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THE 
 LIFE AND WORKS 
 
 OF 
 
 DANTE ALLIGHIERI 
 
" Per quello che in particolare Ci riguarda, siamo specialmente 
 mossi dal riflettere quanto splendido ornamento egli sia del Cristian- 
 esimo. Poichfe quantunque spinto all' ira dalle amarezze dell' esiglio, 
 e per ispirito di parte errasse talvolta ne suoi guidizi, non fu per6 mai 
 ch' ei fosse di amimo avverso alle veritk della cristiana sapienza. Che 
 anzi dal profondo della religione trasse incorrotti e sublimi concetti ; e 
 la fiamma dell' ingegno sortita da natura alimento ed awaloro sempre 
 col soffio della fede divina, in modo che la poesia invocata da lui, canto 
 con versi non prima uditi i piu augusti misteri." 
 
 Letter of Pope Leo XIH. to Cardinal Galeati, Archbishop of Ravenna, 
 38th March, 1893. 
 
 " Fidelem dare operam divino poemati Aligherii nostri illustrando 
 est nimirum aeque de religione ac de civitate bene mereri." 
 
 Letter of Pope Leo XIIL to Mgr. Poletto, 3rd November, 1894. 
 
^a:yn^^ c^^J^^^^Cfy^-ce^^^ 
 
 ^//j/.ais^»-.^//e^ ^o^ 
 
THE LIFE AND WORKS 
 
 DANTE ALLIGHIERI 
 
 BEING AN INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF 
 
 THE "DIVINA COMMEDIA" 
 
 Rev. J. F. HOGAN, D.D. 
 
 PROFESSOR, ST, PATRICK'S COLLEGE, MAYNOOTH 
 
 LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO, 
 
 39 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON 
 NEW YORK AND BOMBAY 
 
 1899 
 
col 
 
 All rights reserved. 
 
 r 
 
 WABASH 
 COLLEGE 
 LIBRARY 
 
mibtl ©bstat. 
 
 H. S. BOWDEN, 
 
 Censor Deputatus. 
 
 imprimatur. 
 
 Herbertus Cardinalis Vaughan, 
 Archiep. Westmon, 
 
TABLE OF CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGES 
 
 Preface ix-xii 
 
 Life of Dante . 1-57 
 
 The Divine Comedy 58-67 
 
 Hell 68-135 
 
 Purgatory 136-198 
 
 Paradise 199-354 
 
 Dante's Minor Works 255-374 
 
 The " Vita Nuova " 256-363 
 
 The " CoNViTO " 363-266 
 
 " De Vulgari Eloquio " 266-270 
 
 " De Monarchia" 370-274 
 
 Dante's Commentators 375-289 
 
 Dante an Orthodox Catholic 390-398 
 
 Dante and the Pope's Temporal Power .... 299-310 
 
 Dante in English Literature 311-325 
 
 Origin op the Divine Comedy 336-345 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 This work does not and could not profess to be an 
 exhaustive treatment of the life and works of Dante. 
 Composed, as it is in the main, of certain lectures 
 delivered to the students of Maynooth College, it is 
 intended chiefly for those who have neither the time 
 nor the inclination to become specialists in the study 
 of the " Divina Commedia". The number of those 
 who wish to acquire some practical knowledge of one 
 of the greatest productions of the Middle Ages is un- 
 doubtedly on the increase. Such a knowledge can be 
 obtained, no doubt, from the numerous translations of 
 Dante's great poem which now abound throughout 
 the English speaking world. Yet, without any dis- 
 paragement of translations, whether in prose or verse, 
 it must, we think, be admitted that an introduction 
 of some kind to the poem is useful if not essential, 
 and that its utility is almost as great in the case of 
 English translations as of the original text. We have 
 met a good many students who were repelled by the 
 English versions ; and it must not be forgotten that 
 such eminent writers as Sir Walter Scott and Cardinal 
 Newman could not make their way through Cary's 
 translation, and practically abandoned their attempts 
 to master the "Divine Comedy" on account of their 
 
X PREFACE. 
 
 antipathy to the medium in which it was offered to 
 them. Our object, therefore, is not to supplant but 
 to supplement translations, and to give to those who 
 are studying the " Divine Comedy " for the first time, 
 either in English or in the original, a general view 
 of the work and a brief explanation of some of its 
 more important details. We touch on the poet's life 
 and on his minor works only in so far as they serve 
 to throw light on the great monument of his genius 
 which succeeding ages regard with ever increasing 
 interest and veneration. Objection might well be 
 taken, on this account, to the title we have assumed 
 for the volume as it stands ; but, as the more obvious 
 titles had been appropriated by others, we had little 
 choice in the selection. 
 
 We have in the course of this volume paid a full 
 tribute to various English works on Dante which serve 
 to commend his poem and make it better known. The 
 great fault we have to find with most works of the kind 
 is that they take too much for granted. They impose 
 too much that is recondite and learned and make too 
 little allowance for the shortcomings of the uninitiated. 
 We are well aware that such works are not expected 
 even by their authors to reach the general public, and 
 that they look for appreciation to only a comparatively 
 restricted circle. This is the best proof that they do 
 not fully meet the demand which a wider interest in 
 the subject has created. 
 
 French writers, like French professors, have the 
 gift of lucidity and the faculty of adapting themselves 
 without effort to the needs of those whom they 
 
PREFACE. xi 
 
 seek to enlighten. The gift is rarer in England and 
 Germany. We do not mean to imply that more has 
 not been done during the present century in England 
 and Germany than in France for the critical elucidation 
 of the " Divine Comedy " ; but we think that what has 
 been done in France is better calculated to secure the 
 interest of the public, and above all to facilitate the 
 work of those who take up the study of the " Divine 
 Comedy " for the first time. 
 
 It is not easy to say where one should draw the 
 line of comment and explanation in order to secure 
 the initial interest of which we speak. A great deal 
 must depend upon the education and culture of those 
 who are addressed. One thing is certain, that no 
 matter how far we may be inclined to go in the 
 exposition of the philosophical and theological sense 
 of Dante's verse, we ought never seek to withdraw 
 it from its context, or to keep in the background the 
 literary form in which it is set ; for if Dante's work 
 endures it is because he gave it the shape and the 
 life. He delivered it over to the world as a literary 
 performance. As such it should be read ; as such 
 it should be judged ; as such, above all, it should 
 be studied by those who take it up during the early 
 years of their college life. As they grow older 
 its fuller sense will gradually expand within their 
 minds. So it is with all the great masterpieces of 
 literature. 
 
 Our best thanks are due to the Rev. H. S. Bowden, 
 of the Oratory, who kindly looked over our proofs ; to 
 the Hon. William Warren Vernon, who was good 
 
xii PREFACE. 
 
 enough to allow us to make use of the prose version of 
 the text which he has given in his " Readings from the 
 ' Inferno' and ' Purgatorio ' " ; and to Mr. Charles Eliot 
 Norton, of Harvard University, in the United States, 
 who very kindly allowed us to make a similar use of 
 his translation of the " Paradiso ". Wherever we have 
 introduced verse translations we have drawn indiscri- 
 minately on Gary, Wright,' Longfellow and Plumptre. 
 
 It should be understood that, in the narrative 
 system which we have followed in the exposition of 
 the " Divine Comedy," we are giving merely a de- 
 scriptive account of the contents of each part. Our 
 own comments, interspersed as they are through the 
 poet's narrative, touch only the salient features of each 
 canto. We might have made them far more prolix 
 and have quoted on almost every point number- 
 less opinions and authorities ; but we doubt if we 
 should thereby have made them more useful or more 
 exact. 
 
 The fact that we have passed over in silence the 
 authenticity of the treatise " De Aqua et Terra" does 
 not by any means imply that we fail to realise its 
 importance. As we believe the work to be spurious it 
 had no right to a place in our volume. Dr. Moore's 
 defence has not shaken our conviction ; and we hope 
 to find some favourable opportunity of showing that 
 Dr. Moore can be met even on his own ground. 
 
 St. Patrick's College, 
 Maynooth, October i, i8gg 
 
THE LIFE OF DANTE. 
 
 Of no poet, ancient or modern, can it be more truly said than 
 of Dante that his life is reflected iii his works. Others present 
 themselves to us chiefly as the authors of the scenes they 
 depict and the creators of the types they delineate. Dante 
 lives and acts before us from beginning to end. The stamp 
 of his personal character and history is indelibly marked on 
 every canto of his poem. The " Commedia," which is acknow- 
 ledged as the loftiest in its aim and flight of all works of the 
 imagination, is also recognised as the most individual.^ It is 
 not alone that it is marked by the specific touch of genius in 
 the plan, in the treatment, in the numberless details of subject, 
 of measure and of language ; it is stamped in every scene 
 and picture by a seal that differentiates it from all other 
 works. We are conscious all through that we are in presence 
 of a man tried in the crucible of life, of one whose words have 
 been weighed in the balance of a thousand vicissitudes, and 
 whose speculations have been tested by the fulness of earthly 
 experience. We search in vain through the annals of litera- 
 ture for any poet to compare with him either in the tragedy 
 of misfortune, the bitterness of fate, the disappointment of all 
 earthly hopes, or in the dignity with which the severest trials 
 were borne, and the perseverance and genius with which 
 they were turned to the profit of mankind. Petrarch had to 
 struggle against the hardships of poverty and exile ; but the 
 occupations of his life and the frivolous dispositions of his 
 heart made him insensible to anything like deep emotions ; 
 
 • 1 See " Dante and Other Essays." By R. W. Church, p. 4. 
 
 1 
 
2 THE LIFE OF DANTE. 
 
 tlie success, moreover, with which his literary achievements 
 were crowned during his lifetime proved no small compensation 
 for the disappointments and neglect of earlier days. Tasso 
 experienced a tyrant's enmity and a dungeon's gloom, and 
 wrote some of the finest stanzas of the " Jerusalem Delivered " 
 during the lucid intervals of mental disease ; but his old age 
 was comforted by the warm sympathy of friends, and his 
 nature yielded to ill-usage far more pliantly than that of his 
 stern and rigid countryman. Corneille had to wince beneath 
 the haughtiest of frowns and to sustain the protracted hostility 
 of critics who sought to bind his genius in the fetters of the 
 " unities ". He survived his popularity and witnessed the 
 triumph of Racine, his young and graceful rival. Neverthe- 
 less he was conscious to the end that he had defied with 
 success the canons of Aristotle and that he had given to 
 French dramatic poetry a dignity and a strength that it had 
 never known before. The arrows of the host whom jealousy 
 had armed against him left him unscathed ; and in his old 
 age and retirement, weighed down as he was by domestic 
 sorrows, he found comfort in that little book ^ — the pearl of 
 the middle ages — which has brought home to so many disap- 
 pointed mortals the emptiness and the instability of fame. 
 Nearer home to us, Spenser realised in his own person what 
 it was — 
 
 To loose good days that might be better spent, 
 To waste long nights in pensive discontent, 
 To speede to-day, to be put back to-morrow, 
 To feede on hope, to pine with feare and sorrow, 
 To fret thy soul with crosses and with cares, 
 To eat thy heart through comfortless despairs. 
 
 But, whilst disappointed in some of his most cherished 
 hopes, and destined ultimately to succumb before his adverse 
 fortune, the wizard of Kilcolman, " with the turf of Arcady 
 under his feet," knew well how to combine poetry with 
 
 1 " The Imitation of Christ." 
 
THE LIFE OF DANTE. 3 
 
 business, and in the true spirit of a British settler consoled 
 himself in speculations to which, let us hope, the muses were 
 no party. 
 
 Shakespeare had to fight a long battle against "the slings 
 and arrows of outrageous fortune " ; but his triumph was all 
 the sweeter when he reached the goal of fame and flourished 
 in the sunshine of popular and royal favour. Milton, the 
 great blind seer, dictating " Paradise Lost " to an unsym- 
 pathetic daughter ; Burns overturning the daisy with his 
 plough ; Goldsmith wandering on the banks of the Loire or 
 starving in a London garret ; Sir Walter Scott wearing out 
 his genius and his life in the noble effort to pay off what he 
 regarded as a debt of honour ; Byron perishing at the age of 
 thirty-seven in a dismal room at Missolonghi, having left 
 behind him in his native land — 
 
 Nothing that claims a tear. 
 
 These are a few of the most pathetic figures in that illus- 
 trious school to which Dante belonged ; but in the vicissi- 
 tudes of poverty, of courage, or of misfortune they are entirely 
 eclipsed by him. For when we contrast Dante's early life 
 of comfort and happiness, the refined society in the midst 
 of which he grew up, his careful education in all the liberal 
 arts, and his rapid advancement to the summit of political 
 power, with his subsequent career of exile and poverty 
 — his goods confiscated ; his family ruined ; he himself con- 
 demned repeatedly by his fellow-citizens "to be burned until 
 he should be entirely dead " ; all the legitimate hopes of a 
 patriot blighted ; his efforts to retrieve his fortune baffled at 
 every turn ; driven to take shelter at the courts of arrogant 
 princes ; compelled to associate with jesters and buffoons, to 
 experience, in a word, all that is condensed in that cry of his 
 heart : — 
 
 How salt a savour hath 
 The bread of others ; and how hard the path 
 To climb and to descend the stranger's stairs ! 
 
4 THE LIFE OF DANTE. 
 
 and when we reflect that it was in the midst of trials like 
 these — almost the greatest that can fall to the lot of man upon 
 earth — that the " Divine Comedy " was composed, we think 
 that, in the whole kingdom of letters, there is nothing to 
 compare with this triumph of mind over matter, of will over 
 circumstances, of courage and genius over all the difficulties 
 that fate could pile against them. 
 
 The events of such a life must ever command interest of 
 themselves ; but so much of Dante's poem has been deter- 
 mined by his own peculiar history that a knowledge of at least 
 the main incidents of his career becomes a necessity to 
 any one who embarks on the fascinating study of the 
 "Divine Comedy". It is in order to facilitate the study 
 of that wonderful production that we have ventured to con- 
 dense into the following pages a short sketch of his life and 
 times. 
 
 Dante Allighieri was bom in Florence in the year 1265. 
 He was descended from an old and noble family which, 
 in the internal contentions of the Florentines, had sided 
 chiefly with the Guelphs. The best known amongst his 
 ancestors was Cacciaguida, who belonged to an ancient family 
 of the Elisiei, for a long time established at Florence. This 
 Cacciaguida took part in the crusades under Conrad III. of 
 Swabia, and died for his faith. He himself is made by the 
 poet to relate his history in the " Paradiso ".^ He had married 
 a lady of the family of the Aldighieri of Ferrara, in the " Val 
 di Pado ". As there was then in Italy no settled custom for 
 the transmission of names, the only child of this marriage was 
 called, after his mother, Aldighiero or Alligiero, and in course 
 of a few generations the family name became definitely fixed 
 as Allighiero.^ An uncle of the poet, named Brunetto 
 Allighieri, was killed at the battle of Monte Aperti, in 1260. 
 
 1 Canto XV., 136 et seq, 
 
 "The full name would therefore be Dante AUighiero degli Allighieri. 
 See Witte, " Dante-Forschungen," " Dante's Familien-name," vol. ii., p. 22. 
 
THE LIFE OF DANTE. 5 
 
 The poet's father was professor of jurisprudence in his native 
 city. He was not, by any means, one of the leading magnates 
 of Florence ; but he held a position that was both respected 
 and influential. He was married twice : first, to Lapa dei 
 Cialuffi, and afterwards to Bella, the poet's mother, of whose 
 family nothing is known. 
 
 Boccaccio^ tells us that, before Dante's birth, his mother 
 had a dream, in which she foresaw the future greatness of her 
 son, a statement which elicits from Tiraboschi the sceptical 
 remark, that — " such stories obtained credence far more 
 easily in former times than they do now "? The horoscope of 
 the child was drawn by Brunetto Latini, who foretold his 
 glorious destiny, the sun being then in the constellation of the 
 Gemini.^ He was baptised at the church of San Giovanni, 
 and received the name of Durante, which was shortened, for 
 convenience sake, into Dante. Whilst he was still a child his 
 father died, and the responsibility for his education devolved 
 upon his mother, Bella. She does not seem to have long 
 survived her husband ; but she was fortunate enough to secure 
 for her son, before' her death, the protection and tutorship of 
 Brunetto Latini. 
 
 As it seems clear to us that no pupil ever owed more to 
 master for his intellectual training than Dante owed to 
 Brunetto Latini, it becomes necessary here to give some brief 
 account of this notable preceptor. 
 
 Brunetto Latini was the son of Bonacorso, a respected 
 citizen of Florence, and was brought up from his infancy in 
 the love of learning and literature. In the course of his studies 
 
 " " Vita di Dante," p. 2, Edit. Venet. 
 2 " Storia della Lit. Ital.," T.V., p. 713. 
 
 ' Of this fact we have proof in Dante's own words. He puts into the mouth 
 of Brunetto, whom he meets in hell, the prophecy : — 
 
 Se tu segui tua Stella, 
 Non puoi fallire a glorioso porto, 
 Se ben m'accorsi nella vita bella. 
 
6 THE LIFE OF DANTE. 
 
 he had acquired a perfect command of the Latin, Tuscan and 
 French languages. He was looked up to, whilst still a young 
 man, as an orator, a poet, a historian, a philosopher, and even 
 a theologian. He instructed some of the leading citizens of 
 Florence in the principles of political economy. He was 
 employed as the diplomatic agent of the Guelph party in a 
 mission to the King of Castile to solicit assistance against 
 Manfred and the Ghibellines ; but he was unsuccessful, and 
 after the battle of Monte Aperti in 1260, he was condemned 
 to exile. The account which he himself gives us of these 
 incidents in his " Tesoretto " throws a vivid light on the state 
 of learning in his day, and gives us an idea of the great renown 
 which the University of Bologna had acquired in mediaeval 
 Europe. Speaking of his return from his embassy to Spain, 
 he says : — 
 
 Venendo per la calle Ed e' cortesamente 
 
 Del pian di Roncisvalle, Mi disse immantenente 
 
 Incontrai un scolaio, Ch' i' Guelfi di Fiorenza, 
 
 Su 'n un muletto baio, Per mala provedenza, 
 
 Che venia da Bologna, E per forza di guerra, 
 
 Id lo pur domandai Eran fuor della terra 
 
 Novelle di Toscana, E '1 daunagio era forte 
 
 In dolze lingua e plana ; Di pregione e di morte. 
 
 Brunetto then lived for several years in France, during which he 
 composed one of the most important contributions to literature 
 which appeared in the Middle Ages. This work, entitled " Li 
 Tr^sors," is a sort of encyclopedia of the learning then in vogue. 
 Its chief characteristics are its conciseness and its univers- 
 ality. Philosophy, theology, scripture, history, natural sciences, 
 astronomy, the cosmography of the world, all are dealt witk 
 more or less briefly. After the death of Manfred, Brunetto 
 was enabled to return to Florence, where he afterwards lived, 
 occupying some of the highest positions in the government of 
 the republic. In 1269 ^^ became "Dettatore" or Secretary 
 of the Council of State ; in 1284 he was mayor of the city, and 
 in 1287 he was one of the twelve priors. Besides his great 
 
THE LIFE OF DANTE. 7 
 
 French work in prose, Brunetto wrote several minor works, 
 one of which " II Tesoretto," is believed to have suggested to 
 Dante the plan of the "Divine Comedy".^ Why the pupil 
 places his master in hell we shall see later on. At present it 
 will be sufficient to note that Brunetto was no ordinary 
 master. He was not, of course, a professional teacher ; but 
 he willingly devoted himself to the instruction of such well- 
 bred and promising youths as Dante and Guido Cavalcanti, 
 It is no wonder that Villani should say of him that " he was 
 the first to bring culture to the Florentines ".^ 
 
 Under such a tutor the mind of the pupil rapidly developed. 
 He became thoroughly acquainted with Virgil, Horace, Lucan, 
 Ovid and Statius. He could recite, by heart, the whole 
 " .^neid," which was his favourite in the classics. He evidently 
 made acquaintance, at an early age, with the works of the 
 prominent rhymers and popular versifiers of his own day, such 
 as Fra Guittone d'Arezzo, Guido Guinicelli (the head of a 
 school of Bolognese poets who had adopted the Italian 
 language in their verses),^ Cino da Pistoia, poet 
 
 ^ The " Tesoretto " is a moral poem in the form of a vision composed of 
 about seven thousand rhyming verses. It was dedicated to Rustico di Filippo. 
 
 Al Valente signore 
 
 Di cui non so migliore 
 
 Su la terra trovare. 
 
 Brunetto represents himself in it as having lost his senses on learning the 
 news of Monte Aperti and its results, and as missing his way in a forest : — 
 
 Pensando a capo chino 
 
 Perdei il gran cammino 
 E tenni alia traversa 
 
 D'una selva diversa. 
 
 Never would he have been able to extricate himself from the labyrinth of nature 
 and of love, if the poet, Ovid, had not come to rescue him. If this did not 
 suggest to Dante the outline of his poem, it evidently suggested several 
 important details. 
 
 = " Rer. Ital.," xiii., 204. 
 
 " In his work " De Vulgari Eloquio " Dante writefe : " Ita si praeponentes eoe 
 in vulgari sermone sola municipalia Latinorum vulgaria comparando considerant. 
 
8 THE LIFE OF DANTE. 
 
 who afterwards became one of his intimate friends. He ex- 
 plored with indefatigable perseverance, the various dialects of 
 Italy, as his work " De Vulgari Eloquio " amply testifies. Soon, 
 also, he learned to read French and Proven9al, and became 
 acquainted with the epics and the lyric chants of " Trouv6res " 
 and "Troubadours". We find traces either in the "Divine 
 Comedy," or in the " De Vulgari Eloquio," of the " Sirventes " 
 of Sordello, of the lays of Arnauld Daniel and Gerard de 
 Borneil, of the " Chansons de Gestes '' of the Norman bards, 
 of the exploits of Charlemagne and of Roland ; sketches too, 
 of the Celtic legends of King Arthur and his " Knights of 
 the Round Table," of Tristan and Isolde, of Lancelot and 
 Guinevere. 
 
 In more serious studies he was initiated into the secrets of 
 the "Almagest" of Ptolemy, of the "History Against the 
 Pagans," of Paul Orosius, and of the "Natural History" of 
 Pliny. 
 
 Before Dante had reached the end of his ninth year, 
 an event occurred which was destined to exercise an 
 extraordinary influence over his subsequent life. It was 
 customary at Florence to celebrate the return of spring in 
 the early days of the month of May, with much rejoicing, 
 in private houses as well as in the streets and squares of 
 the city. 
 
 " In this way," says Boccaccio,^ " Folco Portinari, a citizen 
 of mark,^ collected his neighbours for pastime and rejoicing. 
 Among these was the above-mentioned Allighieri, and with him, 
 it being common for little children to accompany their parents 
 — especially at merry-makings — came our Dante, then about 
 
 allubescentes concordamus cum illis. Si vero simpliciter vulgare Bononiense, 
 praeferendum existimant, dissentientes discordamus ab eis. Non etenim est 
 quod aulicum et illustre vocamus. Quoniam si fuisset maximus Guido Guinicelli, 
 Guido Ghislerius, Fabricius, et Honestus, et illi poetantes Bononiae, nunquam a 
 primo divertissent, qui doctores fuerunt illustres et vulgarium discretione repleti. 
 
 1 " Vita de Dante." 
 
 ' See Art. by Scartazzini in the " Giornale Dantesco," Ann. I., Quad. III. 
 
THE LIFE OF DANTE. 9 
 
 nine years old, who, with the other children of his own age, 
 ■engaged in the sports appropriate to his years. Among these 
 ■was a little daughter of the aforesaid Folco, called Bice, about 
 «ight years old, very winning, attractive and graceful in her 
 ways, in aspect beautiful, earnest and grave in her speech far 
 beyond her years. This child turned her gaze from time to 
 time on Dante with so much tenderness as filled the boy 
 brimful with delight, and he took her image so deeply into 
 his mind that no subsequent pleasure could ever afterwards 
 extinguish or expel it." ^ 
 
 Bice or Beatrice, we are told by Benvenuto da Imola, was 
 a child " of wonderful beauty, but of greater modesty "? From 
 the first moment that Dante laid eyes upon her, she ruled all 
 his thoughts. 
 
