the bread of his exposition, thereby furnishing a full meal to the persons invited. All men, he says, according to the Philosopher (that is to say, according to Aristotle, the "master of all who know," the supreme teacher of philosophy, to Dante's mind and age), naturally desire knowledge, but are prevented, by various impediments of mind, body, and circumstances, from acquiring it. But he adds, with the fine and lofty generosity of a man consciously dwelling in another atmosphere from those around him: "As every man is naturally the friend of every man, and every friend grieves over the defects of him whom he loves, so those who are fed at the high table of knowledge are not without pity for those who eat grass with the lower animals. And since pity is the mother of bounty, those who know, give always liberally of their riches to the real poor, and are thus living fountains to satisfy the natural thirst above described. I therefore, who do not sit at that blessed table, yet, fled from the pasture of the vulgar, place myself at the feet of those who sit there, and gather up what falls from them—I, knowing the miserable life of those whom I have left behind me, and moved by the sweetness of that which, little by little, I gather up, have pitifully reserved something, a little portion of which has been already communicated to them, and which I have made them greatly desire." How his exposition resembles the bread which is served at every feast; and how this bread must be cleansed from every stain before it is offered to the guests; and how his use of the vulgar tongue instead of the Latin is like offering oaten instead of wheaten bread; yet how this oaten bread—this common mother tongue—
