has penetrated into it; is a man sent hither tomake it more impressively known to us. That always is his message; he isto reveal that to us,--that sacred mystery which he more than others livesever present with. hile others forget it, he knows it;--' might say, hehas been driven to knowit; without consent asked of him, he finds himselfliving in it, bound to live in it. :nce more, here is no Hearsay, but adirect 'nsight and -elief; this man too could not help being a sincere man&hosoever may live in the shows of things, it is for him a necessity ofnature to live in the very fact of things. , man once more, in earnestwith the 7niverse, though all others were but toying with it. He is a(2ates(, first of all, in virtue of being sincere. +o far Poet andProphet, participators in the 8open secret,8 are one.ith respect to their distinction again1 The (2ates( Prophet, we mightsay, has sei*ed that sacred mystery rather on the moral side, as $ood and;vil, Duty and Prohibition; the (2ates( Poet on what the $ermans call theaesthetic side, as -eautiful, and the like. The one we may call a revealerof what we are to do, the other of what we are to love. -ut indeed thesetwo provinces run into one another, and cannot be dis?@. His education was the best then going; muchschool-divinity, ,ristotelean logic, some #atin classics,--noinconsiderable insight into certain provinces of things1 and Dante, withhis earnest intelligent nature, we need not doubt, learned better than mostall that was learnable. He has a clear cultivated understanding, and ofgreat subtlety; this best fruit of education he had contrived to reali*efrom these scholastics. He knows accurately and well what lies close tohim; but, in such a time, without printed books or free intercourse, hecould not know well what was distant1 the small clear light, most luminousfor what is near, breaks itself into singular (chiaroscuro( striking onwhat is far off. This was Dante/s learning from the schools. 'n life, hehad gone through the usual destinies; been twice out campaigning as asoldier for the .lorentine +tate, been on embassy; had in his thirty-fifthyear, by natural gradation of talent and service, become one of the 5hief%agistrates of .lorence. He had met in boyhood a certain -eatricePortinari, a beautiful little girl of his own age and rank, and grown upthenceforth in partial sight of her, in some distant intercourse with her.,ll readers know his graceful affecting account of this; and then of theirbeing parted; of her being wedded to another, and of her death soon after.+he makes a great figure in Dante/s Poem; seems to have made a great figurein his life. :f all beings it might seem as if she, held apart from him,far apart at last in the dim ;ternity, were the only one he had ever withhis whole strength of affection loved. +he died1 Dante himself waswedded; but it seems not happily, far from happily. ' fancy, the rigorousearnest man, with his keen e6citabilities, was not altogether easy to makehappy.e will not complain of Dante/s miseries1 had all gone right with him ashe wished it, he might have been Prior, Podesta, or whatsoever they callit, of .lorence, well accepted among neighbors,--and the world had wantedone of the most notable words ever spoken or sung. .lorence would have hadanother prosperous #ord %ayor; and the ten dumb centuries continuedvoiceless, and the ten other listening centuries Afor there will be ten ofthem and moreB had no (Divina 5ommedia( to hear& e will complain ofnothing. ,nobler destiny was appointed for this Dante; and he, strugglinglike a man led towards death and crucifi6ion, could not help fulfilling it.$ive (him( the choice of his happiness& He knewnot, more than we do, whatwas really happy, what was really miserable.'n Dante/s Priorship, the $uelf-$hibelline, -ianchi-"eri, or some otherconfused disturbances rose to such a height, that Dante, whose party hadseemed the stronger, was with his friends cast une6pectedly forth intobanishment; doomed thenceforth to a life of woe and wandering. Hisproperty was all confiscated and more; he had the fiercest feeling that itwas entirely un