 Love, he tells us, now became lord of his soul and held 
 sovereign empire over him. It is clear, however, from the 
 description he gives of this passion in the "Vita Nuova," 
 written after the death of Beatrice, that it was no common- 
 place, sensual love. He requires the language of the Psalmist 
 to describe it. It is whilst listening to a discourse on the 
 Queen of Glory that it overpowers him. In his sonnets it is 
 her humility, her courtesy, her look benign he praises most.' 
 This is so remarkable that some writers, like Biscioni, have 
 gone so far as to deny the very existence of Beatrice, and to 
 assert that she was as purely ideal a fiction as Ariel or Urania. 
 Others hold that Dante's love was the mere expression of 
 chivalry. Ozanam* reminds us of the great part women 
 played in the establishment of Christianity, from the Roman 
 virgins who faced the lions of the Coliseum to the Countess 
 
 • See also Fauriel, " Dante at Les Origines de la Langue et de la Lit. Ital- 
 iennes," vol. i., pp. 143, 144. 
 
 ' Miiae pulchiitudinis sed majoiis honestatis. 
 
 ' See "The Vita Nuova of Dante". By Sir Theodore Martin, K.C.B., ^ 
 pp. 60, 61. 
 
 4 "Oeuvres Completes," vol. vi., pp. 388, 389. 
 
10 THE LIFE OF DANTE. 
 
 Matilda, who supported with her chaste hands the tottering 
 throne of Gregory VII. ; of St. Jerome dedicating the Vulgate 
 to two pious Roman ladies, Paula and Eustochia ; of St. Basil 
 and St. Benedict confiding a share in their labours to Macrina 
 and Scolastica. He then reminds us that chivalry at its origin 
 was a sacred institution, whose members bound themselves by 
 vows to defend the widow and the orphan, the injured spouse, 
 the helpless princess. The career of arms was thus ennobled 
 by disinterested motives. Sensual instincts were curbed by 
 the restraints of honour. Manly virtue was strengthened 
 by being exercised in the defence of a noble cause, and 
 girded, as it was, with the armour of justice and right, it 
 sought its reward in the favour and notice of those in whose 
 service it had been displayed. 
 
 This, he thinks, was the love that existed between Dante 
 and Beatrice. For the poet was a soldier in his early days ; and 
 the spirit of Provence and its troubadours held him completely 
 under its spell. Whilst making all allowances, however, for the 
 influence of the prevalent notions of the age, we think there was 
 always underneath the chivalrous love and the allegorical love, 
 if it may be so described, a natural sentiment which gave birth 
 to all the rest, and on which the whole fabric of allegory 
 and chivalry was based. She is thus at once the lady of his 
 mind ^ and the lady of his heart ; but, as she develops into 
 the allegorical figure of grace and theology, she brings him 
 in the fullest sense " from slavery to freedom " ; she raises 
 him " above the common herd ". She is not " the daughter 
 of mortal man but of God"; her love "guides him to every 
 virtue," subdues his pride and tames his anger. In a double 
 sense we may, therefore, understand him when he tells us 
 that he hopes to say of her what never yet was said of any 
 
 ' "La gloriosa donna della mia mente." 
 
 ^ Spero di dire di lei quello che mai non fu detto d'alcuna. 
 
THE LIFE OF DANTE. II 
 
 We are assured on good authority^ that Dante in his 
 youth attended the Universities of Padua and Bologna, going, 
 like most young men of his class, through the course of the 
 trivium and quadrivium. It is believed that at Bologna he 
 heard lectures on canon and civil law, and on the ethics and 
 metaphysics of Aristotle. Brunetto Latini, who was himself 
 a universalist in the pursuit of knowledge, communicated to 
 his pupil his own aptitudes and tastes. Everything interested 
 him. All nature was called upon to deliver up its secrets. 
 It was now undoubtedly that he laid the foundation of that 
 vast knowledge which his works display. Omne ens scibile was 
 the object of his pursuit ; birds, quadrupeds, trees, minerals, 
 water and fire, form and substance, motion and change, were 
 examined and considered in all their attributes and qualities, 
 by personal study and investigation as well as through the 
 experience of the wisest sages that had gone before. 
 
 But one of the purest charms of Dante's character was his 
 ardent and unchanging love for the fine arts. This was the one 
 serene comfort that never failed him even in his worst days. 
 Liberty and even life might be taken from him ; but this treasure,, 
 which had become part of his soul, no man could take. It 
 was in his young days this taste was developed and cultivated. 
 Many passages ^ in the " Divine Comedy " bear out the asser- 
 tion of Leonardo Aretino and of Boccaccio that Dante loved 
 and understood music, both vocal and instrumental. Casella,. 
 whom he introduces into purgatory, was one of his most 
 intimate friends, and had, according to some commentators,, 
 set the poet's songs to music. Belacqua, the singer and guitar 
 maker, whom he also meets in purgatory, in his characteristic 
 posture of laziness, was also an old acquaintance. It is pro- 
 bable that he was personally acquainted with the contem- 
 porary painters whom he mentions in the "Divine Comedy" 
 
 ' Benvenuto da Imola says : — " In verde et^ vaco alia filosofia naturale in 
 Firenze, Bologna e Padova". — "Aut. Ital." T.I., pp. 1036, 1135. 
 "^ " Hell," in., 22 ; " Purg.," ii., 45 ; " Purg.," viii., ig. 
 
!2 , THE LIFE OF DANTE. 
 
 — Cimabue, Oderigi da Gobbio, Franco Bolognese. We know 
 for certain that he was a friend of Giotto, who gave him 
 hospitahty at Padua, and painted his portrait in the chapel 
 of the Podesti in Florence. Leonardo^ informs us that 
 Dante himself actually excelled in the art of painting, and 
 several passages in the " Purgatorio " and the " Vita Nuova " 
 would seem to confirm the statement. Arnolfo, the famous 
 architect of Santa Croce and Santa Maria del Fiore, seems 
 also to have been one of his friends. 
 
 Some Greek words occur in his works, and to many com- 
 mentators it has seemed impossible that the poet who spoke 
 of Homer as soaring like an eagle beyond all writers of verse, 
 and of Aristotle as the " master of the learned " of all times, 
 should have been ignorant of their language and incapable of 
 reading them at first hand. Blanc, however, seems to us to 
 have clearly proved that Dante knew nothing of Greek, and 
 that all his specific references either to the Greek language or 
 to Greek authors are based on knowledge derived from Virgil, 
 Horace and Ovid, and from whatever translations of Greek 
 works he may have come across during the course of his 
 university career.^ 
 
 There are also some Hebrew words introduced into the 
 " Paradiso ". It is possible that through his intercourse at Rome 
 with the learned Jew, Imanuel Ben Salome,^ he may have 
 acquired there some knowledge of the Semitic languages. 
 But for Dante the charms of literature surpassed all others. 
 Villani, the historian, was his contemporary and in all pro- 
 bability his friend.* Dino Compagni, who has also left a 
 ■chronicle of his times, worked side by side with the poet and 
 
 ' " Vita di Dante," p. 48. 
 
 ^ " Saggio di Una Interpretazione Filologica di parecchi Passi Oscuri e 
 Controversi della Divina Commedia," pp. 140, 141. 
 
 ' Plumptre's " Dante," vol. i., p. 74. See also Witte's Essay in his " Dante 
 Forschungen," vol. ii., " Wusste Dante Hebraisch ". 
 
 * Villani says : " Questo Dante fu onorevole e antico cittadino di Firenze, 
 -di porta San Pietro e nostro vicino," ix., 136. 
 
THE LIFE OF DANTE. 13 
 
 was his colleague in public life. But his dearest friend was 
 Guido Cavalcanti. Guido was a genial and cultivated man, 
 a poet and litterateur. He was well connected in the city, 
 having married a daughter of the famous Farinata degli 
 Uberti. Although his father was an Epicurean philosopher, 
 and Guido himself an ardent Ghibelline and Liberal, he was 
 nevertheless a most amiable man, and they were to one 
 another as David and Jonathan, as Pylades and Orestes, as 
 Tennyson and Hallam. It was to him that Dante addressed 
 his first work, the " Vita Nuova ". They were so constantly 
 together that Guido's father, whom Dante meets in hell, 
 expresses surprise that he is not accompanied by his 
 son. 
 
 The other contemporary poets with whom he had most 
 intimate relations were Dante of Maiano, Guido Guinicelli, 
 Cino da Pistoia, and Dino Frescobaldi, all of whom are well 
 known in the literature of the thirteenth century.^ 
 
 Before he entered public life in Florence, Dante went for 
 some time to the University of Paris to extend his knowledge 
 and culture generally, but particularly to complete his studies 
 in theology and philosophy. It is on this occasion also that 
 he is said to have visited Oxford. The question, however, 
 of Dante's having ever studied in the great English univer- 
 sity is to us something more than doubtful. 
 
 The late Mr. Gladstone, with all the ingenuity of which he 
 was a master, marshalled the arguments in Oxford's favour in 
 an article published in the Nineteenth Century in 1892. He 
 quotes the extrinsic authority of Boccaccio ^ and of Serravalle. 
 Boccaccio, as everybody knows, was given to exaggeration and 
 embellishment. Facts troubled him but little. Besides, he 
 does not mention Oxford at all. The testimony of Giovanni 
 
 ^ See " Dante and his Circle," by D. G. Rossetti. 
 
 ^ Boccaccio in a letter to Petrarch says that Dante having been carried by 
 Apollo over the heights of Parnassus, then visited " Parisios dudum extremosque 
 Brittanos ". 
 
14 THE LIFE OF DANTE. 
 
 ■da Serravalle^ is worthy of more notice. This prelate was 
 Bishop and Prince of Fermo, and, in that capacity, assisted at 
 the Council of Constance in 141 5. He was there requested by 
 the Cardinal Archbishop of Saluzzo and two English bishops, 
 Bubwith of Bath and Hallam of Salisbury, to translate into 
 Latin prose the " Divine Comedy " of Dante. To this request 
 the bishop acceded, and it is in the preface to his work the 
 statement is categorically made for the first time that Dante 
 studied at Oxford. Jacopo della Lana, Graziuola Bambaglioli, 
 Benvenuto da Imola, the author of the " Ottimo Commento," 
 had all come and gone, but no reference was made by them 
 to a visit to England at this or any other period of Dante's 
 life. Hallam, we are told, was Chancellor of Oxford, and 
 was probably aware of some tradition in the university re- 
 garding the poet's sojourn there. That may be quite true ; 
 but there is not an iota of evidence to prove it or even to 
 suggest it except the statement of Serravalle. Then of course 
 there are intrinsic arguments. Dante refers to Douai, Ghent, 
 Lille, Bruges, and to the port of Wissant in Flanders ; he 
 speaks of the heart that — 
 
 Still is honoured on the banks of Thames.^ 
 
 He alludes to the quarrel between Edward I. and Robert 
 Bruce (" Par.," xix., 12), to the disputes between Henry H. and 
 his son (" Inf.," xxviii., 134), and to Henry III., " the king of the 
 
 ' Dilexit Theologiam Sacram, in qui diu studuit, tam in Oxoniis in regno 
 Angliae, quam Parisiis in regno Francise. Dantes se in juventute dedit omnibus 
 artibus liberaUbus, studens eas Paduse, Bononiae demum Oxoniis et Parisiis, ubi 
 fecit multos actus mirabiles ; in tantum quod ab aliquibus dicebatur magnus 
 Philosophus, ab aliquibus magnus Theologus, ab aliquibus magnus Poeta. 
 
 ^ Lo cuor che in su'l Tamigi ancor si cola. 
 The heart of Prince Henry of Cornwall, who was murdered when receiving Holy 
 Communion at the altar in the church of San Silvestro at Viterbo, in 1271, by 
 Guy de Montfort, son of Simon, Earl of Leicester. It was brought to England 
 in a golden vase and placed in the shrine of St. Edward the Confessor, in West- 
 minster Abbey. Guy was prompted by revenge for the death of his father, who 
 fell at the battle of Evesham. 
 
THE LIFE OF DANTE. 15 
 
 simple life " ; but surely it cannot be seriously contended that 
 a man of Dante's education and wide reading, the pupil of an 
 accomplished and cultivated scholar like Brunetto Latini, the 
 poet whose work is replete with references to the history and 
 the manners of all sorts of peoples, ancient and modern, who 
 had heard of the Southern Cross and of the pillars of Hercules, 
 of Ceuta and of Seville, could not have secured in all his ex- 
 perience of men and books the few references to England and 
 to the towns in the north of France and the south of Flanders, 
 which he has introduced into his poem, unless he had person- 
 ally inspected them. 
 
 " There was," writes Mr. Gladstone, " one beaten path, and 
 one only, between England and France. It set out from 
 Paris ; it ended in Oxford. We shall surely not be told that 
 if he went to Oxford we do not know why he went thither. 
 He did not go to saunter by the Isis, or to scale the heights 
 of Shotover. He went to haunts already made illustrious 
 (to cite no other names) by Roger Bacon, by Grossetete, 
 and by Bradwardine. He went to refresh his thirst at a fast- 
 swelling fountainhead of knowledge, and to imp the wings 
 by which he was to mount so high, that few have ever 
 soared above him, into the empyrean of celestial wisdom." 
 If this be the fact, how is it that Dante never makes the 
 remotest reference throughout his work either to Oxford or to 
 any of its illustrious teachers ? He makes no mention what- 
 ever of those whom Mr. Gladstone names ; but, stranger still, 
 he does not even mention Duns Scotus or William of Ockham. 
 Dean Plumptre goes even so far as to say that Dante must 
 have sojourned at Glastonbury. Why not at St. Patrick's 
 Purgatory ? 
 
 To us it seems certain that, if Dante had ever visited 
 England, not to speak of Oxford, we should find the traces of 
 so important and so unusual a journey deeply and unmistak- 
 ably wrought on the monument he has left behind. 
 
 That Dante studied at the University of Paris is, on the 
 
16 THE LIFE OF DANTE. 
 
 other hand, quite certain. He even came there a second 
 time to clear up some questions in theology that were to 
 be touched on in the " Purgatorio " and " Paradiso ".^ It was, 
 however, on the first occasion that he came forward to sustain 
 with the usual solemnity his theological " disputa," at which 
 he answered without interruption on fourteen questions taken 
 from different subjects, and proposed with arguments for and 
 against by the ablest doctors. He also commented publicly 
 the Master of the Sentences and the Holy Scriptures, under- 
 going all the tests and facing all the " pericula " of the 
 faculty of theology. When called to receive the doctor's 
 degree, he had not a sufficient amount of money to defray 
 the expenses oi his reception, insignificant as they were. 
 Ozanam following Leclerc takes it for granted that Sigier de 
 Brabant was Dante's teacher. That, however, has been dis- 
 posed of by Delisle and Gaston Paris. Two translations of 
 Aristotle, a few dialogues of Plato, St. Augustine, St. Gregory 
 the Great, Avicenna, and the work " De Causis," St. Bernard, 
 Richard of St. Victor, St. Thomas Aquinas, and Aegidius 
 Colonna — these were the guides that led him into the most 
 secret regions of philosophy and theology.^ 
 
 In such occupations were the youthful years of Dante 
 spent. "Though he did not belong to the richest class of 
 citizens," says Leonardo Aretino, " yet he was not poor. He 
 had a small patrimony sufficient to maintain an honourable 
 position, some fine houses in Florence, property in Camerata, 
 Piacenza, and Piano di Napoli, abundant and costly plate. 
 In appearance he was of noble bearing, graceful and dignified, 
 with an agreeable countenance. He spoke rarely and slowly, 
 and was very subtle in his answers. And although he was a 
 scholar, he did not therefore withdraw himself from the world, 
 
 1 See Art. in 21st vol. of " Hist. Lit. de la France," by M. Victor Leclerc ; 
 also " La Poesie du Moyen Age," Gaston Paris. Chapter on Sigier de Brabant. 
 
 ' For a detailed account of the sources of Dante's knowledge see the excel- 
 lent " Studies in Dante " of Dr. Edward Moore, Principal of St. Edmund's Hall, 
 Oxford. Clarendon Press, i8g6, 1899. 
 
THE LIFE OF DANTE. 17 
 
 but associated freely with other young men, and excelled in 
 their exercises. And it is wonderful how, though he was 
 always studying, yet he never seemed to do so, but lived 
 pleasantly with his companions.^ 
 
 To understand the maturer developments of the poet's 
 life it will be necessary to cast backward a glance over the 
 history of his native land previous to the date at which his 
 public career begins. Here, of course, we are necessarily pre- 
 cluded from entering into the civil history of Italy except in 
 so far as it may tend to throw light either upon the life of the 
 author or upon the composition or subject-matter of his works. 
 Indeed, we can but refer in the most summary fashion to 
 the great historical events which shaped his life and helped, 
 however remotely, to cast his patriotism in so peculiar a mould. 
 
 From the fall of the Roman Empire down to the end of 
 the thirteenth century Italy was not only torn asunder by 
 internal factions, but cruelly persecuted and oppressed by the 
 invasions of her northern neighbours. The terrible chiefs who 
 followed the fortunes of Alboin first scourged the plains of 
 Lombardy, and established their authority over the inhabi- 
 tants of that fertile province. Charlemagne came next with 
 his knights and barons and feudal administration ; but his 
 enlightened rule soon degenerated under his successors 
 into tyranny and oppression. Then began that series of 
 invasions from beyond the Rhine, under the Othos, the 
 Conrads, the Hohenstaufens, which brought upon Italy cen- 
 turies of misery, and which culminated in the despotic sway 
 of Frederick Barbarossa and of his son Henry VI., the 
 " Cyclops of Sicily ". During these long and troubled years 
 there were not wanting in Italy itself traitors and sycophants, 
 who sought with selfish aims to prop up the German estab- 
 lishment, and impose on the people the yoke of Saxon law 
 
 1 " Leon. Aret. Vita di Dante e del Petrarca," p. 21, and Boccaccio, " Vita 
 di Dante," pp. 37, 39. To which observation Leonardo adds the caustic 
 remark ; " Ed io non vidi mai niuno di questi cammussati e rimossi della 
 conversazione delli uomini che sapesse tre lettere". 
 
 2 
 
18 THE LIFE OF DANTE. 
 
 and administration. The popes, on the other hand, re- 
 sisted steadily and persistently the encroachments of these 
 foreigners. Were it not for their energy and patriotism the 
 German Emperors would have surely prevailed. In that long 
 and weary contest the Holy See undoubtedly proved itself the 
 mainstay of Italian freedom. Innocent III. was particularly 
 successful in stemming the tide of invasion and oppression. 
 On the .death of the Emperor, Henry VI., there were rival 
 claimants for the imperial crown : Otho of Brunswick, who 
 belonged to the family of Welfen or Guelphs, and Philip of 
 Swabia, of the Weiblingen or Ghibellines. The Pope sup- 
 ported the claims of the former, to the great joy of the Italian 
 people, who proclaimed themselves enthusiastic Guelphs, whilst 
 a few of their countrymen, chiefly among the lords of the aris- 
 tocracy and former officials of the imperial power, cast their 
 influence in favour of the Ghibellines. This was the origin of 
 that disastrous division into rival factions which kept Italy in 
 turmoil and misery for centuries afterwards. 
 
 The death of Philip in 1208 cleared all obstacles from 
 Otho's path ; and now, unmindful of the Pope's assistance, he 
 at once set about asserting in the usual German style his 
 imperial prerogatives in Italy. The strong character of 
 Innocent was alone able to cope with his attempts and keep 
 him within bounds. A last great effort was made by Otho's 
 son, Frederick II., aided by the cruel and turbulent Ezzelino, 
 to effect the definite conquest of Italy ; but, once more, a 
 great pope, Innocent IV. fSinibaldo Freschij, organised the 
 irresistible movement which put an end for ever to imperial 
 domination in Italy ; for the shadow of power wielded by 
 Frederick's son, Conrad, was of little account, and the young 
 Conradino neVer secured even the crown of Sicily. 
 
 The brightest epoch of Italy's history now began with the 
 fall of imperialism. Though it had left on the soil the seeds 
 of faction and strife its crushing oppression was no longer felt, 
 whilst great and noble efforts were made by the people to rise 
 
THE LIFE OF DANTE. 19 
 
 from the ruins of conquest and long-continued warfare to a 
 new life of industry and progress. 
 
 Even while the German occupation lasted, and during the 
 intervals of peace which shone upon the land, now in one 
 corner and now in another, cities and communities often 
 grouped themselves together and formed into a defensive 
 alliance for mutual protection and assistance. These now 
 grew into self-ruling and flourishing republics whose towns 
 and cities became soon renowned for wealth and enterprise 
 as well as for artistic beauty. 
 
 Florence supplied the world with her woollen goods. 
 Milan furnished arms to all the princes of Europe. Genoa 
 and Venice crowded every port with their galleys and every 
 market with their merchandise. The art of banking, the 
 establishment of universities, the organisation of a postal 
 service, of mining, smelting, weaving, engineering; the Gothic 
 architecture and the first masterpieces of the pencil and the 
 brush, received an impulse which moved them on through an 
 age of incomparable material progress, an age, too, of poetry 
 and letters, during which, as Hallam remarks, " Italy dis- 
 played an intellectual superiority over the Transalpine nations 
 which certainly had not appeared since the destruction of the 
 Roman Empire ".^ 
 
 All would have gone well had not the ambition of some 
 of the new princes sought to subject the Papacy, and make of 
 it a mere instrument for the furtherance of their selfish aims. 
 The Pope was, in these days, the recognised suzerain of the 
 kingdom of the two Sicilies, and, although he opposed the 
 claims of Conrad to its crown on account of his own 
 and his father's violence and cruelty, he consented, after this 
 prince's death, in the interests of peace and good govern- 
 ment, to make over the kingdom to Conrad's youthful son, 
 Conradino. He accordingly appointed Manfred, an uncle of 
 the young prince, as regent during his minority. 
 
 1 " State of Europe During the Middle Ages," vol. i., p. 193. 
 
20 THE LIFE OF DANTE. 
 
 But Manfred proved faithless to his trust and made an 
 effort to hold the kingdom for himself.^ To the remonstrances 
 of the Pope he answered by violence, and made open war on 
 the papal territory, at the head of a band of Saracen mercen- 
 aries. To reduce and punish this rebellious traitor, Pope 
 Clement IV. granted the kingdom in fief to Charles of Anjou, 
 brother of Louis IX., King of France. Near the city of 
 Benevento, in 1266, the Duke of Anjou fought the famous 
 battle which delivered Naples and Sicily into his hands. 
 Manfred, who displayed great bravery, was killed in the thick 
 of the fight. But, unfortunately, this victory only put an end 
 to one tyrant in order to set up another. The Duke of Anjou 
 became as famous for cruelty and fraud as his brother had 
 become for sanctity and justice. One of his first deeds was to 
 put to death, at the age of sixteen, the unfortunate young 
 Conradino, the last of the Hohenstaufens, " the one unguilty 
 of a guilty race," and this, in spite of the renewed and earnest 
 protests of the Pope. His new subjects, ground down beneath 
 his despotic sway, hated and despised their king. The Holy 
 See had no more reason to be pleased with him than those 
 over whom he ruled. But the day of retribution was close at 
 hand. Peter of Aragon, a Spanish prince who was married 
 to Constance, the eldest daughter of Manfred, resolved to 
 have revenge for the death of his young kinsman, Conradino. 
 For this purpose he planned an expedition to Sicily. He was 
 urged on to the project by Giovanni da Procida,^ a knight of 
 Salerno, whose estates had been plundered by the French for 
 his support of Conradino, and who now set to work to 
 organise the conspiracy which put an end to French rule in 
 Sicily. All was to have been kept secret till the moment 
 should have been ripe for action. Events, however, were 
 precipitated in a manner altogether unforeseen. 
 
 ^ See " Life of Joanna, Queen of Naples "- London : Baldwin, Craddock & 
 Jy, 1824, vol. i., p. 8. 
 
 " Sismondi, " Histoire des R^publiques Italiennes," vol. iii., pp. 456, 473. 
 
THE LIFE OF DANTE. 2] 
 
 It was on the evening of Easter Monday, or Tuesday, 
 1282, that a licentious French soldier, under pretence of 
 searching for arms, which the natives were forbidden to carry, 
 offered insult to a Sicilian maiden on her way to church. The 
 indignant friends of the offended lady rushed at once to punish 
 her assailant. The dispute quickly spread, and was taken up 
 by the whole population, only too eager to join in any attack 
 on the foreigners. It was a bright southern everting, and the 
 people had all gone forth to enjoy the breezes of their balmy 
 atmosphere ; the bells of the city were ringing for vespers, 
 when suddenly the bands of men, prepared for the emergency 
 by Giovanni da Procida, appeared, armed with poniards and 
 swords. Everywhere was heard the cry of " Death to the 
 French ". The followers of Anjou were either massacred or 
 compelled to fly. The flame of passion soon spread to 
 Trapani, Girgenti and Syracuse. No quarter was given to 
 the unfortunate victims. They were slaughtered like the 
 sons of Ephraim by the soldiers of Galaad on the banks of 
 the Jordan. In a month there was scarcely a Frenchman left 
 in Sicily. The fleet that came to recover the island was 
 captured by the famous admiral, Roger di Loria, who, like 
 Da Procida, was a Neapolitan nobleman whose estates had 
 been confiscated. Three years later Charles of Anjou died in 
 misery and disappointment at home in Provence. This 
 massacre of the " Sicilian Vespers," as it was afterwards 
 called, infused new hopes into the Ghibellines of Italy.^ 
 
 In the midst of these changing fortunes Florence had, on 
 the whole, enjoyed a tranquil existence. Her history offers 
 little of special significance till the beginning of the thirteenth 
 century, when feuds were ripening and factions assuming 
 definite shape. Frederick II., in his efforts to subjugate 
 Tuscany, had established there an aristocratic constitution, 
 which placed the government almost entirely in the hands of 
 
 1 Perceval's " History of Italy," vol. i., p. 260. 
 
22 THE LIFE OF DANTE. 
 
 the imperial nobles. In 1250 the people rose in revolt 
 against the usurpers, whom they replaced by the " Signoria," 
 or council of twelve ancients, elected each year, and govern- 
 ing, two in their turn, for two months at a time. The 
 imperialists could have lived in peace under this new govern- 
 ment ; but from outside and from within, plots and con- 
 spiracies were fomented amongst them, till their presence 
 became so dangerous to the constitution that their leaders 
 were expelled in 1258. Farinata degli Uberti, the guiding 
 spirit amongt them, retired to Sienna, which was almost the 
 only fortress of imperialism then remaining in Tuscany. He 
 was well received by the Siennese, and, having secured the 
 assistance of Manfred of Naples, he resolved to take revenge 
 on the Guelphs of Florence. He therefore sent word to 
 "his beloved fellow-citizens" that if they would come to 
 capture Sienna he was prepared to throw open its gates and 
 betray it into their hands. The Florentines were guilty 
 enough to accept his treacherous proposal, and sent forward 
 their army into the very snare which their banished towns- 
 man had laid for them. Farinata, who was lying in ambush 
 on the road with a combined force of Germans, Neapolitans 
 and Siennese, fell upon them at Monte Aperti, on the banks 
 of the Arbia, and cut them to pieces. Here was committed 
 that horrible carnage of which the scornful Farinata speaks in 
 the " Inferno" (canto xx.). 
 
 Lo strazio e'l grande scempio 
 Che fece I'Arbia colorata in rosso. 
 
 The Ghibelline leaders immediately returned to Florence, 
 and proceeded under Count Guido Novello to organise the 
 city government on imperial lines, and as a matter of course 
 to banish their opponents. It was on this occasion that 
 Dante's father, an ardent Guelph, was sent into exile. 
 
 The Guelphs, however, remained always predominant in 
 numbers, and were soon able to recover their lost ground, and 
 
THE LIFE OF DANTE. 23 
 
 to recall their banished brethren. They took the lead in the 
 formation of the league of Tuscan cities which aimed at the 
 independence of Italy. In 1282 they laid down the ground- 
 work of the democratic constitution which became a source of 
 such prosperity to their republic. 
 
 The trading and mercantile population of the city was 
 divided into three sections, called the greater, the middle and 
 the lesser arts. Each of these sections was composed of 
 several guilds. The first included the judges and notaries, 
 the physicians and apothecaries, the furriers, the silk mer- 
 cers, the wool merchants, the manufacturing drapers and 
 the money-changers. The second was composed of the 
 butchers, the bootmakers, the builders and stonemasons, and 
 the secondhand clothes-dealers. The third was made up of 
 innkeepers, vintners, tanners, carpenters, locksmiths, bakers, 
 armourers and leather-sellers. 
 
 According to the new constitution all share in govern- 
 ment was confined to those who were enrolled in one of the 
 seven " greater arts ". From these alone were chosen the 
 " Priori delle Arti," twelve in number, selected each year, and 
 governing two in their turn for a term of two months. In 
 1292 a still more democratic change was made by Giano 
 della Bella.^ The nobles, for the sake of acquiring power, had 
 recourse to the strategem of inscribing themselves in the 
 guilds of the greater arts ; and it was now laid down in the 
 " Ordinamenti della Guistizia" that thirty-three of the chief 
 families should be excluded altogether from any public office, 
 and that the remaining nobles should be bona fide practi- 
 tioners in the arts to which they belonged, if they wished to 
 gain access to supreme authority. A gonfaloniere of justice 
 was appointed with a guard of 4000 men to see to the execu- 
 tion of these decrees. 
 
 Whilst these events were taking place in Florence faction 
 and strife were making headway at Pisa. After a naval 
 
 ' Sismondi, " Histoire des Republiques Italiennes, vol. iv., 60, 627. 
 
24, THE LIFE OF DANTE. 
 
 struggle with the Genoese/ in which they were badly worsted, 
 the Pisans agreed to place at the head of their government 
 Count Ugolino della Gherardesca, who, although a Ghibelline 
 by birth, had secured the favour of the Guelphs in Pisa and 
 the surrounding cities of Tuscany. But Ugolino turned out 
 to be a violent and passionate governor, and his tyrannical 
 proceedings soon brought him into odium with all parties. 
 One day the people, complaining of the high price of bread 
 and other necessaries, sent representatives to their governor to 
 ask him to relieve them of some of their burdens. The better 
 to propitiate Ugolino one of his own nephews was prevailed 
 upon to introduce the petitioners and act as their spokesman ; 
 but so ungovernable was the passion of the tyrant that he 
 struck the young man on the arm with a poniard, and would 
 have killed him were it not for the interference of the by- 
 standers. One of these, a nephew of the Archbishop, Rug- 
 gieri degli Ubaldini, remonstrated with Ugolino, at which the 
 furious Count seized an axe that was near him, flung it at the 
 head of the youth, and stretched him dead at his feet. The 
 archbishop, who strangely enough belonged to the Ghibel- 
 line party, had now personal as well as political motives 
 of hostility towards Ugolino. He gathered his followers 
 around him, and with the assistance of the powerful families 
 of the Gualandi, the Sismondi and Lanfranchi, succeeded 
 after a fierce struggle in making Ugolino prisoner. Ugolino, 
 according to his own story (" Inf.," canto xxxii.), had obtained 
 from Ruggieri a promise of honourable treatment, which pro- 
 mise was treacherously broken. He was confined in the 
 tower of the Gualandi with his two sons, Gaddo and Uggu- 
 cione, and his two grandsons, Nino and Anselmuccio. The 
 fate of these five unhappy prisoners is one of the most cruel 
 tragedies on record. When the celebrated Ghibelline soldier, 
 
 ' Ugolino is said to have betrayed his own flag in this battle ; yet he was 
 so powerful and so well connected that the Pisans had to make him their 
 governor. 
 
THE LIFE OF DANTE. 25 
 
 Guido da Montefeltro, was on his way to take up the com- 
 mand in Pisa, Ruggieri had the keys of the tower thrown into 
 the Arno, and the five unhappy inmates were left to perish of 
 hunger. 
 
 If we have recorded here this heartless deed it is because 
 it is so vividly depicted by Dante in a passage of the 
 " Inferno/' which many critics regard as one of the sublimest 
 creations of poetry .^ 
 
 When Dante returned from Paris, the events that had 
 taken place in Sicily and Pisa were fresh in the minds of his 
 countrymen. Florence, at the head of the league of Tuscan 
 cities organised in the cause of the Guelphs, was threatened 
 by Pisa and Arezzo. Charles II. was then on his way to take 
 up the throne of Naples, left vacant by his father. He was 
 accompanied by his son, Charles Martel, who afterwards 
 became King of Hungary. Dante was brought into contact 
 with the latter during his short sojourn in Florence, and a 
 warm and lasting friendship sprang up between them.^ The 
 Aretines, in league with the Ghibellines of the south, sent 
 forward an army to stop the progress of Charles and his 
 followers ; and it was to oppose this move that the Florentines 
 marched against them. The encounter took place at 
 Campaldino, where the Aretines were defeated, 
 
 " Here," says Leonardo Aretino, " Dante, a young man of 
 good repute, who was in arms and exposed to great danger, 
 fought bravely in the first line of horse." ^ In the following 
 year he served in the united army of Florence and Lucca 
 against the Pisans, and assisted at the siege and capture of 
 Caprona. 
 
 On his return to Florence he was overwhelmed with grief at 
 the death of Beatrice. She had married, some time previously, 
 Simon de Bardi. Dante's love for her persisted all the same ; 
 
 ^ Canto xxxiii. See " Giov. Villani," L. vii., pp. 320-324. The archbishop 
 was at once summoned to Rome to account for his inhuman conduct. 
 
 ^ " Paradiso," canto viii. ' " Vita di Dante," p. 50. 
 
^6 THE LIFE OF DANTE. 
 
 for it was the love of the cavalier and of the christian idealist, 
 which had fired the imagination of nearly all the poets who 
 were prominent in Italy in those days. Mgr. Hettinger aptly 
 says in his work on the " Divine Comedy " : — 
 
 " If we consider Dante's depth of feeling and the early de- 
 velopment of his highly-gifted nature, the strong impression 
 made by Beatrice on his young mind need not surprise us. 
 His love for her was wholly ideal. It impelled him ever to 
 what was great and noble. Through her he raised himself 
 above the common herd (' Hell,' ii., 105). She again taught 
 him to love virtue, and from ' slave to freedom brought him ' 
 (' Par.,' xxxi., 75). The fact of his devotion to her as his ideal, 
 continuing both after her marriage and his own with Gemma 
 Donati, is open to misapprehension, but is fully explained by 
 the usages of mediaeval chivalry. The homage which knights 
 and minstrels paid to their ladies had nothing to do with 
 merely human love or natural ties. Dante and Beatrice met in 
 a region which was purely spiritual, and though the customs of 
 chivalry may have often been perverted, in the case of Dante 
 his whole career and character forbid the suspicion of any- 
 thing but what was pure and noble. The tone of his poetry 
 points to the same conclusion. It bears no trace of the light- 
 hearted gallantry common to the Proven9al minstrelsy, but is 
 marked by a religious earnestness, evidently inspired by the 
 hymns of St. Francis and the blessed Jacopone da Todi, and 
 of other poets of the Franciscan order, with whom he was 
 closely allied. As St. Francis worshipped God in nature, and 
 called upon the sun, moon and stars to give him honour, so 
 Dante saw in Beatrice a creature of the Divine goodness 
 and beauty, and gave glory to God on her account." ^ 
 
 In 1293 Dante was married to Gemma Donati, who 
 belonged to a powerful Guelph family in the city and was 
 
 * " The Divine Comedy, Its Scope aud Value," by Mgr. Franz Hettinger ; 
 translated from the German by Father H. Sebastian Bowden, of the Oratory. 
 (Burns & Gates.) 
 
THE LIFE OF DANTE. 27 
 
 nearly related to Corso, the " gran barone," and chief of the 
 " Neri ". Though blessed with a large family, Dante's married 
 life does not seem to have been at all happy. Gianozzo 
 Manetti, in his work " De Vita Trium Illustrium Poetarum 
 Florentinorum," says that his wife was of a^ morose disposition, 
 resembling the Xantippe of Socrates,^ whilst Dante by no 
 means exhibited the same patience as the Grecian philoso- 
 pher. Indeed, Balbo and many others think that the fault 
 was not altogether on the side of Gemma Donati.^ She was 
 dissatisfied at seeing her husband frequenting the schools of 
 the religious orders and the disputations of philosophers, 
 composing odes and sonnets, and sitting up all night long, 
 studying St. Thomas Aquinas and Albertus Magnus, dining 
 out with Forese, C^-valcanti, and all their circle, whilst, at the 
 same time, he neglected the administration of his property, 
 and allowed the family goods to drift as best they might. 
 To a practical woman this was pure folly. To Dante it was 
 the very breath of life ; and the world has good reason to be 
 thankful that he did not change his ways. 
 
 We are told that Dante was now much employed in the 
 service of the republic. In order to comply with the ordin- 
 ances of Giano della Bella, he registered his name in the 
 guild of physicians and apothecaries, and it was then, no 
 doubt, in the practice of his art that he acquired such a full 
 acquaintance with the diseases of the human body. In the 
 hospitals of the city he witnessed the progress of all sorts of 
 diseases, of dropsy, fever, leprosy, convulsions. He studied 
 the nature of the drugs and compounds suited to each disease, 
 the art of dissection, the mysteries of embryology, surgical 
 instruments, magnifying glasses, spices, jewels and pigments 
 of every description, pearls, diamonds, emeralds, etc.^ 
 
 Mario Filelfo, in his biography of the poet, states that he 
 
 ^ See Witte, " Dante Forschungen," vol. ii., pp. 48, 86. 
 ^" Dante Alighieri, Sein Zeit, Sein Leben und Seine Werke," by J. A. 
 Scartazzini, p. 157 and foil. 
 
 ' Plumptre, " Dante," vol. i., p. 63. 
 
28 THE LIFE OF DANTE. 
 
 was sent from Florence on no less than twelve different em- 
 bassies to neighbouring states. This is no doubt a great 
 exaggeration, for, as Trivulzio says, " To quote Filelfo as an 
 authority is not less ridiculous than to cite the author of " Don 
 Quixote " as a witness to a fact of history.^ But the knowledge 
 which the poet displays of local traditions and events makes it 
 probable that he had been in the south of Italy, and especially 
 at Naples,^ with the surroundings and history of which he 
 seems quite familiar, and where the presence of Charles Martel 
 would undoubtedly have attracted him. In the year 1300 he 
 was chosen one of the priors, whose duty it was to govern the 
 commonwealth with supreme authority. 
 
 But power does not always bring happiness in its train, 
 and the pride of place but too often pays dearly its price. 
 So, at least, it proved with Dante. His accession to power 
 only heralded his downfall and his banishment from the city 
 which he loved. He has left us the record of his grief at this 
 painful separation from home and kindred in almost every 
 page of his immortal work. In the strains of poetry alone 
 he could faithfully transmit his feelings to the sympathy of 
 future ages ; and as long as literature lasts the plaintive 
 accents of the exile and the wanderer will find an echo in 
 every generous heart. 
 
 The historic feud of the " Bianchi " and the " Neri," which 
 reached the climax of its fury in the year of Dante's priorship, 
 and was the immediate cause of his expulsion, had its origin 
 in the neighbouring city of Pistoia. There, among members 
 of the same powerful family of the Cancellieri, arose those 
 passionate contests which called at last for the intervention of 
 Florence, but which soon consumed Florence itself in their 
 flames. 
 
 It is impossible for us to enter into the details of this 
 family contest which are related by the authors of civil 
 
 ' ' See Scartazzini's " Companion to Dante"- Translated by Butler, p. 83. 
 
 ^See " Codice Diplomatico Dantesco " Edited by Passerini and Biagi, 
 where the record is given of Dante's embassy to San Gemignano. 
 
THE LIFE OF DANTE. 2^ 
 
 history.^ We must therefore pass Pistoia by, merely re- 
 marking, as we hasten onwards, that as it stands to-day 
 at the foot of the Apennines, shaded by verdant trees, 
 surrounded by its olive groves and trellised vineyards, it 
 remains only a wreck of its former splendour ; and the 
 memories of many bloody scenes and fierce encounters, of 
 domestic struggles and brutal treachery, are indelibly written 
 on its broken walls and shattered monuments. 
 
 At the time the Florentines were called upon to act as 
 peacemakers in Pistoia they themselves were divided into 
 two bitterly hostile parties. The Guelphs, who, as we have 
 seen, had become absolute masters of the republic, were 
 fighting amongst themselves. There were amongst them 
 aristocrats and democrats. The former were led by the 
 "great baron," Corso Donati, who was supported by the 
 leading aristocratic families, all of whom had been excluded 
 from participation in government by the decrees of Giano 
 della Bella. The wealth and influence of this party were 
 able to command the support and fidelity of a large section of 
 the population. The leader of the democratic party was 
 Vieri Cerchi,^ a self-made man, who had amassed a large 
 fortune in mercantile pursuits, and who was determined, as 
 far as in him lay, to humble the pride of those haughty lords, 
 who regarded him as an upstart, and unworthy, as such, to 
 be admitted into the society of men of rank and blood. 
 Cerchi had naturally a large following in the guilds and 
 trades of the city, and his Guelph' partisans were reinforced by 
 the remnant of Ghibellines that still held out. It needed 
 only the importation of the fiery spirits from Pistoia to bring 
 matters to a crisis. In order to restore peace among the 
 Pistojans the Florentines had resource to the unfortunate 
 device of removing the leaders of both factions, " Neri " and 
 " Bianchi," to Florence itself. These restless spirits, brought 
 
 ^ " Istorie Pistolesi Anonime." T. xi., p. 374. 
 ^ " Cronaca di Dmo Compagni," L. i., p. 480. 
 
30 THE LIFE OF DANTE. 
 
 •over from the city of Cataline — cruel, violent, given to plots 
 and conspiracies — soon found partisans in their new retreat. 
 Corso Donati and the aristocrats embraced the cause of the 
 " Neri," whilst Cerchi and his friends sided with the 
 "Bianchi". The old struggle was not ended, but merely 
 transferred from Pistoia to Florence. Occasions of insult and 
 retaliation were, therefore, sought by these rival factions. 
 Anger and jealousy gradually arose till it reached the propor- 
 tions of a vast tide and soon swept away all barriers of 
 moderation and charity.^ 
 
 A quarrel which arose on the ist of May, 1300, at the 
 springtime festival, between youths of the opposing parties, 
 was made the pretext for an outbreak of hostilities. The 
 quarrel passed from the youths to their elders, from threats 
 to blows, and from violent altercations to bloodshed and mur- 
 der. The city was soon in a state of siege. The horrors of 
 civil war were witnessed in almost every street. 
 
 Whilst these storms were gathering. Pope Boniface VIII. 
 had used his best offices with both parties in an effort to 
 restore tranquillity. He had summoned Vieri Cerchi to 
 Rome, and had asked him to promise that he would forgive 
 his enemies and make peace. Cerchi sullenly replied that he 
 had no enemies to forgive and no peace to make.^ Again 
 the pontiff made an effort towards reconciliation when he 
 sent to Florence his legate. Cardinal d'Aquasparta, instruct- 
 ing him to hear both parties with the object of bringing 
 them to a common understanding. But all these negotia- 
 tions ended in failure. The " Bianchi," who, on account of 
 the exclusive constitution, had the upper hand in the govern- 
 ment, were becoming more and more tyrannical. One of the 
 priors in particular, Lapo Saltarello, distinguished himself 
 
 ^ Leonardo Bruni gives a vivid picture of the dissensions that raged at this 
 juncture : " Divisesi la Citta tutta in modo che quasi non fii famiglia nobile ne 
 plebea che in se medesima non si dividesse . . . E trovossi la divisione essere 
 tra fratelli carnali, che I'uno di qua, I'altra di la, teneva," op, cit., pp. 30, 31. 
 
 ^ " Cronaca di Dino Compagni," p. 481. 
 
THE LIFE OF DANTE. 31 
 
 by his intolerant and oppressive spirit. Such, in brief, was 
 the condition of aiifairs when Dante was chosen, in the year 
 1 300, as one of the twelve priors who were to rule the republic 
 till the following year. 
 
 Like Guido Cavalcanti and Dino Compagni, Dante be- 
 longed rather to the party of the " Bianchi," but being much 
 opposed to sedition and violence in every form, he resolved, 
 in conjunction with his colleagues, to remove from Florence 
 the most turbulent of the leaders of both parties. If this 
 decision had been impartially carried out it might possibly 
 have proved effective ; but the leaders of the " Bianchi " were 
 no sooner expelled than pressure was brought to bear on the 
 authorities to allow them to return. They accordingly came 
 back without hindrance. Dante was led to this concession 
 by sympathy for his life-long friend, Guido Cavalcanti, who 
 was ill and had expressed a wish to be allowed to die in 
 Florence. His colleagues sympathised with the " Bianchi " even 
 more strongly than he did, and were glad of any pretence to 
 recall those of their party who had been sent away. 
 
 The exiled " Neri " now sought the aid and protection of 
 Pope Boniface VI IL They had, no doubt, a good many claims 
 upon the Pontiff. They were the backbone of the Guelph 
 party, who had always fought for Italy and religion against 
 foreign invaders, whereas the "Bianchi" had now, to a great 
 extent, become amalgamated with the Pope's hereditary 
 enemies, the Ghibellines. He could not be expected to 
 stand idly by and see his old supporters oppressed and 
 banished. Yet the problem was a complicated one, and 
 demanded cautious as well as energetic treatment. Per- 
 suasion had proved useless ; entreaty would no longer be 
 listened to. Strong measures had to be taken if any serious 
 results were to be obtained. 
 
 The " Bianchi " at Florence soon became alive to the danger 
 they incurred by allowing the intrigues of the " Neri " to prevail 
 in Rome without any effort being made on their side to counter- 
 
32 THE LIFE OF DANTE. 
 
 act them. Three delegates were, therefore, chosen to approach 
 the Pontiff and express their regret to the Holy See for their 
 former obstinacy, to pray for relief from the excommunication, 
 which deprived them of all spiritual comforts, and, above all, 
 to plead with the Pope for the interests of their party. 
 Dante was one of the chosen delegates, and as soon as the 
 two months of his own priorate expired, he set out for Rome. 
 We have no record of how he was received, but events proved 
 that Boniface had in view a project of his own for restoring 
 order in Florence, and that he persisted in his own ideas, not- 
 withstanding all the representations of the Florentine delegates. 
 
 " Nevertheless," writes M. Fauriel, " Dante had no reason 
 to regret his visit to Rome ; for he witnessed there a wonder- 
 ful spectacle, which must have exercised a powerful influence 
 on the poetic turn of his ideas. It Was the year of the great 
 jubilee instituted by Boniface. Immense crowds of christians 
 poured into the eternal city from all the countries of Europe. 
 They were brought into contact in the streets and approaches 
 to the city, some arriving, some departing, all united in one 
 thought, buoyed with the same hope, transported with the 
 same joy. It was assuredly a finer and more soul-stirring 
 sight than any he could have witnessed in the divisions and 
 conflicts of politics. Dante was undoubtedly deeply im- 
 pressed by it, and it was to consecrate the date of these 
 sublime emotions that he fixed his vision of the " Divina Com- 
 media" in the year 1300."^ 
 
 Besides, the city itself must have presented to a mind such 
 as Dante's a picture of no ordinary interest. He was there 
 in the centre of that fallen pagan world which inspired him 
 with the grandeur of its conquests and the vastness of its 
 world-wide sway. Around him were the relics of its noble 
 conceptions, the ruins of its triumphant greatness and material 
 civilisation, the cherished scenes of its mistaken worship. 
 
 ' Fauriel, " Dante et les Origines de la Langue et de la Litterature 
 Italiennes," vol i., p. 170. 
 
THE LIFE OF DANTE. 33 
 
 Here also were the tombs of the Apostles and of the martyrs, 
 the hallowed spots of those early years when the Church 
 went through its baptism of fire and blood ; where, after 
 the horrors and butcheries of three hundred years, when 
 neither age, nor sex, nor honour, nor innocence was spared, 
 grace rose triumphant at last over the powers of nature and 
 sin. We can well imagine the interest with which one who 
 explored so many circles and cornices of the other world 
 roamed through the awe-inspiring passages of the subter- 
 ranean city in which the early christians lived, and suffered, 
 and prayed, and were laid to rest. In scenes like these, amid 
 the ruins of the mythological world, near the fountain-head 
 of the great imperial power of old, the poet lived at the centre 
 of actual christian life, where the machinery of the universal 
 dominion of the church was now in full activity. There, too, 
 for the first jubilee given to the christian world, were ambas- 
 sadors and representatives of all nations, men of learning and 
 distinction from every clime, poets, painters, artists of every 
 degree. Giotto was there to paint the " Navicella," and the 
 imposing figure of Boniface dispensing his spiritual treasures 
 to the world. If sights such as these, and the emotions which 
 they produced, proved but a poor compensation to Dante at 
 the time for the failure of his diplomatic mission they have 
 at least repaid posterity. They bore fruit for the permanent 
 interest and instruction of mankind. 
 
 Pressed by the representatives of both " Neri " and 
 " Bianchi," and aware of their inveterate hatred and" distrust 
 of one another, the Pope was convinced that no reconciliation 
 was possible. The spirit of faction had risen so high as to 
 disgrace Florence and Italy by its foul deeds, and in order 
 to put an end once and for all to these desperate contests 
 Boniface now decided on a bold, though unsuccessful, step. 
 
 Charles of Valois, brother of Philip the Fair, King of 
 France, was then on his way to make war on Frederick 
 of Aragon, the newly-established King of Sicily. He had 
 
34 THE LIFE OF DANTE. 
 
 already won some reputation for ability and bravery in the 
 conquest of Flanders, and it occurred to the Pope that the 
 services of this prince might now be utilised to restore order 
 and harmony in Florence, and that when the rival factions 
 should see a foreigner appear amongst them to put down 
 oppression and administer even-handed justice, they would 
 soon become ashamed of their own furious passions, sink their 
 differences, and come to honourable terms. He accordingly 
 resolved to entrust to Charles this mission of Paciero, or 
 peacemaker. 
 
 At this distance of time it would appear unfortunate that 
 the same determined opposition which was offered by the 
 church to the pretensions of German Emperors was not main- 
 tained against foreigners from other nations as well. Domestic 
 troubles eventually settle themselves, and much advantage is 
 never gained by submitting them to the decision of outsiders. 
 The Pope, however, who lived in fierce times and was con- 
 fronted by unscrupulous enemies, was the best judge of what 
 the interests of the church and of public order demanded in 
 his day. The class of persons who are full of wisdom after 
 the fact is well represented in English literature. 
 
 When Dante returned to Florence he threw himself heart 
 and soul into the struggles of his party ; but soon the news of 
 the papal decision reached the city. The " Bianchi " were abso- 
 lutely dismayed at the intelligence. They resolved to send 
 messengers again to Rome for the purpose of dissuading the 
 Pope, if any persuasion were possible, from his cherished pro- 
 ject : and it was thought that if any Florentine were to succeed 
 in such a mission Dante was the man. With much difficulty 
 he was prevailed upon to leave the scene of action in Florence. 
 Two other citizens were appointed to accompany him, and all 
 three set out without delay. Dante little dreamt that he was 
 leaving the city of his birth and of his love never to return. 
 
 The deputation was courteously received by Boniface, who, 
 however, had irrevocably made up his mind and could not be 
 
THE LIFE OF DANTE. 35 
 
 moved. He requested Dante to remain some time longer in 
 Rome to confer with him on the state of affairs. The other 
 delegates were allowed to return at once. 
 
 Charles of Valois had meanwhile set out on his mission of 
 peace, ostentatiously accompanied by Corso Donati, and 
 several other leaders of the " Neri," with whom he seemed to 
 have a secret understanding. Nevertheless, the " Bianchi " of 
 Florence, uncertain of his intentions and alarmed at his 
 advance, sent messengers to meet him at Sienna, and make 
 inquiries as to his disposition towards their city and them- 
 selves. Charles gave them to understand that his intentions 
 were altogether pacific. He even went so far as to address 
 letters patent to the "Signoria" of Florence with his own 
 signature and seal, promising that, in the execution of his 
 mission, he would respect the laws, liberties and customs of 
 the republic. On such an understanding, he was not only 
 allowed to enter Florence without opposition, but was 
 welcomed and hailed as a saviour by the whole population. 
 His real purpose, however, could not remain long concealed. 
 On the 5th of November, three days after his arrival, he 
 called together at the church of Santa Maria Novella the 
 mayor or " podesta," the priors, the bishop, the presidents of 
 councils and of guilds, in fact, all the leading authorities both 
 civil and ecclesiastical. There he asked to be invested with 
 the " Balia," the discretionary or dictatorial power necessary in 
 troubled times. The assembly granted the powers demanded, 
 as there was nothing contrary to law or custom in the 
 prince's request. Charles then solemnly swore on the 
 gospels that he would maintain order in the republic without 
 infringing in any way the rights and liberties of the citizens. 
 
 But this oath turned out to be a false and cruel mockery, 
 and was destined to fix for ever on the fame of Charles a foul 
 and odious stain. The plots of the " Neri " had by this time 
 ripened. Bands of armed men began to make their appear- 
 ance all over the city. Excited groups were everywhere to 
 
36 THE LIFE OF DANTE. 
 
 be seen, swearing vengeance and hatred. Corso Donati 
 broke down one of the gates of the city with his own battle- 
 axe, and made a triumphant entry. The " Bianchi," taken 
 altogether unawares, now rushed confusedly to arms, but 
 their leaders fled, or remained, like the Cerchi, sullenly shut 
 up in their palaces awaiting events. Corso Donati threw open 
 the prisons, and let free upon the city all those whom 
 the " Bianchi " had punished or oppressed. These now rushed 
 wildly through the streets, seizing whatever arms they could 
 get, almost beside themselves with fury. Corso led them 
 to the government buildings, from which they chased the 
 priors, and where they installed Corso himself in authority. 
 The city is now in a state of siege. The "Bianchi" are 
 murdered wholesale, and their palaces, houses, stores, are 
 pillaged and burned to the ground.^ Charles looked on at 
 all this as if it were part of his own device, and never lifted 
 his voice even to moderate the passions that were let loose. 
 No wonder Dante should afterwards speak of him with such 
 scorn, coming into Florence " with the lance of Judas ". ^ 
 
 When the populace had grown tired of anarchy, and become 
 sated with tumult, new priors and a new podesti were chosen, 
 all from the most advanced partisans of the " Neri ". These 
 lost no time in doing the work that was expected of them. 
 They proceeded to proscribe the " Bianchi " wholesale. "By 
 this time," says Machiavelli, " the Cerchi and the other leaders 
 of the ' Bianchi,' who, when they were at the head of affairs 
 had behaved most haughtily towards the people, had become 
 objects of universal odium."' But they were not the only 
 ones to suffer. On the 27th of January, 1302, Dante was 
 condemned to two years' exile, and to a fine of 8000 lire. 
 When this fine was not paid his goods were confiscated to 
 
 1 Vide Fauriel, op. cit., vol. i., p. 177. " " Purgatono," canto xx. 
 
 ' " Erano i Cerchi e i capi di parte bianca per essere stato qualche tempo 
 capi della Reppublica e portatosi suparbamente, venuti all' universale in odio." 
 — " Istoiie Fiorentina," vol. i., p. 124. 
 
THE LIFE OF DANTE. 37 
 
 the public treasury. In March of the same year a still more 
 terrible sentence was pronounced against him. On the 
 ostensible charge of extortion, embezzlement and appro- 
 priation of public funds, he was condemned to be burnt alive 
 should he ever fall into the hands of the authorities. " Igne 
 comburatur sic quod moriatur." Tiraboschi, who was the 
 first to publish the Latin document in which this sentence 
 was formulated, gives his opinion on the charges it contains : 
 " I believe," he writes, " that in these times of turbulence and 
 discord it frequently happened that false crimes were imputed 
 to civil opponents, and were willingly and eagerly believed by 
 those who wished to vent their wrath on political enemies. 
 This, however, is the only decree, as far as I am aware, in 
 which such a punishment was inflicted for such a crime. This 
 is the best proof of the fury with which these opposing 
 factions acted towards one another." ''■ 
 
 When Dante heard that his party was betrayed by Charles 
 he at once left Rome. It was, we believe, at Sienna that the 
 news of his sentence reached him. Though greatly dis- 
 heartened, the poet did not think by any means that all was 
 lost. It was, he thought, but a passing victory for the 
 "Neri". They had their reverses in former days, had bided 
 their time, watched their opportunity, and gained the upper 
 hand. Why should not he and his party do as well ? The 
 " Bianchi " accordingly set to work, under Allessandro of 
 Romena, to organise their forces. They found but little 
 sympathy at Sienna, and turned to Arezzo, where Uggucione 
 della Faggiuolo held the office of podesta. Here, too, their 
 reception was cold, for although Uggucione sympathised with 
 their aims, other interests engaged his attention. They next 
 took refuge at Forli, where Scarpetta Ordelaffi, the papal 
 vicar, placed himself at their head. From here Dante 
 
 ' " Storia della Letteratura Italiana," vol. vi., p. 721. See also Scai- 
 tazzini's " Discussion as to Dante's Guilt," C. to D. 
 
38 THE LIFE OF DANTE. 
 
 was sent to solicit the assistance of Bartolomeo della Scala, 
 Lord of Verona. He was received with great honour by this 
 nobleman, and by his brothers, Alboino and Can Grande. 
 The good impression made on him by these hospitable and 
 princely lords became the origin of a lasting friendship, 
 which, with some clouds on both sides, was, on the whole, 
 most creditable to the Scaligeri. 
 
 In Dante's absence Ordelafifi made an attack on Florence, 
 but was defeated at Puliciano. Another attempt to capture 
 the city was made by the Pisans, Pistoians and Bolognese, 
 but they also were repulsed. Pope Benedict XI. sent Cardinal 
 del Prato to try his hand at negotiations for peace. He had 
 no more success than his predecessor, D'Aquasparta, and left 
 the city under an interdict. 
 
 " Since you persist in war, and will not obey the messenger 
 of the Vicar of Christ, nor have any peace or union among 
 yourselves, remain now with the malediction of God and of 
 Holy Church." 
 
 A third and serious attempt to re-enter Florence was made 
 by the " Bianchi " in 1304. This time they got as far as the 
 piazza of St. Mark, but were finally routed and repelled. 
 Dante now gave up all immediate hope. It was clear that, 
 for the present at least, the gates of his beloved city were 
 inexorably barred against him. Family, friends, property, all 
 was lost, and in sadness and desolation the great man turned 
 away from Florence for ever, henceforward condemned to eat 
 the bread of exile, to climb and to descend the strangers' 
 stairs. 
 
 As he looked back on the miserable strife that had 
 rent his country asunder, he deplored in his heart the reck- 
 less spirit of faction which had led to such dire misfortune ; 
 and he longed for some strong imperial ruler who should be 
 in a position to moderate and control the feuds of smaller 
 states. Dante was never a factionist at heart. He who now 
 definitely proclaimed himself as " a party by himself alone " 
 
THE LIFE OF DANTE. 39 
 
 had never in reality been anything else. The sense of justice 
 and the consciousness of what was due to Christian faith were 
 too strong in him to allow him to be associated permanently 
 with the factions then contending. Yet the course of events 
 that carried him away for the moment, the intrigues, the 
 hypocrisy, the petty meanness combined with the haughty and 
 intolerant insolence of his opponents, made him indignant and 
 rash at the same time. Now all was over. Withdrawn from 
 the conflicts and recriminations of these daily quarrels his 
 mind spontaneously reverted to the ideal, to what is good and 
 true and upright in itself, and in particular to what, when 
 applied to the practical work of government, is necessary in 
 order to restrain passions, to quell the savage feelings 
 that sometimes rise uppermost in the human breast, and 
 to hold firm the barriers of moderation and justice before 
 the selfishness and ambition of unreasonable men. It was 
 then that his great Utopia for the government of the world 
 began to assume definite shape in his mind. Years afterwards 
 he was to expound it in his work " De Monarchia," but already 
 it had become an absorbing ideal, the remedy for every evil 
 in Church and State. Through its means ecclesiastical domi- 
 nation in temporal affairs should cease ; and, on the other hand, 
 the Church would be free from civil oppression, and the world 
 could never again be shocked and scandalised by outrages on 
 religion, such as that which had just taken place at Anagni,^ 
 when Sciarra Colonna and Nogaret, the infamous agent of 
 Philip the Fair, dared to lay violent hands on the Vicar of 
 Christ. This episode must have deeply impressed the poet ; 
 for, notwithstanding all his hostility to Boniface on personal 
 grounds, he nevertheless dutifully recognises him as the Vicar 
 of Christ, whose person is sacred and inviolable. Penetrated 
 with this conviction, and alive to all the instincts of Catho- 
 licism as Dante was, no one need be surprised at the vehemence 
 
 ^ See Rohrbacker, " Histoire de I'Eglise," vol. xix., p. 465. 
 
40 THE LIFE OF DANTE. 
 
 of language with which he denounces this brutal sacrilege.^ 
 
 With what enthusiasm Dante afterwards worked for the 
 
 realisation of his ideal we shall subsequently see. 
 
 His wife, Gemma Donati, was able through her kinship 
 
 with Corso to save some property in Florence, on the plea 
 
 that it formed part of her dowry. She could not share the 
 
 exile of her husband without sacrificing the interests of her 
 
 children. Dante scarcely ever refers to her or them in any of 
 
 his works. Writers of the period seldom made any allusion 
 
 to the immediate members of their family ; but it can be easily 
 
 inferred to whom the poet alludes in the Paradiso when he 
 
 speaks of what he left behind him in Florence : — 
 
 Tu lascerai ogni cosa diletta 
 Piu caramente.^ 
 
 From 1306 Dante found refuge in several noble houses, 
 where his talents and virtues were appreciated, and where, 
 notwithstanding his misfortunes, he applied himself to the 
 composition of the works which have immortalised his name. 
 The moral and intellectual greatness of the man comes out 
 where others would have sunk beneath the weight of calami- 
 ties, both public and private. He was first for some time the 
 guest of the Scaligeri of Verona ; for as he himself tells us : — 
 
 Lo primo tuo refugio e '1 primo ostello 
 Sara la cortesia del gran Lombardo 
 Che'n su la Scala porta il santo uccello.' 
 
 Soon after he spent some time with the Counts Guidi* in 
 the Casentino, and with Bosone da Gubbio, who was himself 
 a poet and a warm admirer of the illustrious exile. He also 
 paid a visit to Bologna with his son Pietro, but an outbreak 
 of hostilities against the Ghibellines compelled him to with- 
 draw. He then retired to Padua, where he enjoyed once 
 more the company of Giotto, and made excursions into the 
 
 1 " Purg.," XX. ^ Thou shall leave behind thee what thou lovest most. 
 
 ' Thy first home, thy first refuge shall be found in the courtesy of the great 
 Lombard who shows the holy bird above his stairs. — " Paradiso," canto xvii. 
 •* Witte, " Dante und Die Grafen Guidi ". Dante-Forschungen, vol. ii., p. 194. 
 
THE LIFE OF DANTE. 41 
 
 country along the Brenta. He made a longer stay with his 
 friends, the Malaspina of Lunigiana, where he assisted in 
 bringing about a reconciliation between several members of 
 the family — Antonio, Bishop of Luni, and Franceschino on 
 the one hand, and the Marchesi Moroello and Corradino on 
 the other. In this hospitable house, which was a sort of 
 neutral ground and refuge for members of all parties of the 
 " fuorusciti," Dante met many old acquaintances, amongst 
 them the poet, Cino da Pistoia. It was from this refuge that 
 he started, in the year 1308, on his second journey to Paris. 
 
 There is an old story, often repeated, and regarded as 
 perfectly trustworthy by such critics as Troya^ and Fraticelli,^ 
 that on his way to Paris Dante stopped for some time at the 
 monastery of Santa Croce del Corvo, at the mouth of the 
 river Magro, not far from Spezzia, where Ilario, a saintly 
 friar, and friend of Uggucione della Faggiuolo, happened to 
 be prior.' When the weary traveller reached the monastery 
 he was asked by the prior, as was the custom, what he sought. 
 At first he did not answer, but, on being interrogated a 
 second time, he replied, " peace ". He was then affectionately 
 welcomed by the prior, who soon became aware that he had 
 no ordinary visitor. Dante, who had already finished the 
 " Inferno," is said to have now confided it to his host, with a 
 request that he would explain the sense of the different 
 cantos in brief notes, and then convey it in the name of the 
 author to Uggucione della Faggiuolo. The letter supposed 
 to have been written by Ilario on this occasion is regarded as 
 very important by some commentators : but to our mind it is 
 clearly spurious, and bears upon the face of it clear evidence 
 of having been fabricated. It is rejected by the best critics 
 of all countries, by Repetti, Venturi, Centofanti, Tommasdo, 
 Paur, Blanc, Witte and Scartazzini. 
 
 ^ " Veltro Allegorico," p. 103. 
 
 " " Storia della Vita di Dante," pp. 346-368. 
 
 ^ See Mehus, " Vita Amb. Camald.," cccxxi. 
 
42 THE LIFE OF DANTE. 
 
 What Dante's object was in going to Paris at this period 
 is somewhat uncertain. Some believe that, as the school of 
 theology in the French capital was then the most famous in 
 the world, the poet went there in order to gain additional 
 knowledge and light on the graver questions he had to treat 
 in the "Purgatorio" and "Paradiso". Others consider it 
 more probable that he was drawn to Paris for political and 
 diplomatic objects. The desperate struggle of Philip the 
 Fair with the Knights Templars was then raging in its last 
 storm. Philip and his advisers felt that they were gaining 
 the upper hand, and were already entering on new intrigues, 
 which it was Dante's interest to study, in view of possible 
 developments in Italy. The assertion that it was at this 
 period of his life he made his principal stay in Paris rests on 
 the authority of two of his earliest commentators, Boccaccio 
 and Benvenuto da Imola : these in their turn are quoted 
 by Villani, Philippo da Bergamo, and others ; as historians 
 they have often been proved quite untrustworthy, and it is 
 generally believed that they are wrong here also. What 
 is of undoubted interest, however, is the fact that in spite 
 of all his misfortunes, the poet again at this advanced age 
 attended lectures in theology and scripture at the great 
 university. 
 
 He does not seem, all the same, to have remained long in 
 France. In 1310 he is again on the other side of the Alps. 
 Clement V., who is so often and so unjustly acqused of having 
 been the tool of Philip the Fair, successfully thwarted that 
 unscrupulous monarch in one of his most cherished projects. 
 It had been one of Philip's most ambitious dreams to procure 
 the imperial crown for his brother, Charles of Valois, the 
 same who had already broken his plighted oath to the people 
 of Florence. The long-expected opportunity now offered 
 itself Albert of Hapsburg was assassinated by his cousin in 
 1308, and the electors of the empire were summoned to 
 choose a successor to him. Philip strained every nerve, first in 
 
THE LIFE OF DANTE. 4>3- 
 
 diplomacy and intrigue, and, when these failed, in open threats 
 of violence, to compel the Pope to support the candidature 
 of his brother. This Clement firmly refused to do. He 
 commissioned the Bishop of Cologne to support in his name 
 Henry of Luxemburg, who was accordingly elected. 
 
 The new emperor was no sooner installed in power than 
 he directed his ambition towards Italy. His two immediate 
 predecessors, Albert of Hapsburg and his father Rudolf, had 
 devoted all their attention to their German states, and having 
 given up all hope of ever subjugating Italy they had never 
 crossed its frontiers. But now circumstances were changed. 
 To the young and ambitious emperor Italy seemed to be in 
 a position which offered facilities for conquest such as were 
 never enjoyed by his predecessors. The country was torn by 
 internal factions. Guelphs and Ghibellines, " Bianchi " and 
 " Neri," Orsini and Colonna, Montecchi and Capuletti, parti- 
 sans of Aragon and partisans of France, Pisans and Genoese,. 
 Pistoia and Arezzo, Torriani and Visconti, Florentines and 
 Florentines, were literally at one another's throats. Bertrand 
 de Got, Archbishop of Bordeaux, on his accession to the 
 papacy in 1305, established his court at Avignon, and the 
 power which had ever been the centre of resistance to 
 German encroachments in Italy was out of the way. Taking 
 advantage of this absence, and of the rivalries and jealousies 
 of the Italian states, the emperor marched southwards. 
 
 A vision now arose before the mind of Dante, in which he 
 saw the realisation of his dream. Here was the prince who. 
 might rise to his conception of the ideal monarch, or who, at 
 least as far as Italy was concerned, might soon be in a posi- 
 tion to check the fanaticism of rivals, and calm the surging 
 quarrels of the Italian republics. To help in bringing about such 
 a happy state of things Dante returned at once to Italy. The 
 first outcome of his enthusiasrii was a letter addressed " To 
 each and to all of the Kings of Italy, to the Senators of Rome, 
 to the Dukes, Marquises, Counts, and to all the people, from 
 
44 THE LIFE OF DANTE. 
 
 the humble Italian, Dante AUighieri of Florence ".^ It calls 
 upon them to sink all their differences, to put passion and 
 prejudice aside, and welcome the new Augustus, the powerful 
 and merciful Henry who came to them with the blessing of 
 Clement, Peter's successor, "in order that, where the spiritual 
 ray is not sufficient, this minor light may shine and illumine."^ 
 The ardour of the response to this appeal was not at all up to 
 Dante's expectations. Henry crossed the Mont Cenis from 
 Lausanne to Turin. The people of the north, tired of party 
 strife, of bloodshed and crime, and harrassed by the exactions 
 ■of the feudal lords, received him warmly enough, His policy, 
 besides, was that of the "paciero," or peace-bringer. He 
 restored the Guelphs where they had been banished by the 
 Ghibellines, and the Ghibellines where they had been driven 
 •out by the Guelphs. In the chief places that fell under his 
 control he appointed imperial vicars to carry out his policy, 
 and over these he placed Count Louis of Savoy, as Governor- 
 General of Lombardy. On the feast of the Epiphany, 1311, 
 he received the iron crown in the Church of St. Ambrose, at 
 Milan, and was offered the homage of all the cities in Northern 
 Italy except Florence, Genoa and Venice. 
 
 Dante next addressed himself to his countrymen at Flor- 
 ence, calling upon them to throw open their city to the new 
 peacemaker, and warning them to beware of the fate of 
 Saguntum, and of the scenes that were witnessed in the streets 
 of Milan and Spoleto under Frederick Barbarossa, should they 
 dare to refuse. The Florentines patriotically declined to listen 
 to the prophet of the new deliverer. They organised resistance, 
 not only in Florence but throughout Tuscany and Romagna, 
 and, to show more explicitly the spirit in which they received 
 the advice of Dante, they renewed the sentences that had 
 
 ' See Witte, " Ep.," v., p. 17. 
 
 ' Clement had not given the expedition his blessing ; but Dante presumes 
 he was fevourable to it as he had taken no steps to oppose it. This was an artifice 
 to win over the Guelphs. 
 
THE LIFE OF DANTE. 45 
 
 been passed against him and his fellow-exiles. Nettled by 
 this defiance the poet boldly addressed himself to the emperor, 
 urging him to hasten and chastise that wicked city — "the 
 viper coiled in its mother's bosom" — "the refuge of the 
 fox" — "the impious and dissolute Myrrha ". "Breakdown 
 its obstinacy thou scion of the race of Isaias, and the Philis- 
 tines shall flee before thee and Israel shall be free. Our 
 lost inheritance shall be restored, and we of the captivity of 
 Babylon shall see once more the sacred Jerusalem." "For 
 Dante, pressing a foreign prince to attack his native city we 
 know no valid excuse," writes Balbo : " let us pass the episode 
 by in sadness." ^ 
 
 After a long delay in Lombardy Henry's progress south- 
 wards was marked by a series of disasters. His brother was 
 killed at the siege of Brescia. The wife whom he devotedly 
 loved died at Genoa. King Robert of Naples threw himself 
 with might and main into the struggle against him. It was 
 with difficulty he was able to force his way to Rome, where, 
 on the feast of the Holy Apostles, 13 12, he received the crown 
 of the Holy Roman Empire from the hands of the papal legate, 
 Cardinal del Prato. On his return to lay siege to the 
 obstinate city of Florence his men were attacked by pesti- 
 lence. They were cut down wholesale. The people rose 
 against the oppression of his vicars in Lombardy. His war 
 supplies seem to have been all but exhausted. Betrayed by 
 some of his original followers, and overcome by trials of every 
 description, he lost heart, and in broken health retired to 
 Buonconvento, where he died on the 24th of August, 13 13. 
 
 We can well conceive the shock which Dante experienced 
 at this unexpected blow to his hopes and fortune. The 
 emperor whom he had heralded into Italy as the new Moses, 
 the Saviour, the Prince of Peace, had thus disappeared with- 
 out having accomplished any of his promised triumphs. The 
 
 • 1 Balbo, " Vita di Dante," p. 335. 
 
46 THE LIFE OF DANTE. 
 
 enterprise on which the poet had staked everything had 
 failed. Notwithstanding his good intentions, and his natur- 
 ally kind and moderate disposition, Henry was driven, almost 
 against his will, along the usual path of despotism. His tour 
 of conquest was followed by all the troubles which German 
 pretensions were wont to bring into Italy, and the realisation 
 of the dream of universal monarchy was as far distant as 
 before. Had not Dante been a man of extraordinary power 
 we might expect to see him now, at last, yield to fortune, and 
 break down utterly under the crash of disappointed hopes. 
 The chief part of his leisure during these troubled years was 
 spent in the working out of his Utopian dream of dual 
 authority, spiritual and temporal, exercised in harmony for 
 the universal good of mankind, by the successor of St. Peter 
 on the one hand, and the representative of Caesar on the 
 other. Now it was all over. He at least would not live to 
 see even the first glimmer of that ideal beatitude in the world. 
 But, at best, Dante's hopes were never confined to earth. 
 Indeed, they lay chiefly and pre-eminently beyond it. Who 
 could have known better than he what phantoms man pur- 
 sues in his earthly course, and of what little account they are 
 in comparison with eternal life ? Who had a keener insight 
 into the moral greatness of resignation and courage than 
 he who could penetrate into the secrets of another world 
 and review the beauties of the Divine reward ? It is, as the 
 Olympian Goethe reminds us, adversity that draws out the 
 highest powers of human genius : — 
 
 Wer nie sein Brod mit Thranen ass : 
 
 Wer nicht die kummervollen Nachte 
 Auf seinen Bette weinend sass, 
 
 Der kennt euch nicht, ihr himmelischen Machte.^ 
 
 So, we have reason to believe, it was with Dante : for although 
 his shoulders became more stooped than before, and his fits 
 of silence more protracted, his gaze was fixed on more 
 
 ' Wilhelm Meister, ii., 13. 
 
THE LIFE OF DANTE. 47 
 
 attractive scenes than any which the conflicts of this world 
 or its conquerors could present to him. Even as it was he 
 did not cast aside his plans nor abandon his theories. The 
 temporal portion of his programme had failed for the time 
 being : he next turned to the advancement of the spiritual. 
 
 On the death of Clement V. in 13 14, the conclave that 
 was to elect his successor had assembled at Carpentras. 
 Dante now wrote to the four Italian cardinals who had gone 
 to France for the election, reminding them of the sad con- 
 dition of Rome without its pontiff. " How doth the city sit 
 solitary that was full of people ? How does she become as a 
 widow that was mistress of the nations ? " In the most 
 suppliant language he begs of the cardinals to do all in their 
 , power to bring back the Pope to Rome, and, if possible, to 
 bring about the election of an Italian cardinal. 
 
 Uggucione della Fagguiolo, who had been imperial vicar 
 in Genoa under Henry now took up the projects of his master 
 in regard to the Florentines. He retained in his service the 
 mercenary troops from Flanders and Brabant who had 
 come to Italy with Henry. ^ With these he made several 
 raids on neighbouring cities, and soon afterwards he was 
 called on by the Pisans to take command of their army. He 
 also became master of Lucca, and having joined together the 
 forces of these two cities, he secured the assistance of the 
 Bishop of Arezzo, of the Counts of Santafiore, of Messer 
 Maffei and Visconti of Milan, and of all the Ghibellines of 
 Tuscany, and exiles of Florence. With these he marched in 
 the month of August, 1315, to the battlefield of Montecatini. 
 There he was met by the Florentines, supported by the 
 Prince of Taranto, and Prince Charles of Naples, the 
 Bolognese, the Pistoians, and the Perugians. After a bloody 
 encounter Uggucione was victorious ; but weakness, jealousies, 
 and petty quarrels hindered the Ghibellines from following up 
 
 ' See " Villani," p. 469. 
 
48 THE LIFE OF DANTE. 
 
 their victory. The Florentines were able to rally their forces 
 and renew their defiance. Dante watched this struggle with 
 melancholy anxiety. He did not dare now to hope for 
 success. He could hardly be disappointed at another failure. 
 Once more the sentence of exile and of death was renewed 
 against him. " Caput a spatulis amputetur ita quod penitus 
 moriatur." 
 
 The condition to which he had been reduced by mis- 
 fortune is painfully described in a passage of the " Convito," 
 in which he tells how he looked to literature, even during his 
 lifetime, to uphold his dignity and maintain the respect that 
 was due to it. 
 
 " It has pleased the citizens of Florence," he writes, " that 
 beautiful and famous daughter of Rome, to drive me from 
 her sweet bosom, where I was nurtured in youth, and where 
 yet, if she will allow it, I desire with all my heart to rest my 
 wearied soul, and to finish in this world my allotted span. I 
 have gone to every country where our tongue is spoken, a 
 wanderer, almost a beggar, showing against my will the scars 
 of fortune which are often unjustly imputed to the soul of the 
 frame that bears them. Truly I have been like a ship with- 
 out rudder, cast upon shoals and rocks and upon the broken 
 strand of life by the strong wind of poverty and misfortune. I 
 have appeared vile to many men who on account of my little 
 fame had conceived quite a different opinion of me, and the 
 sight of my person lessened ev^en their estimate of my works." 
 
 Sometime later there is a record of an offer of conditional 
 amnesty having been held out to him. It was a custom of 
 long standing in Florence to pardon coiners of false money 
 and other such criminals on the Feast of St. John the Baptist, 
 and to offer them as a sort of oblation to the patron of the 
 city. After the payment of a certain sum of money, they 
 were obliged to enter Florence with a mock mitre on their 
 heads, and a taper in their hands, and to walk in procession 
 behind the car of the mint as far as the porch of the cathedral. 
 
THE LIFE OF DANTE. 49 
 
 Notwithstanding the poet's ardent love of Florence, and his 
 desire to enter that " beautiful fold," where his childhood and 
 youth had been spent, he indignantly refused the proffered 
 grace. The suggestion of acceptance came from a Florentine 
 monk who was one of his own friends, perhaps of his relatives. 
 The dignity and noble feeling of the poet's answer could not 
 well be surpassed : — 
 
 "Is this" he says, "the glorious recall that is to restore 
 Dante Allighieri to his country, after having suffered well- 
 nigh three lustres of exile ? Is this the reward of his manifest 
 innocence, his incessant toil and unremitting study ? Far be 
 such baseness of heart from one familiar with philosophy, as 
 to submit to be led in chains into his native city like a 
 ' ciolo ' or malefactor. Far be it from a preacher of justice 
 to reward with his own money those who have done him 
 wrong. No, good father ! That is not the way for me to 
 return. But should a way be found by yourself or others 
 that shall not take from Dante's fame and honour, be sure 
 that I shall follow it. Should no such way be found through 
 which I can enter Florence, then its gates I shall never pass. 
 And what ? Shall I not see wherever I turn the bright rays 
 of the sun and of the stars? Can I not everywhere under 
 heaven speculate on the sweetest truths of life without sub- 
 mitting myself to the people of Florence, stripped of my 
 glory and covered with ignominy ? Not even bread shall fail 
 me. '■ 
 
 After having despatched this spirited protest Dante re- 
 signed himself to his fate and left Tuscany for ever. The 
 rest of his life was chiefly spent with his noble patrons Can 
 Grande della Scala, Pagano della Torre, and Guido Novello 
 da Polenta. 
 
 Can Grande della Scala was then one of the most 
 powerful princes in Italy. His castle at Verona had 
 
 1 See Witte, " Dantis Epistolae," viii. 
 
 4, 
 
50 THE LIFE OF DANTE. 
 
 become a refuge for many distingnished personages, both 
 Guelph and Ghibelline. His court had attracted the most 
 brilliant men of his time, soldiers, authors, clerics, poets, 
 ecientists, courtiers of every description. All these had their 
 apartments furnished in sumptuous style, and decorated with 
 elaborate ornaments and paintings, the designs being in each 
 case suited to the occupant. There were triumphs for the 
 soldiers, sacred groves of the muses for the poets, mercury for 
 the scientists, paradise for the preachers, fortune for the 
 exiles.^ But in addition to the guests of rank and distinction 
 who came to Verona, there was besides, as a permanent 
 institution at the castle, a throng of jesters and buffoons, kept, 
 according to the custom of the age, to amuse their lord and 
 master, and to impress his visitors with the magnificence of 
 his mansion. With these the poet, being a habitual resident, 
 was brought into daily contact. We may easily imagine how 
 little at home a serious man like Dante could feel in their 
 society. It is possible that they too, being aware of his 
 objection to them, deliberately helped to make his life un- 
 pleasant. Certain it seems that he had differences, social as 
 well as political, with his noble host. Petrarch relates that on 
 one occasion, when Dante expressed his disgust at the licen- 
 tious words and obscene gestures of one of these parasites, 
 Can Grande remonstrated with him saying, " I wonder how 
 it is that this foolish fellow pleases me and all my guests 
 more than you who are said to be so wise ? " " You need not 
 wonder at it," was Dante's sharp reply, " when you remember 
 that it is similarity of habit and character that begets friend- 
 ship."^ Another writer tells us that when the guests were 
 one day at dinner, the bones that were according to the 
 prevalent custom cast down beneath the table, were collected 
 
 ^See Muratori, " Rerum Italicarum Scriptores," xxiii., p. 2. 
 
 ^ Petrarca, " Rer. Mirab.," lib ii., p. 427. It is impossible to say how much 
 credence can be given to stories of this kind. They look very like the inven- 
 tions of imaginative people, seeking to impress the world with their wit. 
 
THE LIFE OF DANTE. 51 
 
 into a heap by an impudent boy, and placed near the chair of 
 Dante. Can Grande, on perceiving them at the end of the 
 repast, exclaimed, " By my troth ! Dante is a great devourer 
 of meat." " Were I a great dog," (Can Grande) retorted 
 Dante, " you should not see so many bones." ^ Dante and 
 his host also disagreed as to the result of the election 
 in Germany to appoint the successor of Henry VII. Can 
 Grande recognised and supported Frederick of Austria, whilst 
 Dante and his friend, Uggucione, upheld the claims of Louis 
 of Bavaria. It was, we must conclude, owing to these petty 
 annoyances in social life and to the friction and differences in 
 matters of higher import that Dante made up his mind to go, 
 uttering as he went that bitter complaint which many a man 
 of letters has uttered since : — 
 
 How salt a savour hath 
 The bread of others, and how hard the path 
 To climb and to descend the stranger's stairs ! ^ 
 
 Nevertheless, Can Grande behaved on the whole with 
 generosity and magnanimity towards his illustrious guest. 
 He showed him from time to time special and unusual marks 
 of attention, and assured him of a home in his castle as long 
 as he wished to avail himself of it. Dante, on the other hand, 
 though proud and disdainful, ever cherished the deepest 
 gratitude towards his noble patron, and proved it by offering 
 him the dedication of the " Paradiso ". The letter which 
 accompanied this dedication was written in the year 13 17. It 
 gave to all future commentators a key to the interpretation 
 of the poem, and proclaimed the lofty purpose its author had 
 in view, viz., "to remove those now living from a state of 
 misery, and to lead them to a state of happiness ''. Only a 
 few cantos, however, accompanied the dedicatory letter. The 
 
 ^ Cinzio Giraldi, " Hecatomiti," D. vii., N. 6. 
 ^ Came sa di sale 
 Lo pane altrui, e com' e duro calle 
 Lo scendere e'l salii per I'altrui scale. 
 
52 THE LIFE OF DANTE. 
 
 other cantos were sent, six or eight together, according as 
 they were written. In this way all but the last thirteen were 
 despatched. When the poet died there was no account of the 
 remaining cantos. It was believed that they did not exist, 
 and his sons Jacopo and Pietro were asked to finish the poem 
 in their father's stead. They had actually begun to do so to the 
 best of their ability when they discovered the missing treasure. 
 
 Boccaccio, who always revels in the marvellous and 
 romantic, embellishes the story of the discovery in his usual 
 style. He tells us that the place in which the missing cantos 
 were concealed was revealed to Jacopo in a vision. His 
 father had appeared to him, clad in white raiment, his face 
 shining with supernatural light, and took him to the spot in 
 which the manuscript was hid, in the wall of the house in 
 which he had died. It is impossible to say what germ of 
 truth may be contained in Boccaccio's story, but it is quite 
 clear that the " Divine Comedy," as we possess it, is entirely 
 the work of Dante. " The Purgatorio" he had already given 
 to the Marquis Moroello Malaspina, and the " Inferno " to 
 Uggucione della Faggiuolo. 
 
 " Now a noble knight," says Boccaccio, " named Guido 
 Novello da Polenta, was at that time Lord of Ravenna, the 
 oldest and most famous town in Romagna. He was a master 
 in all the liberal arts, and delighted to honour great men who 
 surpassed all others in attainments. When he learned that 
 Dante Allighieri was an exile in Romagna, being aware already 
 of his great fame, and knowing his worth, he hastened to 
 invite him to his house and pay him every honour. Dante 
 accepted this generous invitation, and was abundantly supplied 
 with everything necessary to his material comfort till the end 
 of his Hfe.^ 
 
 His new patron provided him with a suitable house in 
 Ravenna, where he lived with his son Pietro and his daughter 
 
 ' Boccaccio, "Vita di Dante," p. 38. 
 
THE LIFE OF DANTE. ' 53 
 
 Beatrice, and supplied him with means of independent sup- 
 port which relieved the illustrious poet from the necessity of 
 applying for assistance every time he stood in urgent need. 
 It is remarkable that Dante should thus find an asylum in his 
 declining years in the house of the brother of Francesca da 
 Rimini, whom he had consigned to hell. He has sometimes 
 been blamed for recording this stain on the illustrious family 
 of a benefactor and a friend. Dante, however, merely followed 
 his usual practice of dispensing praise and censure according 
 to the fame that individuals left after them, and his picture of 
 Francesca's woe was not only drawn without malice but with 
 a real desire to alleviate, as far as circumstances would 
 allow, the inevitable punishment of her folly. 
 
 " In Ravenna therefore he dwelt, having given up all hope, 
 though not all desire, of returning to Florence ; and here he 
 had several disciples in poetry at this time, especially in 
 poetry of the vulgar tongue, which he for the first time raised 
 up amongst us Italians, doing for our language what Homer 
 did for Greek and Virgil for Latin." ^ 
 
 From this we see that even up to his last days the longing 
 desire of Dante's heart to see once more his beloved Florence 
 had in no way diminished. Of this he himself gives us an 
 absolute proof in one of the last cantos of " Paradiso " (xxv.), 
 where he tells us that if ever the sacred poem, "to which 
 heaven and earth had put a hand," should prevail over the 
 cruelty which kept him excluded from "that fair fold where 
 once he slept as a tender lamb," he would at once return, 
 and, standing by the font of his baptism, lay claim to the 
 poet's wreath, "for," he says, "there I first entered on the 
 faith which maketh souls acceptable to God ". 
 
 It is but right to note also that on Dante's departure from 
 Verona there does not seem to have been any open rupture 
 between him and Can Grande, and that he never forgot his 
 
 ^ Boccaccio, op. cit., pp. 39, 40. 
 
54 THE LIFE OF DANTE. 
 
 friendly reception in Verona in his worst days, when his 
 enemies were triumphant and his friends were few. 
 
 Though Guido da Polenta was a Guelph in politics and a 
 leading member of the party, he treated Dante with the 
 greatest courtesy and friendship ; thus by a delicate con- 
 sideration for the poet's dignity and self-respect, and to 
 show that he valued his services as well as his society, he 
 entrusted him with several important matters of state. It is 
 asserted that more than once Dante went about such matters 
 to Venice, and that it was on passing through Verona on the 
 first of these occasions that he expounded his famous thesis : 
 " De duobus dementis, terras et aquae," in the Church of St. 
 Helena in that city, and to a mixed audience of clergy and 
 laity .^ It would appear certain at all events that Dante went 
 in the year 1321 to negotiate a treaty of peace between the 
 Venetians and the Polentani. But success did not attend his 
 efforts even here. In the practical work of life he seemed 
 ever condemned to failure. This, however, was his last public 
 undertaking. Disappointed at the result of his mission and 
 broken in spirit under the weight of so many misfortunes, he 
 contracted a fatal disease which soon put an end to his earthly 
 troubles. He died in the month of September and on the 
 festival of " Santa Croce," at the age of fifty-six years and four 
 months. His end was such as his works would lead us to 
 expect. It is thus described by Boccaccio : — 
 
 " And now the hour that awaits every man arrived for 
 Dante when he had reached the middle or thereabouts of his 
 fifty-sixth year. And having humbly and devoutly received 
 all the sacraments of the Church, according to the Christian 
 religion, and having expressed deep contrition to God for all 
 that he had done contrary to His good pleasure, becoming 
 thus in all things reconciled, he yielded up his wearied spirit 
 to the Creator on the Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy 
 
 ' This treatise is regarded, and we think with very good reason, as certainly 
 spurious by Scartazzini. 
 
THE LIFE OF DANTE. 55 
 
 Cross, in the month of September of this year of our Lord's 
 incarnation, to the intense grief of Giudo, and generally of all 
 the citizens of Ravenna." ^ 
 
 Whatever may have been the excesses and exaggerations 
 of the poet's life there is no doubt that he was a true Christian 
 and a true Catholic. 
 
 His body was laid out according to his express desire in the 
 habit of the Third Order of St. Francis, of which he had long 
 been a member, and was buried in the Church of the Frati 
 Minori at Ravenna. Guido Novello had his funeral rites 
 carried out with all possible dignity and solemnity, after which 
 he himself pronounced a eulogistic oration on the poet, praising 
 in fervid language his vast learning and unrivalled gifts of elo- 
 quence and poetry. He had intended to erect over the exile's 
 grave a magnificent mausoleum, but the troubled times and 
 his own death, which occurred soon after, prevented him from 
 fulfilling his purpose, at least in full. The work commenced 
 by him was afterwards enlarged and embellished by Bernardo 
 Bembo (the cardinal's father) when he was governor of 
 Ravenna, and was finished with all the inscriptions as it 
 stands at present by Cardinal Corsi, who was papal legate 
 in Ravenna in 1702, assisted by the pro-legate Mgr. John 
 Salviati. One of the first epitaphs inscribed on the poet's 
 tomb is said to have been composed by Dante himself,^ as it 
 is headed by the letters S. V. F., interpreted " Sibi Vivens 
 Fecit ". It runs as follows : — 
 
 Jura Monarchiae, Superos, Flegetonta, Lacusque 
 Lustrando cecini, voluerunt fata quousque ; 
 Sed quia pars cessit melioribus hospita Castris, 
 Auctoremque suum petiit felicior astris, 
 Hie condoi Dantes, patriisque extoriis ab oris 
 Quern genuit parvi Florentia mater amoris.' 
 
 ^See Melchior Misserini, "Vita di Dante," p. 175. 
 
 ^ It is more probably the work of Bernardo Canaccio, one of Dante's friends 
 and pupils in poetry. 
 
 ^ See Fraticelli, " Vita di Dante," c. 10. 
 
56 THE LIFE OF DANTE. 
 
 Another inscription was made at a very early date. It 
 was composed by Joannes de Virgilio, a well-known Latin 
 scholar of the time and an intimate friend of Dante. It 
 begins as follows : — 
 
 Theologus Dantes, nullius dogmatis expers, 
 Quod foveat claro philosophia sinu ; 
 Gloria Musarum, vulgo gratissimus auctor 
 Hie jacet, et fama pulsat utrumque polum. 
 
 Several efforts were made by the Florentines to procure 
 the remains of their illustrious countryman, that at least after 
 his death they might repair, by honouring his memory, the 
 wrong that they had done him during life ; but the inhabitants 
 of Ravenna refused to give up what they considered the most 
 precious of their treasures. In their desire to give a last 
 resting-place to the bones of the great man whom their fore- 
 fathers had driven out, the Florentines of the sixteenth 
 century approached their countryman. Pope Leo X., in the 
 hope that for the sake of his native city he would prevail 
 on Ravenna to deliver up to them the sacred remains of 
 the poet ; but the Pope could not see his way to yield to their 
 entreaties and the ashes of the exile were allowed to rest in 
 peace. It was on this occasion that Michael Angelo offered 
 to carve the statue of the poet that was to be placed on the 
 tomb ; but as the project failed he was not called upon to 
 execute the work. The Florentines, however, were determined 
 as far as in them lay to atone for their former harshness and 
 injustice. Art had already honoured their great countryman. 
 His figure had been painted by Giotto in the Chapel of the 
 Podesta. This portrait, known as the " Bargello," was one of 
 the figures of a grand religious picture in which the figure of 
 Christ was represented above supported by saints and angels, 
 whilst below were kings and the great people of the city of 
 Florence amongst whom Dante stood with a pomegranate in 
 his hand. Another portrait of Dante was painted on the 
 wall of Santa Croce, another in the Church of the Holy 
 
THE LIFE OF DANTE. 57 
 
 Trinity, and one by Andrea del Sarto in the palace of the 
 Carducci.^ 
 
 Many other memorials of the poet were designed and 
 executed in subsequent years. Finally, in 1829, a monu- 
 ment to his memory was erected in Santa Croce. It was 
 carved by Stefano Ricci ; but it is certainly no credit to the 
 art of the nineteenth century. Dante Allighieri deserves a 
 better monument in the city of his birth, and at some future 
 celebration of his memory it is sure to be erected. 
 
 ' The history of these portraits has been told with interest by Professor 
 Charles Eliot Norton of Harvard University, New England. 
 
58 
 
 THE DIVINE COMEDY. 
 
 The " Divine Comedy " has often been compared to one of 
 those great cathedrals of the Middle Ages ^ which, though 
 treasure houses of art and structures of great scientific per- 
 fection, are above all things else, temples of worship and 
 monuments of man's homage to the Creator and of his 
 gratitude to the Redeemer of the world. What we admire in 
 them is not confined to the material building, nor to the 
 harmony of proportions, nor to the lofty height of the vaults 
 and roofs. Our wonder extends to all that these denote — 
 to ithe science, the taste, the intelligence, the delicacy, the 
 life, and, beyond all, to the faith of the ages in which they 
 were built. We have in them, as it were, a synopsis of all 
 the arts and sciences and industries of the period to which 
 they belong. Engineering, mechanics, optics, acoustics, 
 metallurgy, chemistry, painting, ' statuary, mosaic, all con- 
 
 'Take for instance Longfellow's three beautiful sonnets, the first of which 
 starts the comparison : — 
 
 Oft have I seen at some cathedral door 
 A labourer, pausing in the dust and heat. 
 Lay down his burden and with reverent feet 
 Enter, and cross himself and on the floor 
 
 Kneel to repeat his Paternoster o'er. 
 Far off the noises of the world retreat : 
 The loud vociferations of the street 
 Become an undistinguishable roar : 
 
 So as I enter here from day to day 
 And leave my burden at this minster gate, 
 Kneeling in prayer and not ashamed to pray, 
 
 The tumult of the time disconsolate 
 To inarticulate murmurs dies away, 
 While the eternal ages watch and wait. 
 
THE DIVINE COMEDY. 59 
 
 tribute their share to the edifice. The sanctuaries and sacristies 
 display specimens of gilding, enamelling, gold-work, tapestry, 
 embroidery, wood -carving, sculpture, which, with all our ad- 
 vantages, we can scarcely imitate. Inseparably associated 
 with these are the masterpieces of music and prayer which 
 sprung from the same movement that brought them into 
 existence, the " Te Deum," the " Dies Irae," the " Stabat 
 Mater," the " Salve Regina". Stained glass too had no small 
 part in embellishing the holy place and in making it solemn 
 and devotional as becomes a temple. " The heavens proclaim 
 the majesty of God," says the Psalmist, but these treasures 
 glorify the mystery of the Incarnation and acknowledge, at 
 the same time, the supreme power and dominion of the Creator. 
 The " Divine Comedy " is marked by similar characteristics. 
 It is essentially a work of faith. When all its ornaments and 
 details have been duly considered and when all its secondary 
 motives get their share of recognition, the one supreme object 
 of the author, the splendid result of his design, stands out 
 before us in clear and impressive grandeur. It is the homage 
 of a great mind to the Supreme Ruler of the world, to the 
 Author of all beauty, truth and goodness ; whilst it expresses 
 to the Son of God made Man, the gratitude of the Christian 
 and the Catholic for the work of the Redemption. 
 
 Subject, however, to this one all-embracing purpose, the 
 variety of details, of symbols, of ornament, of motives, is 
 almost endless. Everything of importance that was known in 
 the time of Dante in the arts and sciences, in history, philo- 
 sophy and theology, in the natural or supernatural world, 
 is introduced into his treasury. Many things that have 
 since become manifest were anticipated and shadowed 
 forth. The very fashions and follies and domestic customs 
 of the time are held up before us in the most life-like 
 pictures. The impressions and sensations which are felt under 
 the charm of music are reawakened and almost renewed 
 by the poet's description of them. He leads us without 
 
60 THE DIVINE COMEDY. 
 
 an effort, and merely by way of bringing out some deeper 
 thought, into all his ideas about painting, sculpture, design. 
 Things that impressed him on his travels, or in books of 
 history or fable, are worked into his rhymes with perfect 
 appropriateness. Whole events are crystallised in a phrase 
 sometimes doubled and trebled with significance. The in- 
 ward secrets of nature he often draws to the surface and then 
 sets them like gems in his verse to enlighten and beautify the 
 most abstract themes. Light and heat and colour dissolve 
 before him and supply the brilliancy, the degree, or the shade 
 that he requires. He is a master of the Ptolemaic system of 
 astronomy. The heathen mythology such as it was accepted 
 in Rome is to him a household possession. He is versed in 
 the laws of physiology and therapeutics. He knows the 
 maxims and the ways of civil and ecclesiastical courts, the 
 principles of metaphysics, the ethics of Greece, the whole 
 range of the scholastic philosophy. No matter how unpoeti- 
 cal such things may sound when taken by themselves, yet in 
 the hands of Dante they are transformed. With him the 
 hardest thoughts and most rigid deductions, condensed 
 though they may be in complex and synthetic expression, 
 acquire a distinctness even in the imagination which it is im- 
 possible to mistake, and give to his poetry a depth of meaning 
 and at the same time a power and dignity which has never 
 been surpassed. 
 
 But all this vast material, beautiful though it may be in 
 itself, when fashioned by the master-hand, serves the higher 
 purpose. It is arranged by the insight of the man of faith, 
 and directed by the judgment of the theologian. Theology is 
 the corner-stone of the structure, the key-note of the poem. 
 All the rest ministers to it and is subserviertt. The divine 
 science holds the dominant place, because, as the poet himself 
 explains in the " Convito " " it is full of all peace and allows no 
 strife of opinion, and of sophisms, on account of the excellent 
 certainty of the subject, which is God. All other sciences are, 
 
THE DIVINE COMEDY. 61 
 
 as Solomon says, but queens or concubines or maidens, but 
 " she is the dove and the perfect one, in whom there is no stain 
 of strife, and who makes us behold the truth in which our soul 
 stills itself and is at rest "} 
 
 In the working out of this vast conception the deepest 
 reflections and most far-reaching thoughts of the poet are 
 often lighted up by illustrations from the simplest things in 
 nature — from the flowerets that are bent and closed by the chill 
 of night, but open out their leaves and straighten themselves 
 upon the stem when the morning sun shines on them again ; 
 from the darkness of night retreating before the dawn ; from 
 the fall and whirling of the autumn leaves ; from the song of 
 the lark and the nightingale ; from the flights of starlings and 
 the circling of doves ; from the habits and motions and graces 
 of children. The simplest thing serves him to adorn as well 
 as to intensify his ideas. 
 
 "Thus," wrote the late Mr. Russell Lowell, "underlying 
 Dante the metaphysician, statesman and theologian, was 
 always Dante the poet, irradiating and vivifying, gleaming 
 through in a picturesque phrase, or touching things un- 
 expectedly with that ideal light which softens and subdues 
 like distance in the landscape. Then that fine sense of remote 
 analogies, awake to the assonance between facts seemingly un- 
 related, between the outward and inward worlds, though con- 
 vinced that the things of this life are shadows, will be per- 
 suaded also that they are not fantastic merely, but imply a 
 substance somewhere and will love to set forth the beauty of 
 the visible image because it suggests the ineffably higher 
 charm of the unseen original." ^ 
 
 The motives which inspired this great work and encouraged 
 its author through years of exile and suffering in the studies 
 and vigils and reflections necessary for its execution, were 
 plainly manifold. Besides the fundamental one already indi- 
 
 ■• 1 " Dante and Other Essays," by Dean Church, p. 85. 
 f '" Literary Essays," vol. iv., p. 166. 
 
62 THE DIVINE COMEDY. 
 
 cated he wished no doubt to leave behind him a monument 
 of his own poetic genius, of his knowledge, and of his literary- 
 skill. He desired to have a lasting medium through which he 
 might express to posterity his hatred and contempt for his 
 enemies, and his admiration for those who had been fortunate 
 enough to win his favour, whether in history or in actual 
 life. 
 
 " There is in the ' Divine Comedy,' " writes M. Fauriel, 
 "a prodigious variety of objects and of pictures, of theories 
 and ideas, some of them inspired by a great variety of per- 
 sonal motives ; for Dante left on almost every page of his 
 work the immortal impress of his passions, and of all that he 
 felt in the diverse phases of his severe destiny." ''■ 
 
 But undoubtedly the immediate purpose, though not the 
 fundamental one, was the intention of celebrating Beatrice 
 Portinari, and of raising in memory of his love for her a 
 monument to which both "heaven and earth should lend a 
 hand ". And if she now becomes spiritualised and is made to 
 represent grace, or theology, or wisdom, she does not cease 
 on that account -to be the human creature who first inspired 
 the poet with noble thoughts, and raised him, as he says, 
 " above the vulgar crowd ". 
 
 The "Divine Comedy" was wholly composed during the 
 years that intervened between Dante's banishment and his 
 death.^ We are told in the Ilarian letter that when the 
 poet confided the " Inferno " to Fra Ilario of Santa Croce 
 del Corvo, and the good friar observed that it seemed impos- 
 sible to him such lofty thoughts could be appreciated in the 
 vulgar tongue, Dante replied that he too was originally of 
 the same opinion, and had actually commenced his poem in 
 the lines : — 
 
 ' " Dante et les Origines de la Langue et de la Litterature Italiennes," 
 vol. i., p. 447. 
 
 ^ There is some question of a few cantos having been written before he left 
 Florence, but we believe the story of their discovery is a fable. 
 
THE DIVINE COMEDY. 63 
 
 Ultima regna canam, fluido contermina mundo, 
 Spiritibus quae late patent, quae praemia solvunt, 
 Pro meiitis cuicumque suis. 
 
 "But," he added, "when I thought of the condition of the 
 present age, and saw the works of the greatest poets fall into 
 disrepute, and that the people for whom these things were 
 chiefly written in former times had abandoned the liberal arts, 
 I threw my little work away, and set my thoughts to words 
 suited to the modern ear." ^ 
 
 The result of this decision was the trilogy such as we now 
 possess it. Its three parts, Hell, Purgatory and Paradise, 
 deal with the future life in all its phases and realities. Each 
 part is divided into thirty-three cantos, in memory of the 
 years spent on earth by Our Lord. There are in all a 
 hundred cantos, but the first one, usually included in the 
 " Inferno," may be regarded as a prelude or introduction to 
 the whole work. 
 
 The poem is written in " terza rima," each line composed 
 of eleven syllables, and, disposed in iambic measure, rhyming 
 with the second line following. The lines thus arranged are 
 formed into triplets or stanzas of three verses, with one re- 
 dundant verse, or " ritornello " at the end of each canto. The 
 work was called a " Comedy " by Dante himself. It was 
 posterity that added to it the title of "Divine". Castelvetro 
 and others hold that the title of " Comedy " is a misnomer ; 
 because the ridiculous element is wanting, or at least does not 
 prevail in the work, and because its personages are too exalted 
 to admit of such a title. 
 
 But Dante himself explains the reason of his choice. In his 
 -work, "De Vulgari Eloquio," he distinguishes only three styles, 
 the tragic, the comic and the elegiac ; and as his own work 
 
 ' Although this letter comes down from the days of Boccaccio, and the MS. 
 is actually in Boccaccio's handwriting, yet its authenticity seems more than 
 doubtful ; and we quote its assertion on this point only because it is possible 
 that some of the statements contained in it are true, and this one seems to us at 
 least antecedently probable. 
 
64 THE DIVINE COMEDY. 
 
 could not come under the designation of tragic or elegiac it 
 was natural that it should have been called a "Comedy". 
 Moreover, in his dedicatory letter to Can Grande della Scala, 
 the author states that he calls his poem a "Comedy," because 
 it is in the medium style and the vulgar tongue, and because 
 it is conducted in the form of a dialogue and has a happy 
 ending. These reasons have satisfied Tasso, Maffei, Morando, 
 Fontanini, and all who are not of an excessively critical 
 disposition. 
 
 The " Divine Comedy," perhaps more than any other poem, 
 is remarkable for the abundance of allegories and hidden 
 senses which run through it from beginning to end, and which 
 often give a strange sound to the verses and make them diffi- 
 cult of comprehension. 
 
 "To the illustration and carrying out of this interior 
 meaning," writes Mr. Norton, "even the minutest details of 
 external incident are made to contribute with an appropriate- 
 ness of significance and with a freedom from forced interpreta- 
 tion or artificiality of construction such as no other writer of 
 allegory has succeeded in attaining." ^ 
 
 This complexity of meaning is explained by Dante him- 
 self in his dedicatory letter to Can Grande, where he points 
 out that the same lines may have a literal sense, a moral 
 sense, an allegorical sense and an anagogic sense, according to 
 the principle embodied in the Latin couplet of the Scriptural 
 interpreters of the period : — 
 
 Litera gesta lefert ; quid credas allegoria ; 
 Moralis quid agas ; quid speres anagogia. 
 
 And to make his meaning quite clear Dante takes as an 
 example the lines of the Psalm : " In exitu Israel de Egypto, 
 domus Jacob de populo barbaro : facta est Judaea sanctificatio 
 ejus, Israel potestas ejus".^ If in these lines we look to the 
 
 ' Introduction to the " Divine Comedy of Dante," translated by C. E. 
 Norton, Cambridge, Mass. 
 ' Psalm cxiv. i, 2. 
 
THE DIVINE COMEDY. 65 
 
 letter alone, we see nothing in them except the departure of 
 the children of Israel from Egypt in the time of Moses : but 
 there is in them besides an allegorical meaning, which signifies 
 our redemption through Christ ; a moral meaning, which indi- 
 cates the conversion of the soul from the sorrow and misery of 
 sin to the state of grace ; and an anagogic meaning, which 
 signifies the passage of the sanctified soul from the slavery of 
 this corruption to the liberty of everlasting glory.^ If this 
 complexity makes the study of the poem difficult in the first 
 instance, it undoubtedly adds to its permanent value as well 
 as to its actual interest and force when the full meaning of 
 the verses has once been realised. 
 
 According to the cosmography of the Middle Ages the 
 earth was the centre of the universe, and in its northern 
 hemisphere, midway between the Ganges and the Pillars of 
 Hercules, stood Jerusalem. When Lucifer was hurled down 
 from heaven he was driven to the very centre of the earth, the 
 farthest point from the light and love of God, the region of 
 eternal darkness. It was in the interior therefore of our 
 hemisphere that Hell was established. The land projected by 
 the cataclysm on the other side of the earth is the Mount of 
 Purgatory, from the summit of which Paradise is reached. The 
 shape of Hell is that of an inverted cone, funnelled in the in- 
 terior, with galleries or circles that grow narrower till they reach 
 the centre. From the entrance downwards the pain varies 
 according to the guilt of the sinner. At the point of the 
 cone, at the centre of the earth, where the weight of all the 
 torments is concentrated, dwells Lucifer, the arch-fiend and 
 ruler of these realms of woe. There are in all nine great 
 circles, corresponding to the nine orders of the angelic hier- 
 archy ; but as the heathen mythology was only a counterfeit 
 and grotesque distortion of the truth, its heroes are here intro- 
 duced as a sort of infernal hierarchy, ministering to Satan in 
 
 1 See " Dante's Eleven Letters," by Charles Sterret Latham, p. 193. 
 
 5 
 
66 THE DIVINE COMEDY. 
 
 the government of these divisions. In heaven God is served 
 by seraphim and cherubim, by dominations, virtues, powers, 
 princes, angels and archangels, whilst Satan has at his service 
 furies, centaurs, harpies, giants, monsters, Charon, Pluto, Minos, 
 Phlegyas, etc. 
 
 The cornices or circles of the Mountain of Purgatory are 
 ruled by angels. The whole journey is represented as having 
 occupied ten days, from Holy Thursday to Low Sunday. On 
 Good Friday Hell is entered, and is left on Easter Sunday. 
 The following week is divided between Purgatory and Heaven. 
 
 It is well to bear in mind that Virgil all through symbolises 
 human reason, secular government, the civil monarchy, the 
 ideal emperor, and all the natural qualities of prudence, 
 justice, moderation and fortitude which are characteristic of 
 the natural man at his best ; whereas Beatrice represents grace, 
 theology, the papacy, the Church, religion and all the in- 
 fluences of the supernatural life which it is the province of 
 religion to set in motion and control. And if Dante claims 
 the independence of the civil order within its own domain, 
 a claim which no one can deny him, he also attributes to the 
 Church the primal impulse that sets it going, a supreme 
 interest in all its movements, a spiritual guardianship to 
 guarantee its security, and a promise of the higher life to 
 those of its citizens who are faithful to her commands. 
 
 In order to understand the genuine sense of this allegory, 
 there are no lines more important than those in which Beat- 
 rice addresses Virgil when she is sending him on his mission. 
 It will be noticed that whilst on the one hand she speaks to 
 him in the imperative mood, " Or muovi". " L'aiuta si." " I'son 
 Beatrice che ti faccio andare," on the other, she uses language 
 of the most gentle persuasiveness ; her eyes shine with a 
 brilliant light ; her voice is soft and measured " soave e piana " ; 
 she acknowledges all Virgil's good qualities, compliments him 
 on his eloquence and on his fame, has confidence in his " pure 
 speech," which does credit to him, and to those who have 
 
THE DIVINE COMEDY. 67 
 
 heard it ; she says that " it is love that moves her and makes her 
 speak," and she weeps for the misfortune of the erring mortal 
 to whose succour she despatches him. This is Dante's con- 
 ception of the authority, the power and methods of the Church, 
 such as they should be exercised in the ideal state of things 
 intended by her Divine Founder.^ 
 
 1 " Inferno," ii. 
 
 Or muovi e con la tua parola ornata, 
 
 E con CIO, che ha mestieri al suo campare, 
 
 L'aiuta si ch'io ne sia consolata. 
 I'son Beatrice, che ti faccio andare : 
 
 Vegno di loco, ove tornai disio : 
 
 Amor mi mosse, che mi fa parlare. 
 Quando sard dinanzi al Signor mio, 
 
 Di te mi lodero sovente a lui, 
 
 Tacette allora e poi commincia io. 
 
68 
 
 HELL. 
 
 Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita 
 
 Mi ritrovai per una selva oscura, 
 
 Chh la diritta via era smarrita. 
 Ahi I quanto a dir qual' era e cosa dura. 
 
 Questa selva selvaggia ed aspra e forte, 
 
 Che nel pensier rinnuova la paura ! 
 Tanto e amara, che poco e piu morte : 
 
 — Inf., Can. I. 
 
 In the mid-way of mortal life, that is, about the age of thirty- 
 five years, the poet finds himself lost in a dark and rugged 
 forest. He cannot tell how he entered this dense wood, so 
 overcome was he with sleep when he abandoned the straight 
 path. After wandering about in anxiety and terror he arrives 
 at the foot of a hill on the ridges of which, away towards the 
 summit, he sees the rays of the sun. The appearance of this 
 light inspires him with hope, and he endeavours to climb the 
 hill in order to escape the darkness and the terror under- 
 neath. He is impeded, however, and repelled by three 
 ferocious beasts — a. panther, a lion and a she-wolf. 
 
 This introduction is an allegory representing man in 
 general as well as the poet himself ; for, when man is lost in 
 the dark mazes of sin three fundamental vices bar his path to 
 grace and virtue. They are sensuality, represented by the 
 panther,^ with speckled skin ; pride, which is symbolised by 
 the lion, with head erect, whose ravening appetite was such 
 that the very air trembled at his approach ; and avarice, 
 which is typified in the lean she-wolf.^ 
 
 ' Dante places the beasts and vices in this order here, because sensuality 
 usually assails man in his youth, pride and ambition in his manhood, and 
 avarice in his old age. 
 
 ' That with all hungerings, 
 Seemed to be laden in her meagreness. 
 
HELL. 69 
 
 As his own personal experience, Dante, then, " in the mid- 
 way of life's journey," felt himself lost in the ways of ambi- 
 tion, and kept down by the love of earthly pleasures, by his 
 desire for wealth, distinction and power. It is even clear 
 that, like his friend Guido Cavalcanti, his faith was under- 
 mined by the study of philosophy, and by the specious argu- 
 ments that, in one guise or another, are ever called into 
 service in the conflict between science and religion. He now 
 realises the fact that these obstacles cannot be easily or 
 readily overcome ; that the sure way to the summit of the hill 
 is by a long and winding path ; in other words, that faith and 
 virtue can only be recovered by dwelling on the great eternal 
 truths, and contemplating man's lot after death, in Hell, 
 Purgatory and Heaven. 
 
 Repelled at every attempt by these enemies of his pro- 
 gress, Dante was on the point of losing heart, when a figure 
 appeared to him, " whether shade or man '' he knew not. 
 This was Virgil, the poet's favourite author, the most perfect 
 of the ancients, and the one whose life had been most in 
 accord with unaided reason.^ Virgil explains who he is, and 
 why he came. He was a man once, and his parents were 
 Lombards and natives of Mantua. He was born late in the 
 reign of Augustus, in the time of the "false and lying gods " 
 " Poet was I, and sang of that just son of Anchises, who came 
 from Troy after proud Illium was burned." Dante appeals 
 to him for protection against the wolf, which made " his veins 
 and his pulses tremble ". Virgil, however, informs him that it 
 is impossible to pass that beast alive, for : — 
 
 " She has a nature so malign and evil that she never sates 
 her greedy will, and after food is hungrier than before. 
 Many are the animals with which she wives, and there shall 
 be more yet, until the hound ^ shall come that will make her die 
 
 ' See Hettinger, " Div. Com " Trans, by Bowden, pp. 74, 75. 
 ' A great number of treatises and pamphlets have been written to identify 
 the " Veltro " or " hound " here mentioned. Some think a future Pope of the 
 
70 HELL. 
 
 of grief. He shall not feed on land or goods, but on wisdom, 
 and love, and valour, and his birthplace shall be between 
 Feltro and Feltro." ^ 
 
 To rescue Dante from peril Vigil now offers to become his 
 guide. He would bring him into an eternal place in which he 
 should hear the wailings of despair and see the ancient spirits 
 in their pain, each one anxious for a second death. Those 
 also he should see who bear the flames without complaint, sus- 
 tained by hope. Then, if he would ascend among the blessed, 
 a soul more worthy than he was would come to guide him : — 
 
 For that great Emperor who reigns on high, 
 
 Because I lived a rebel to His will 
 Wills that through me none come His city nigh.^ 
 
 Dante, in order to escape the immediate danger that 
 threatens him, readily accepts the offer of Virgil. Subse- 
 quently, however, his resolve is shaken. He is terrified at the 
 
 Dominican Order is intended ; others, some future emperor ; others again, some 
 of the contemporary princes of Italy, such as Can Grande della Scala or Uggu- 
 cione della Faggiuolo. Velutello who published his Commentary in 1544 was, 
 we believe, the first to suggest Can Grande della Scala. He has the majority 
 with him. Count Carlo Troya in his " Veltro AUegorico," published in 1826, 
 contends for Uggucione della Faggiuolo. F. Ponta, S. J., F. Cornoldi, and Pere 
 Berthier, O.P., support the claims of Pope Innocent XI. who was a Dominican. 
 Scartazzini is of opinion that some indeterminate leader is meant and that Dante 
 would probably be more puzzled than any of his commentators if he were asked 
 to name the individual who might prove to be the "Veltro". Mgr. Poletto 
 rejects all definite theories likewise, and is doubtful if any human being was 
 intended. He discusses the question in the valuable supplement to his " Dizion- 
 ario Dantesco" (" Alcuni Studii su Dante Allighieri," pp. 85-iig). If the poet 
 had any definite personage before his mind he was careful to surround him with 
 mystery lest he should prove a failure. 
 
 ^ Ed ha natura si malvagia e ria, 
 
 Che mai non empie le bramose voghe, 
 
 E dopo il pasto ha piu fame che pria. 
 Molti son gli animali, a cui s'ammoglia 
 
 E piu saranno ancora, infin che il Veltro 
 
 Verra, che la fara morir con doglia. 
 Questi non cibera terra ne peltro, 
 
 Ma sapienza e amore e virtute, 
 
 E sua nazion sara tra Feltro e Feltro. 
 ^ " Inferno," canto i. Plumptre's translation. 
 
HELL. 71 
 
 journey and its dangers. He pleads that he is not ^Eneas, 
 whose vision of the other world led to the foundation of Rome 
 and the preparation of the world for " the Papal Cloak " ; that 
 he is not Paul, who, when rapt to the third heaven, had heard 
 secret words "which it is not given to man to utter ".^ The 
 Apostle of the Gentiles, as well as .(Eneas, had a providential 
 mission to fulfil. But he ! What right had he to hope for such 
 a favour ? Virgil, however, encourages him by arguments of 
 natural reason — the only ones at his command. He tells him 
 how Beatrice had come to his aid, and how she had been sent. 
 There is a gentle lady high in heaven (the Blessed Virgin) who 
 took compassion on the wanderer. She calls to herself Lucy, 
 "the enemy of all that is cruel," and recommends the poet to her 
 care. St. Lucy, in consequence, hastens to Beatrice and urges 
 her to rescue her faithful lover. Beatrice at once takes flight 
 to the nether regions and despatches Virgil to guide her friend 
 through Hell and Purgatory.^ She herself will undertake his 
 guidance through Paradise. By her weeping and concern she 
 makes Virgil swifter in his coming, and now he is here to carry 
 out her behests. Since, therefore, three blessed ladies took 
 care of Dante in heaven, and Virgil's own words guaranteed 
 his safety, why should he hesitate ? " Perche, perchfe, ristai ? " 
 These words have a magical effect. Dante's courage re- 
 vives. He returns to his first resolution. 
 
 ' 2 Cor. xii, 2-4. 
 
 ^The three ladies represent the usual process of divine grace according to 
 the teaching of theologians : i.e., prevenient, illuminating and operating grace. 
 The " donna gentile " is the first to move, as all grace comes from above and is 
 freely conferred. St. Lucy appropriately represents illuminating grace, for she 
 in all probability is St. Lucy of Syracuse, who was acknowledged during the 
 Middle Ages as the patron of all who suffered &om weak sight. Dante, himself, 
 " her faithfiri one," had frequently had recourse to her during his student days, 
 when troubled with his eyes. Once the intellect is illumined the next step is to 
 move the will, and this is represented by Beatrice. St. Thomas says : " Sic 
 igitur habitualis gratia inquantum animam sanat vel justificat, sive gratam Deo 
 facit, dicitur gratia operans ; inquantum vero est principium operis meritorii quod 
 ex libero arbitrio procedit, dicitur cooperans ". Summa Theologica, Quaestio 
 Cxi., art. ii. 
 
72 HELL. 
 
 " Even as the little flowers bent down and closed by the 
 frost of night, lift themselves up all open upon their stem as 
 soon as the morning sun shines on them again, so I became 
 with my weak virtue." ^ 
 
 His fears are now entirely surmounted. He delivers him- 
 self to Virgil without reserve, and accepts him with confidence 
 as his guide, his master, and his lord.^ 
 
 THE VESTIBULE OF HELL. 
 CANTO III. 
 
 Per me si va nella cittJl dolente : 
 Per me si va nell' eterno dolore : 
 Per me si va tra la perduta gente. 
 
 Soon after Dante had entered on the deep and woody path, 
 under the guidance of Virgil, the dreaded portal of Hell sud- 
 denly appeared before him. Over it he reads the alarming 
 inscription : — 
 
 "Through me is the way to the city of woe. Through 
 me is the way to eternal sorrow. Through me is the way 
 among the lost people. Justice moved my high creator. 
 The divine power, supreme wisdom and primal love, made 
 me.^ Before me were no created things, but eternal, and I 
 eternally endure. Give up all hope you who enter." 
 
 Dante is concerned about these last words ; but Virgil 
 reassures him, gives him his hand and leads him into the 
 
 ' The reader will notice how beautifiil and how perfectly appropriate are all 
 the similes of Dante. 
 
 2 Quali i fioretti dal notturno gelo 
 
 Chinati e chiusi, poiche '1 sol gl'imbianca, 
 Si drizzan tutti aperti in loro stelo. 
 Tal mi fee' io di mia virtute stanca. 
 
 Infra, canto ii. 
 
 ' All the operations of God " ad extra " must be attributed to the three 
 persons of the Blessed Trinity. The love which God owes to Himself and 
 which makes Him hate sin is the first love of all. 
 
HELL. 73 
 
 secrets of the abyss. There sighs, lamentations, and loud cries 
 of woe, resounded through the starless air. Diverse tongues, 
 horrible dialects, words of anguish, accents of wrath, voices 
 high and hoarse, the clapping and wringing of hands, make 
 a tumult there which goes round for ever like the sand when 
 the whirlwind blows. Dante inquires from Virgil who are 
 the inhabitants of this awful place. He is told that this is 
 the abode of the lukewarm, of those who lived on earth " with- 
 out infamy and without praise "} They are mingled with the 
 caitiff band of angels who, when Lucifer rebelled, were neither 
 rebels nor faithful to God.^ Heaven drove them out because 
 its beauty would have been dimmed by their presence ; nor 
 would the depth of Hell receive them, because the damned 
 below would have some glory on their account. 
 
 Dante had a deep-seated hatred of men who did not act a 
 manly part during life, who did not know how to make up their 
 minds and take a decisive step, but preferred to await events 
 and reserve to themselves freedom to join the successful side. 
 His scorn for them is here expressed in the most scathing 
 words.^ Justice and mercy hold them in equal contempt. 
 They are displeasing to God and to his enemies. 
 
 ' Ed egli a me : questo misero modo 
 Tengon 1' anime triste di colore, 
 Che visser senza infamia, e senza lodo. 
 Mischiate sono a quel cattivo coro 
 Degli Angeli, che non furon ribelli, 
 Nfe fiir fedeli a Dio, ma per se foro. 
 Caccianli i ciel, per non esser men belli. 
 *We have searched through a great number of the works of the Fathers and 
 of the older theologians but could find in them no question of ithe neutrality of 
 any section of the angels on the occasion of the revolt of Lucifer. The idea is 
 clearly borrowed from the " Paradise of the Birds " in the " Voyage of St. Bren- 
 dan ". See page 336. 
 
 ' Questi non hanno speranza di morte : 
 E la lor cieca vita e tanto bassa, 
 Che'nvidiosi son d' ogni altra sorte. 
 Fama di loro il mondo esser non lassa ; 
 Misericordia e giustizia gli sdegna. 
 Non ragionam di lor, ma guarda, e passa. 
 
74 HELL. 
 
 " Non ragionam di lor, ma guarda, e passa." ^ 
 These wretched souls are so numerous that Dante did not 
 think death had ever undone so many ; they are naked here 
 and stung by gadflies and by wasps ; their faces are streaked 
 with blood mingled with tears which are harvested at their 
 feet by loathsome worms. Amongst them the poet says : " I 
 saw and knew the shade of him who made through cowardice 
 the great refusal "? 
 
 As Dante turns away his eyes from the caitiffs he sees 
 people on the bank of a great river, which Virgil tells him is 
 the Acheron, and towards them, in a boat, came an old man, 
 white with ancient locks, crying : " Woe to you, guilty souls. 
 Hope nevermore to see heaven. I come to bring you to the 
 other shore, into eternal darkness, heat and ice." The heathen 
 mythology being only a grotesque mimicry of the orders of 
 the heavenly hierarchy, its personages are fitly introduced by 
 Dante as the guardians of Hell. Hence it is Charon who is 
 employed to ferry the souls across ; to transfer " Adam's evil 
 brood " to the other side. The souls who wait along the 
 shore, goaded here by stern justice from all parts of the world. 
 
 ' Let us not speak of them but look and pass. 
 ^Vidi e conobbi I'ombra di colui 
 Che fece per viltade il gran rifiuto. 
 Who this individual was Dante never divulged, and the qaestion has 
 given rise to a great deal of controversy. Some think that Esau is meant, 
 who sold his birthright for a mess of pottage. Others suggest Diocletian, who 
 abdicated in his old age. But as Dante says he " knew " the shade, it is believed 
 that it must have been some one he knew by sight. Hence, Vieri Cerchi, the 
 leader of the " Bianchi " at Florence, who shut himself up in his palace when the 
 " Neri " were murdering his followers, is believed by some to have been intended. 
 This view is very skilfully presented by Dr. Barlow in a letter to the A thenceum 
 ef April, 1862. Dante's son, Pietro, was the first to suggest that Pope Celestine 
 v., who resigned the papacy and was succeeded by Boniface VIII., is the person- 
 age referred to, Boccaccio and the author of the " Ottimo " express doubt about 
 the interpretation of Pietro. Benvenuto is certain that Celestine could not have 
 been intended, as he resigned " non ex vilitate sed ex magnanimitate "- Pet- 
 rarch, Buti, Landino, Barcellini and Lombardi all reject the idea that Celestine 
 was intended. Scartazzini thinks that Dante did not wish to reveal the identity 
 of the shade, but left it to commentators to guess. 
 
HELL. 75. 
 
 are terrified at his words, change their colour, become livid, 
 gnash their teeth, blaspheme God, curse their parents, the 
 whole human race, the place, the time, the seed of their en- 
 gendering and of their birth. Charon strikes them with his- 
 oar in case they delay or trouble him on the passage. 
 
 And as in Autumn time the sere leaves fall ■* 
 
 Each after other till the branch left bare 
 Yields to the earth its spoils funereal : 
 
 In like wise Adam's evil offspring fare. 
 They &om that shore leap, beckoned one by one, 
 
 As havifk that at its lure swoops down through air, 
 So they o'er these dark waters swift are gone ; 
 
 And ere on the other side they disembark, 
 On this another troop together run. 
 
 — Plumptre's Translation. 
 
 The earth now trembles under the poet's feet. The atmo- 
 sphere is lighted up with a crimson glare, which so frightens 
 Dante that he falls unconscious to the ground. 
 
 THE FIRST CIRCLE. 
 
 LIMBO. CANTO IV. 
 
 The poet is recalled from his swoon by the noise of 
 thunder. On awaking he finds himself beyond the Acheron, 
 on the very verge of the abyss. He looks for a moment into 
 its depths ; but they are so profound that he can discern 
 nothing. Virgil proposes to him to descend, but is pale as 
 death itself whilst he is speaking. Dante thinks he is fright- 
 ened, and asks how can he be expected to go down if even 
 Virgil is terrified at ^the prospect. Virgil, however, explains 
 that it is the colour and anguish of the people down below- 
 
 ' Milton evidently had this beautiful simile before his mind when he spoke- 
 of the legions of Lucifer as being — 
 
 Thick as autumnal leaves that strow the brooks 
 In Vallombrosa, where th' Etrurian shades, 
 High overarch'd, imbower. 
 
 — " Paradise Lost," book i. 
 
76 HELL. 
 
 that are reflected on his face. He hastens onward, and Dante 
 follows him into the first circle. 
 
 The inhabitants of this first chasm are the spirits of the 
 blameless heathen, and of the infants who died without 
 baptism. There are no loud lamentations here, but merely 
 sighs that make the air tremble. They suffer the pain of loss, 
 the torture of the mind at being debarred for ever from the 
 sight of God, but are not subjected to physical punishment. 
 Natural merit will not save those who live under the christian 
 dispensation. Baptism is essential. Those who lived before 
 Christ, but did not worship God according to the Mosaic law, 
 are lost, no matter what their natural gifts and good qualities. 
 To this last category Virgil confesses that he himself 
 belongs.^ 
 
 Dante, then, remembering the doctrine of the Creed, that 
 Our Lord descended into Limbo after His death, and before 
 His resurrection, and rescued from prison the souls of the 
 faithful who died before the Redemption, questions Virgil as 
 to the certainty of this dogma. Virgil replies that he was 
 still a new-comer in this place when he saw the Mighty One 
 •descend, crowned with the sign of victory. From this abode 
 He took away our first parent Adam, Abel his son, Noah, 
 Moses, Abraham, Jacob, Rachel, and many others, and trans- 
 ferred them to heaven amongst the angelic choirs ; and before 
 these none were saved. 
 
 But now a light overcomes the hemisphere of darkness 
 that loomed before them, and a voice is heard saying, 
 " Honour the highest poet. His shade returns which had 
 departed." This was the united salutation to Virgil of four 
 great poets of antiquity. Virgil calls attention to one of them 
 
 ^ For such defects {i.e., for want of Baptism and Faith), and for no other 
 .guilt, are we lost, and only so far afflicted that without hope we live in desire. 
 Per tai difetti, non per altro rio, 
 Semo perduti, e sol di tanto offeso, 
 Che senza speme vivemo in disio. 
 
HELL. 77 
 
 who goes before the others like a lord, with a sword in his 
 hand. That one was Homer, " the sovereign poet,'' the next, 
 Horace, the third, Ovid, and the fourth, Lucan. Still greater 
 honour is paid to Homer than that of designating him the 
 " sovereign poet," for Dante continues : " Thus did I see 
 assemble the noble school of that lord of highest song who 
 soars like an eagle above the others".^ They paid Dante 
 the highest honour in their power by making him one of their 
 company, so that he was the sixth in this great academy. As 
 the six poets proceeded together, engaged in learned con- 
 versation, they came to the foot of a noble castle, seven times 
 begirt with lofty walls, and defended about by a fair rivulet.^ 
 They cross this stream as if it were dry ground, and pass 
 through seven gates into a meadow of fresh verdure, where 
 there were people moving about majestically with great 
 authority in their countenances. These were the sages and 
 heroes of antiquity. The noble castle represents the temple 
 of genius and learning. The seven walls represent seven 
 virtues ; three intellectual, viz., wisdom, knowledge, under- 
 standing ; and four moral — prudence, temperance, justice and 
 fortitude. The stream is the symbol of eloquence • and 
 
 ' Cos! vidi adunai la bella schola 
 
 Di quei signor dell' altissimo canto 
 Che sopia gli altii com 'aquila vola. 
 
 ^ Venimmo al pie d' un nobile castello, 
 
 Sette volte cerchiato d' alte muia, 
 
 Difeso 'ntorno d' un bel fiumicello. 
 Questo passamo, come terra dura : 
 
 Per sette porte intra! con questi savi : 
 
 Giugnemmo in prato di &esca verdura. 
 Genti v' eran, con occhi tardi e gravi, 
 
 Di grande autorita ne' lor sembianti : 
 
 Parlavan rado con voci soavi. 
 Traeramoci cosi dall' un de' canti, 
 
 In luogo aperto, luminoso, ed alto, 
 
 Si cbe veder si potean tutti quanti. 
 Col£L diritto, sopra '1 verde smalto, 
 
 Mi fui mostrati gli spirit! magni, 
 
 Che di vederii in me stesso n' esalto. 
 
78 HELL. 
 
 the seven gates represent the seven arts of the Trivium and 
 Quadrivium.^ 
 
 The poet then mentions by name some of those who were 
 •moving over the " green enamel," ^ who spoke seldom, and 
 with gentle voices. First come those who were directly or 
 indirectly concerned in the foundation and building up of the 
 Roman State. There was Electra, whose son Dardanus 
 founded Troy ; Hector, who defended Troy against the 
 Greeks ; .(Eneas, the virtual founder of Rome ; and Caesar, the 
 founder of the Empire ; Camilla, who fought and died for 
 Rome, as Penthesilea did for Troy. Latinus, too, was there, 
 and Lavinia his daughter. So was Brutus, who drove 
 Tarquin out. The heroines of Roman life, Lucretia, Julia, 
 Marcia and Cornelia, are likewise there ; and alone by himself 
 was Saladin, the rival of Richard Cceur de Lion, the most 
 magnanimous of the Saracen enemies of Christianity. Away 
 in another direction he sees " the master of those that know," * 
 Aristotle, the greatest of philosophers. Near him were 
 
 ' The course of the Trivium included logic, grammar and rhetoric. 
 That of the Quadrivium, arithmetic, music, geometry and astronomy. 
 
 ' " I am very sure," writes Ruskin, " that Dante did not use this phrase as 
 we use it. He knew well what enamel was ; and his readers, in order to under- 
 stand him thoroughly, must remember what it is — a vitreous paste dissolved in 
 water, mixed with metallic oxides to give it the opacity and the colour required, 
 spread in a moist state on metal, and afterwards hardened by fire so as never to 
 change. And Dante means, in using this metaphor of the grass of the Inferno, 
 to mark that it is laid as a tempering and cooling substance over the dark, 
 metallic, gloomy ground ; but yet so hardened by the fire that it is not any more 
 fresh or living grass, but a smooth, silent, lifeless bed of eternal green. And we 
 know how hard Dante's idea of it was ; because afterwards, in what is perhaps 
 the most awful passage of the whole " Inferno," when the three furies rise at the 
 top of the burning tower, and catching sight of Dante and not being able to get 
 at him, shriek wildly for the Gorgon to come up too, that he may turn him into 
 stone — the word stone is not hard enough for them. Stone might crumble away 
 after it was made, or something with life might grow upon it. No, it shall not be 
 stone ; they will make enamel of him. Nothing can grow out of that. It is 
 dead for ever." 
 
 " Venga Medusa : si lo farem di smalto." 
 
 — " Modern Painters," vol. iii., 236-237. 
 
 ''II maestro di color che sanno. 
 
HELL. 79 
 
 Socrates and Plato ; and close around the other members 
 of his philosophical family — Democritus, who ascribed the 
 world to chance ; Diogenes, Anaxagoras and Thales ; Empe- 
 docles, Heraclitus and Zeno. There, too, were Dioscorides, 
 the good collector of qualities, Orpheus, Cicero and Linus, 
 Seneca the moralist, Euclid the geometrician, Ptolemy, Hip- 
 pocrates, Avicenna and Galen ; and finally Averroes,i who 
 made the vast commentary. Dante tells us later on, in 
 " Purgatory," that in this company were also Terence, Plautus, 
 Varro, Anacreon, Simonides, Agatho, Antigone, Deiphile, 
 Hypsipile and Thetis. But the four poets have now dis- 
 appeared, and Dante finds himself once more alone with 
 Virgil, passing on into a region where there is no ray of 
 light. 
 
 THE SECOND CIRCLE. 
 CANTO V. 
 
 At the entrance to the second circle stands Minos, the 
 grim judge of Hades, who examines the culprits, and decides 
 to what circle they are to be sent. There are always many 
 standing before him. They go up to the judgment seat, tell 
 their sins, receive their sentence, and are hurled down. In 
 the circle immediately inside the judge's court carnal sinners 
 are punished. Their cries of despair are already audible. 
 On the precipitous edge of the cliff down which they are 
 hurled they shriek and wail and blaspheme the divine power. 
 In their new abode a tempest blows that bears them round 
 unceasingly,^ whirling and buffeting them, so as to cause 
 
 ' Aveiroes, the famous Arabian, who was born at Cordova in 1126, had 
 translated the works of Aristotle, and written for each of them a commentary of 
 his own. 
 
 ' E come gli stornei ne portan I'ali 
 
 Nel freddo tempo, a schiera larga e plena, 
 Cosi quel fiato gli spirit! mali. 
 
80 HELL. 
 
 them endless suffering. They are like starlings " in the cold 
 time," when their wings droop and the wind blows them on 
 before it. They have not only no hope of any rest, but not 
 even of the slightest alleviation of their pain. And as cranes 
 go chanting their lays, forming themselves into a long line in 
 the air, these souls, borne along by the winds, come uttering 
 lamentations. The whirlwind that blows them around is 
 symbolic of the tumult of their passions. 
 
 Amongst the most remarkable of these votaries of sen- 
 suality were to be seen — Semiramis, who, in order to remove 
 the blame from herself, made crimes of immorality lawful in 
 her code ; Dido, who broke faith with the ashes of Sichaeus ; 
 the licentious Cleopatra ; Helen of Troy ; Achilles, the lover of 
 Polyxena. There, too, were Paris and Tristan,^ and a regular 
 troop of ancient ladies and of knights. Two souls in par- 
 ticular attract the poet's attention as they fly around together, 
 and seem so light upon the wind. They are Francesca da 
 Rimini and Paul Malatesta. Even in death and punishment 
 they are not separated. At a loud appeal from Dante they 
 come towards him through the malignant air. Francesca tells 
 the cause of her misfortune, the whole story of her infatua- 
 tion for Paolo, the circumstances of her lapse from virtue 
 through reading the romance of Lancelot and Guinevere. 
 
 Di qua, di la, di giu, di su, gli mena. 
 
 Nulla speranza gli conforta mai, 
 
 Non che di posa ma di minor pena. 
 E come i gru van cantando loi lai, 
 
 Facendo in aer di se lunga riga ; 
 
 Cosi vid'io venir, traendo guai, 
 Ombre portate della delta briga. 
 
 — Infra, canto v. 
 
 1 A full account of the Romance of Tristan and Isolde will be found in 
 Dunlop's " History of Fiction ". Isolde was probably the daughter of a King of 
 Leinster. It is from her the little town of Chapelizod derives its name. Paris, 
 the lover of Helen, and Tristan, the lover of Isolde, were usually coupled in the 
 poetry of the Middle Ages. 
 
HELL. 81 
 
 She begins her story, in reply to Dante, with the well known 
 words : — 
 
 Nessum maggior dolore 
 Che ricordarsi del tempo felice 
 Nella miseria.^ 
 
 She then proceeds to give the account of her misfortune, 
 which occupies about forty lines at the end of canto v. In 
 these forty lines Dante has, in the opinion of Foscolo and 
 others, condensed as much passion and dramatic energy as 
 Shakespeare in the whole tragedy of Romeo and Juliet.^ 
 Dante is often condemned for having recorded this stain on 
 the family of a friend and a benefactor ; for Francesca was the 
 sister of Guido Novello da Polenta, who gave him hospitality 
 during the closing years of his life, and did all in his power 
 to mitigate the hardships of his exile. 
 
 Dante had probably known Francesca in her infancy and 
 youth, and all the obligations of gratitude and friendship 
 would seem to require that he should omit from his works 
 all allusion to an episode so painful to his friends. Dante, 
 however, acted entirely according to the principles of poetry 
 in dealing with an event which had caused such a sensation in 
 his day. It was on every one's lips. It had become part of 
 the romantic history of the time. By introducing Francesca 
 into his work, he gives her a celebrity which popular tradition 
 could not bestow. To satisfy the divine anger he places her 
 in hell. Having thus done his duty to stern justice, he 
 introduces into his verses every element of pity that could 
 alleviate the sentence. In this way, and in this way only, could 
 he show his friendship for Francesca and his gratitude to 
 her family. 
 
 ' See Tennyson, " Locksley Hall" : — 
 
 This is truth the poet sings 
 That a sorrow's crown of sorrow is remembering happier things. 
 2 See Art. in " Edinburgh Review," Sept., i8i8, p. M°- 1 f^ "U^i^ 
 
 6 
 
82 HELL. 
 
 THE THIRD CIRCLE. 
 
 CANTO VI. 
 
 In the third circle the gluttons are punished. Its entrance 
 is guarded by Cerberus. This cruel monster barks like a dog 
 from three distinct throats. His eyes are red, his beard dark 
 and befouled, his belly large, his paws armed with talons.^ 
 He tears the souls and flays them as they pass.^ At the 
 approach of Virgil and Dante he becomes furious, shows his 
 teeth and quivers with rage. Virgil throws some earth down 
 his throats, and so keeps him occupied while they are passing 
 the gate. 
 
 A rain — unending, accursed, cold and heavy — falls down 
 here upon the souls ; and as it mingles with the earth beneath 
 it causes a putrid stench, which is a permanent offence to 
 nostrils that had been flattered during life. 
 
 Amongst the souls that lay recumbent under this ever- 
 lasting rain was one Ciacco^ of Florence, a well-known glutton, 
 
 ' Cerberus is naturally the symbol here of gluttony in all its excess. His 
 eyes are red like those of a drunkard ; his large belly shows that it is frequently 
 gorged ; his paws indicate rapacity, and his dark and filthy beard recalls one of 
 the most striking characteristics of those who go to excess either in eating or 
 drinking. 
 
 " Compare Virgil's description of Cerberus : — 
 
 Cerberus h^ec ingens latratu regna trifauci 
 Personat, adverse recubans immanis in antro, 
 Cui vates horrere videns jam coUa colubris, 
 Melle soporatam et medicatis frugibus ossam 
 Objicit : ille fame rabida tria guttura pandens 
 Corripit, objectam atque immania terga resolvit 
 Fusus humi, totoque ingens extenditur antro. 
 
 — ^neid, vi. 
 * Ed egli a me : la tua Citti, ch' e plena 
 D' invidia si, che gia trabocca il sacco, 
 Seco mi tenne in la vita serena. 
 Voi cittadini, mi chiamaste Ciacco : 
 Per la dannosa colpa della gola, 
 Come tu vedi, alia pioggia mi iiacco. 
 Ciacco was a nickname which, on account of its imitation of the sound 
 made by a wild boar when crunching an acorn, was given to this accomplished 
 glutton. 
 
HELL. 83 
 
 who, invited or uninvited, attended every banquet that was 
 given in the city during a great part of his lifetime. Dante 
 enters into conversation with Ciacco, and obtains from him 
 certain predictions as to the course political events were to 
 take in his native city. Ciacco is then asked as to the where- 
 abouts of some famous citizens who have already died, amongst 
 them Farinata degli Uberti, Tegghiaio, Jacopo Rusticucci, 
 Oderigo Fifanti, and Mosca de Lamberti. He replies that 
 they are down in the lower part of Hell, amongst the blackest 
 spirits. Dante then turns to Virgil and inquires from him 
 whether the pain of the souls will be increased or diminished 
 after the last judgment. Virgil refers him to the teaching of 
 Aristotle, that the more perfect any created thing is in its 
 nature, the more capable it is of pleasure and of pain. And 
 as the soul when united to the body is more perfect than when 
 it exists apart, it will be more capable of pain when reunited, 
 and will suffer accordingly. Whilst engaged in conversation 
 of this kind the wayfarers arrive at the fourth circle, of which 
 Plutus is the guardian. 
 
 THE FOURTH CIRCLE. 
 
 CANTO VII. 
 
 Plutus is described as a demon with hoarse voice and with 
 lips inflated, symbolising the pride of wealth. "^ He shouts at 
 
 ^ The Pluto mentioned here is evidently the pagan Plutus, the god of 
 riches, son of Jason and Ceres, not Pluto, god of the infernal regions, son of 
 Saturn and Opis. There are all sorts of interpretations of the opening lines of 
 the seventh canto, in which Plutus says : — 
 
 " Pape Satan, Pape Satan, Aleppe ". 
 Some think they are a corruption of the cry in the French mediaeval courts : 
 " Pas pais, Satan ! Pas pais, Satan ! Al'Epee" Others think they are Heb- 
 rew words, corrupted also, yet distinct enough. Others again would make them 
 Greek, Venetian, Lombardic, etc. Mgr. Poletto, following the example of 
 Costa and Foscolo, gives up all hope of translating them, and thinks they are 
 merely bestial vociferations of the demon Plutus, not having, and not intended to 
 have, any signification but that of anger and rage. We think this by far the 
 most probable interpretation. See Poletto, "Dizionario Dantesco," vol v., 
 p. 80. 
 
84 HELL. 
 
 the approach of Virgil and Dante, and calls the attention of 
 the arch-fiend himself to the intruders. But a word from 
 Virgil, threatening the vengeance of heaven upon him, makes 
 him fall to the ground like the sails of a ship when the mast 
 gives way. The wayfarers then pass in to the fourth enclosure, 
 where the misers and the prodigals are made to herd together. 
 Their mutual hatred makes them form into opposing bands, 
 which attack one another without ceasing, reminding one 
 another at each encounter of the degrading vices that have 
 brought them down. Amongst them are clerics and cardinals 
 and popes. 
 
 " Now, my son, thou canst discern the short-lived vanity 
 of those possessions that are committed to fortune, for which 
 the human race is ever wrangling. For all the gold that is 
 under the moon, or that ever existed, would not give rest to 
 one of these weary souls." ^ 
 
 This fortune, that makes people so contentious, is hidden 
 like a snake in the grass. It enters, however, into the plan of 
 Providence, and it is through its influence that peoples are 
 great or weak, that one nation rules and another languishes.^ 
 
 ^ Or puoi figliol, veder la corta buffa 
 
 De' ben che son commessi alia Fortuna, 
 
 Perche I'umana gente si rabbuffa 
 Che tutto I'oro ch' e sotto la luna 
 
 O che gia fu, di queste anime stanche 
 
 Non poterebbe fame posar una. 
 
 " Inf.," canto vii. 
 ^ Providentia est ilia ipsa divina ratio, in summo omnium principe constituta, 
 quae cuncta disponit ; fatum vero inhserens rebus mobilibus dispositio, per quam 
 Providentia suis quaque nectit ordinibus. Providentia namque cuncta pariter, 
 quamvis diversa, quamvis infinita, complectitur ; fatum vero singula digerit in 
 motum locis, formis, ac temporibus distributa ; ut hsec temporalis ordinis expli- 
 catio, in divinje mentis adunata prospectu Providentia sit ; eadem vero adunatio 
 digesta atque explicata temporibus fatum vocatur. Quae, licet diversa sint, 
 alterum tamen pendet ex altero. Ordo namque fatalis ex Providentiae simpli- 
 citate procedit. Sicut enim artifex faciendae rei formam mente percipiens, movet 
 operis effectum et quod simpliciter praesentarieque prospexerat, per temporales 
 ordines ducit ; ita Deus Providentia quidem singulariter, stabiliterque facienda 
 disponit ; fato vero haec ipsa quas disposuit multipliciter ac temporaliter 
 administrat. — Boethius, " De Consolatione Philosophiae," lib. iv., prosa vi. 
 
HELL. 85 
 
 THE FIFTH CIRCLE. 
 
 CANTOS VII.-IX. 
 
 In the fifth circle the spirits of the wrathful, sullen, and 
 slothful are punished. A spring which issues from the 
 mountain side here gives birth to a stream which flows down 
 into the valley underneath, and forms there the Stygian 
 marsh. In this swamp the souls are steeped. They are all 
 naked except in so far as they are covered with mud. They 
 strike each other with their hands and heads and breasts, and 
 tear each other with their teeth. All these are the victims of 
 anger. Some are hidden under the water, and it is only the 
 bubbles at the surface that tell of their presence underneath. 
 These are the sullen, who were always brooding over dark 
 thoughts in the life above. As the poets walked along the 
 pool, they saw a great number of these souls gulping down the 
 filth of the mire. At length they reach the foot of a tower 
 on the summit of which they had already seen two cressets 
 signalling across the marsh. From a corresponding tower in 
 an island in the centre of the Styx the signal was returned. 
 In an instant a little bark shot across the waves, under the guid- 
 ance of Phlegyas, to ferry the travellers across. Phlegyas is 
 furious ; for he had hoped it was some guilty soul he had to 
 transfer ; but he is obliged to smother his fury and return 
 with Virgil and Dante in his skiff. As they were passing 
 over the stagnant pool one of the souls made a rush at the 
 boat intending to drag Dante into the mire ; but he is repelled 
 by Virgil, who tells him to be off " with the other dogs ". This 
 was the shade of Filippo Argenti,^ a well-known citizen of 
 
 ^Filippo Argenti was a. wealthy Florentine, remarkable for his selfishness 
 and violent temper. He was so purse-proud that he had his horses shod with 
 silver : hence the name Filippo Argenti. The family of the Cavicciuli-Adimari, 
 to which Philip belonged, were strong Guelphs, and offered a resolute resistance 
 to the proposals made from time to time to cancel the decree of exile against 
 Dante. This accounts for the poet's hatred and the harshness of the sentence 
 he inflicts on the unfortunate Filippo. 
 
86 HELL. 
 
 Florence, who was noted for his wealth and for his passionate 
 disposition. Dante evidently hated him ; for he treats him 
 with unusual harshness. " Remain there, accursed spirit," 
 he says, " for I know thee, all befouled as thou art." Virgil 
 drives him off and informs Dante that this squalid wretch, 
 who was so proud in the world above, had not to his credit a 
 single deed of goodness or charity that could now refresh his 
 memory. 
 
 Bonta non e che sua memoria fregi. 
 
 Dante expresses his desire to see him well soused in the 
 broth before they leave the boat. His wish is readily grati- 
 fied : for at once the miry folk make a rush all in the same 
 direction, shouting " At Philip Argenti ". The enraged 
 Florentine expresses his anger and hatred by tearing himself 
 with his teeth. 
 
 But now they were drawing near their landing-place. 
 The sound of lamentation was heard in the distance. They 
 were approaching the City of Dis, with its sin-laden denizens 
 and mighty garrison. It stood in the middle of the lake and 
 was surrounded by walls that looked like iron. At the 
 entrance to the fortifications the travellers are deposited by 
 Phlegyas. Over the gates there are more than a thousand 
 fallen angels, who growl, " Who is that who without death 
 goes through the kingdom of the dead ? " They invite Virgil 
 to enter alone and leave Dante to return if he can. This was 
 not a very pleasant proposal for Dante, who was quite certain 
 he could never get back if Virgil left him. He implores his 
 guide not to abandon him in such awful peril. Virgil re- 
 assures him, tells him to remain a while where he stood 
 whilst he (Virgil) went to parley with the demons and ask for 
 admittance. These, however, would not listen to his argu- 
 ments. They rushed in and shut the gates in his very face. 
 He returned to Dante crestfallen and downcast. In a 
 moment, however, he recovers his confidence. " I will over- 
 come the trial," he says to Dante : " this insolence of theirs is 
 
HELL. 87 
 
 not new. Even now there is descending the steep on this 
 side, passing without escort through the circles, one of such 
 authority that to him the gates shall be opened." 
 
 Whilst awaiting the arrival of this " messenger " from 
 heaven, Dante inquires of Virgil whether any soul confined 
 in Limbo had ever before made this journey downwards and 
 overcome the opposition of these demons. Virgil replied 
 that it seldom happened ; but that he himself had once been 
 down before. It occurred soon after his death. He had been 
 sent by Erichtho, the cruel Thessalian sorceress, to bring forth 
 a spirit from the circle that was already prepared for Judas. 
 His description of this journey is interrupted by the sudden 
 appearance on the summit of the tower of the three infernal 
 furies — Magsera, Alecto and Tysiphon. They were stained 
 with blood, had the limbs and faces of women, and were 
 begirt with greenest hydras. They had serpents (cerastes) for 
 hair, and with these their foreheads were entwined. Virgil, 
 who well knew the appearance of these handmaidens of 
 Proserpine, said to Dante, " Behold the ferocious Erinnyes ". 
 Each one was rending her breast with her nails. They smote 
 themselves with their palms, and shouted, so that Dante clung 
 to Virgil in terror. " Let Medusa come," they then ex- 
 claimed, looking down at the terrified poet, " and we shall 
 turn him into stone." 
 
 Venga Medusa ; si '1 farem di smalto. 
 Virgil warns his companion to turn round and keep his eyes 
 closed ; that if the Gorgon once showed herself there would 
 be no more returning up, and in order to make security 
 doubly sure, he places his own hands over Dante's eyes. 
 
 At this point of his narration or description the poet 
 exclaims, "O you who have sound intellects, admire the 
 teaching which is hidden under the veil of these strange 
 verses ! " ^ What is this doctrine ? What is the inner mean- 
 
 ■■ O voi, che avete gl' intelletti sani, 
 Miiate la dottrina che s' asconde 
 Sotto il velame degli versi strani. 
 
88 HELL. 
 
 ing that is here hidden in the text? The whole scene is 
 plainly allegorical. Just inside the gates of Dis is the circle 
 in which heresy and infidelity are punished. Dante wishes to 
 enter in order to contemplate the punishment, and thereby 
 arrive at true contrition for his own departures from ortho- 
 doxy. Virgil's colloquy with the demons represents the 
 philosophical arguments that can be advanced in favour of 
 religion. He is repulsed and the gates are slammed in his 
 face. The unbeliever has always arguments on his side, and 
 mockery to boot. To the conversion of the unbeliever one of 
 the greatest obstacles is a corrupt and guilty conscience — 
 represented by the Furies. Evil conscience calls upon doubt 
 to come to its assistance — Venga Medusa — doubt, which, like 
 the Gorgon, makes man insensible as stone. In order to save 
 men from doubt, the imperial authority comes to man's 
 assistance, with laws against heresy and bad books. This is 
 represented by Virgil covering Dante's eyes with his hands. 
 The imperial authority is not, however, sufficient of itself to 
 lead men to contrition for sins against Faith. This is 
 reserved for the Church, whose " messenger " now comes upon 
 the scene. 
 
 The description of this heavenly messenger ^ is one of the 
 finest in the " Inferno ". The crash of his advance is heard 
 over the waters. The shores tremble. He comes like a 
 tempest sweeping over the forest, rending branches and 
 tearing through the thickets. A cloud of dust is raised as he 
 passes : — 
 
 And as frogs at sight of hostile snake 
 
 Are scattered through the forest far and wide, 
 
 Till huddling, all the shore their refuge make. 
 More than a thousand ruined souls I spied 
 
 Thus fleeing before the face of one 
 Who with dry feet had crossed the Stygian tide.^ 
 
 ' A good deal of discussion has arisen as to the nature of this messenger. 
 Although it is not distinctly so stated, it appears to us that it must be an 
 " angel " from heaven. 
 
 2 Plumptre's Translation. 
 
HELL. 89 
 
 In words of withering scorn he reprimands the cowering 
 demons — calls them "outcasts from heaven," "race despised," 
 warns them that it is useless to indulge their insolence, to 
 kick against the Supreme Will, to butt against the fates. He 
 then returned without uttering a word to Dante and Virgil, 
 -who now advanced with confidence, and entered the gates of 
 the fortified city. 
 
 THE SIXTH CIRCLE. 
 CANTOS IX. -XI. 
 
 The sixth circle contains the Heresiarchs, with their 
 followers of every sect. They are confined in sepulchres 
 which are burning hot. Their lamentations are loud and 
 piteous ; the lids of the tombs are lifted up, and shall so 
 remain until the day of judgment, when they shall be closed 
 for all eternity. The variety of flaming tombs which are 
 visible all around remind Dante of those he had seen in the 
 cemeteries of Aries, in the south of France, and at Pola, near 
 the Gulf of Quarnaro, on the Adriatic Sea. 
 
 Amongst the personages mentioned by the poet in this 
 circle are Farinata degli Uberti, Cavalcanti the elder, the 
 Emperor Frederick II., Cardinal Ottaviano degli Ubaldini, 
 and Pope Anastasius II. With the exception of the last- 
 mentioned, they are all in the part set aside for Epicurus and 
 his followers, who made the soul die with the body. 
 
 Farinata, as he hears his native tongue spoken by Dante, 
 lifts himself up and gets into a sitting posture in his tomb. 
 He seems to hold even hell itself in contempt. Amongst 
 other questions, he asks Dante why the people of Florence 
 are so relentless in their decrees against all the Uberti family. 
 Dante replies that it is on account of the famous rout at 
 Monte-Aperti,^ and the carnage that dyed the Arbia crimson. 
 
 1 See account of this episode in " The Life of Dante," p. 22. 
 
90 HELL. 
 
 Farinata remarks that on that very occasion, when the chiefs 
 were assembled at Empoli after the battle and all the others 
 were in favour of razing Florence to the ground, he alone 
 opposed the project, and saved his native city from extinc- 
 tion. 
 
 Whilst Dante was engaged in conversation with Farinata, 
 another soul arose, and, looking closely at Dante said, weeping 
 all the while, " If by loftiness of genius thou art going through 
 this dark prison, where is my son ? And why is he not with 
 thee ? " The voice was easily recognised of Guido Cavalcanti, 
 the father of Dante's friend and comrade. Dante replies that 
 he is making this journey with Virgil as his guide. As Guido 
 was probably not an admirer of Virgil, and was more inter- 
 ested in philosophy than in poetry — more inclined to 
 scepticism than to faith — it could not be expected that he 
 should join his friend in an expedition in which Virgil was 
 the guide, and of which religion was the object. 
 
 As Dante speaks of Guido in the past tense, Cavalcanti 
 concludes that his son is dead, and falls back in despair into 
 his tomb. All Dante can do, under the circumstances, is to 
 leave the message with Farinata that Guido is still alive. 
 Before his departure he inquires about the other souls that 
 are imprisoned here. Farinata mentions the Emperor 
 Frederick II. and Cardinal Ubaldini. The rest are not 
 worth mentioning. Villani tell us that Frederick II., great 
 emperor, scholar and soldier though he was, "gave himself 
 up to all sensual delights and led an Epicurean life ; this was 
 the principal reason why he was such an enemy to the clergy 
 and Holy Church".^ Ubaldini was a worldly cardinal, who 
 devoted himself entirely to politics, opposed the Pope on 
 many occasions, and seemed to have lost all religious faith. 
 
 As the end of the sixth circle is reached, Dante's attention 
 is attracted to a tomb which bore the inscription : " Pope 
 
 ' " Cronaca," vi., chap. i. 
 
HELL. 91 
 
 Anastasius I hold, he whom Photinus drew from the right 
 way". This is an allusion to Pope Anastasius II., who ruled 
 the Church from 496 to 498. As Cardinal Bellarmine ob- 
 serves,^ Dante must be excused, to some extent at least, for 
 having fallen into an error so gross, seeing that this absurd 
 calumny against Pope Anastasius had been recorded by Mar- 
 tinus Polonus, by Gratian, and other authors, from whom the 
 poet borrowed it. They said that Anastasius endeavoured to> 
 restore to the See of Constantinople the Eutychian heretic, 
 Acacius, who had been deposed by his predecessors, and that 
 against the will and advice of other bishops he admitted into 
 the communion of the Church Photinus of Thessalonica, a 
 friend of Acacius,^ and a confirmed heretic. That this is an 
 absurd invention has been clearly proved by Evagrius, Libera- 
 tus and Bellarmine. Acacius was dead before Anastasius 
 became Pope. What lent colour to the invention was the fact 
 that, contemporary with Pope Anastasius, there lived an 
 emperor of the same name, who was imbued with Eutychian 
 doctrines, and supported Acacius and his followers. Dante 
 was, therefore, led astray by inaccurate and untrustworthy 
 writers. 
 
 So great was his hatred of heresy that he describes the 
 stench at this point of his journey as something awful. 
 
 Virgil now proceeds to depict in outline the remaining 
 three circles. In them are punished the greatest sins of all, 
 viz., sins of violence and sins of fraud. But as fraud is the 
 peculiar and characteristic sin of man, being the outcome of 
 a depraved intellect, it is reserved for the two lowest circles in 
 the very bottom of the pit. 
 
 ^ " De Summo Pontifice," cap. xiv, 
 
 ' " Quae omnia,'' writes Bellaimine, "falsa fabulosaque sint nam ceitissimis. 
 testibus constat," 
 
92 HELL. 
 
 THE SEVENTH CIRCLE. 
 CANTOS XII.-XVII. 
 
 In the seventh circle the violent, who constitute the first 
 order of malignant sinners, are punished. They are classified 
 in three categories ; those vs^ho do violence to others ; those 
 who do violence to themselves ; and those who do violence 
 to God. The entire circle is, therefore, divided into three 
 rounds, one for each category of sinners. The passage on 
 the summit of the hill through which the circle is entered 
 is appropriately guarded by the Minotaur — the infamy of 
 Crete — who bit himself with rage as he saw the travellers 
 approach. Virgil reminds him of Theseus, and tells him that 
 Dante has directions from somebody more skilled than 
 Ariadne. At this threat, the monster plunges like a bull that 
 has received the fatal blow ; and before he recovers from the 
 <;onfusion of his rage the wayfarers hasten through the pass. 
 
 The scene that now opens before them is well calculated 
 to inspire terror. The descent is rugged and precipitous. The 
 huge cliff that was here the first time Virgil made his journey 
 downwards has been shattered. It fell into the valley when 
 the earth trembled at the Crucifixion of Our Lord. Some of 
 its boulders were precipitated as far as the Phlegethon, which 
 flows through the valley underneath. It reminded Dante of 
 the country between Trent and Verona after the great Alpine 
 landslip, when the rocks struck the banks of the Adige. 
 
 The First Round. 
 
 The Phlegethon is a river of boiling blood, in which 
 murderers are plunged at depths varying in proportion to 
 their crimes. Cupidity ^ was, as a rule, the cause of their 
 
 1 O cieca cupidigia, e ria e foUe, 
 Che SI ci sproni nella vita corta, 
 E neir eterna poi si raal c' immoUe. 
 
 Canto xii. 
 
HELL. 93 
 
 violence. Hence the outburst of the poet against this blind 
 and guilty vice which has led to the awful results he witnesses 
 here. 
 
 Along the banks of the river, centaurs, armed with 
 arrows, are running in files. They are there in thousands and 
 thousands, and their duty is to pierce with their shafts any 
 souls that attempt to raise themselves above the point allotted. 
 The first troop of these archers stopped short as they saw 
 the strangers advance. Three of them leave the ranks and 
 approach. At a distance one of them challenges the visitors, 
 and threatens to shoot. This was Nessus. Virgil replies 
 that he will give explanations to Chiron, who is in charge. 
 The third member of the trio was Pholus. These monsters 
 typify the unnatural violence of the sinners. Nessus, who 
 was killed by Hercules for an attempt on the beautiful 
 Dejanira, represents violence against the neighbour. Chiron, 
 who nearly killed himself by allowing one of the arrows of 
 Hercules to fall upon his foot, represents violence against 
 oneself. Pholus, who is said to have blasphemed Olympus, 
 personates violence against God. The three also suggest the 
 causes which impel men to violence, viz., lust, ambition and 
 vengeance. 
 
 The chief of the centaurs, having been satisfied by Virgil 
 that resistance was useless, yields to the inevitable, and 
 despatches Nessus to conduct the strangers, to protect them 
 on their way, to show them the ford, and carry Dante across 
 the river. 
 
 As they proceeded along the banks of the Phlegethon, 
 Nessus pointed out several of the personages that were 
 punished in the flood. Amongst them were Alexander,^ 
 
 ^ Commentators dispute as to whether Alexander the Great is meant here, 
 or Alexander of Pherae, or Alexander Janneo, son of Aristobulus of Jerusalem. 
 We think the intention of the author was to leave the matter doubtful and give 
 the commentators an opportunity of displaying their skill. He frequently has 
 recourse to this device, which reappears in this same canto, in the references 
 to Dionysius, Pyrrhus and Sextus. 
 
54 HELL. 
 
 Dionysius, who caused such woe to Sicily, Ezzelino da 
 Romano,' the tyrant of the Trevisan Marches, and Obizzo 
 •d'Este, who was slain by his son. There also was Guy de 
 Montfort, who murdered Prince Henry of Cornwall as he 
 was receiving the Host at Mass in the cathedral of Viterbo 
 in 1271.^ 
 
 The river, as they advanced, became gradually more 
 shallow until at last they arrived at a point where only the 
 feet of the sinners were immersed. Here was the ford. 
 Nessus carried Dante across on his croup, Virgil following. 
 The centaur tells them that from this point the river deepens 
 on either side till it reaches its greatest depth at the point 
 where Attila, Pyrrhus, Sextus, and the robber barons, Rinieri 
 da Corneto and Rinieri de Pazzi,^ are submerged. Having 
 favoured the travellers with this information, Nessus recrosses 
 the ford and returns to his troop. 
 
 The Second Round. 
 
 On the other side of the river a great forest stretches away 
 in a wide circle. But there is no verdure on its trees, the 
 foliage being of a dusky hue, the branches gnarled and inter- 
 twined, and covered with poisoned thorns. In this wild 
 thicket the loathsome harpies,* who drove the Trojans from 
 the Strophades, make their nests. They have broad wings, 
 human necks and faces, taloned feet, and large, feathered 
 bellies. Lamentations are heard on every side, but the people 
 
 ^ There is scarcely another example in European history of the endurance 
 of mankind under so long and sanguinary a career of government. Perceval's 
 " History of Italy," vol. i., p. 192. 
 
 * Colui fesse in grembo o Die 
 Lo cuor che in sul Tamigi ancor si cola. 
 
 3 The Rinieris were a pair of marauders who operated in the Maremma and 
 the Val d'Arno. They remind us of Scott's border chiefs and of Goethe's Gotz 
 von Berlichingen. 
 
 * The harpies represent grief, slavery and poverty, the three afflictions that 
 urge men to suicide. 
 
HELL. 95 
 
 who make them cannot be seen. Virgil tells Dante to pluck 
 a branch that the mystery may be revealed. He does so, and 
 immediately the trunk cried out : " Why dost thou rend me ? 
 Why dost thou mangle me ? Hast thou no pity ? We once 
 were men who now are trees. Well might thy hand have 
 been more merciful." 
 
 As when one burns a brand of greenest wood 
 At one end, and the other spits and groans 
 
 And hisses, as the air and damp exude, 
 
 So from that broken stem came mingled|tones 
 
 Of words and blood. And so I let the bough 
 Fall, and stood there, fear shaking all my bones. 
 
 The voice that came from out this trunk was that of 
 Pietro delle Vigne, the chancellor of Frederick II., an accom- 
 plished scholar and diplomatist, who succeeded in gaining the 
 emperor's confidence, and wielded such an influence over his 
 master that he could make him do as he pleased. But envy, 
 "the lavender of courts,'' ultimately undermined his power. 
 He lost favour with Frederick, was dismissed, imprisoned, 
 according to some had his eyes torn out ; in any case, became 
 blind, and finally, so tired was he with the vexations of the 
 world, knocked his head against his prison walls, becoming 
 thus the author of his own death. 
 
 At Virgil's request Pietro explains to Dante how the 
 suicides find themselves thus punished in the forest The 
 soul sent down here by Minos falls into the wood, and wher- 
 ever chance hurls it there it sprouts as a grain of spelt. It 
 grows up into a sapling and then into a forest tree. The 
 harpies feeding on its leaves cause it constant pain. It is 
 imprisoned here for ever, powerless to commit suicide again. 
 Even at the last day, when mankind shall once more be 
 clothed in its flesh, the suicides shall not be allowed to 
 re-enter their bodies,^ but shall be compelled to drag them to 
 
 ^ Dante puts this opinion into the mouth of Pietro delle Vigne, but does not 
 express approval of it. 
 
96 HELL. 
 
 the forest, where they shall be hung on the tree in which the 
 shade is imprisoned. 
 
 As the two were still waiting for Pietro to continue his 
 discourse, they were surprised by a noise like the chase of a 
 boar coming in their direction. The branches crashed as the 
 sound came nearer : then suddenly the travellers see two souls 
 flying precipitately and calling on death itself to deliver them. 
 They were pursued by a pack of black bitches, ravening and 
 swift, like greyhounds that have just been slipped. One of 
 the souls having lost breath, hides himself under a bush. He 
 is now overtaken by the dogs, who rend him piecemeal. 
 
 These two victims of the chase were Lano of Sienna and 
 Jacomo di Sant' Andrea, two young spendthrifts, who squan- 
 dered their property ; for next to taking one's own life comes 
 the guilt of wasting one's substance and destroying one's 
 own goods. The hapless shade that occupied the bush under 
 which Jacomo had taken refuge was now giving expression to 
 its woe through a thousand bleeding fractures caused by the 
 scrimmage of the dogs. It was that of Rucco de Mozzi, who 
 had committed suicide at Florence. In a few words he tells 
 his tale to the visitors. They express their pity and pass 
 onward to the third round. 
 
 The Third Round. 
 
 The Third Round is a vast plain of burning sand on 
 which are punished the violent against God, and the violent 
 against nature and art, which both proceed from God. Here 
 they saw many troops of naked spirits, all weeping most 
 piteously. Some were lying supine on the ground, some 
 sitting all crouched up, and others running without any 
 pause. Over the whole plain flakes of fire were falling down 
 like snow upon the Alps when the wind is calm. They were 
 like the hot flames that consumed the hosts of Alexander 
 in India; and when the sand, which was dry as tinder, got 
 
HELL. 97 
 
 ignited with them, the torment of the souls was doubled. 
 Unceasing was the rapid dance of their hands, shaking off the 
 fresh and burning feathers. 
 
 Although the blasphemers or violent against God are very 
 numerous in this part of the third round, Dante mentions 
 only one of them by name, taking him as a representative of 
 all. This was Capaneus, one of the " Seven against Thebes," 
 who defied Jupiter, and was hurled down by a thunderbolt. 
 By a delicate instinct, he mentions only a pagan in connec- 
 tion with a crime so wicked. Capaneus, even here, is defiant 
 as ever; and the inward rage of this defiance is worse to 
 him than the burning sand and flames. 
 
 As it was impossible for Dante to set foot on this burning 
 ground, the travellers had kept along the verge of the forest 
 from the point where Nessus had left them ; but now the 
 Phlegethon streams out into the plain and enables them to 
 move along its banks, as it has the effect of neutralising the 
 fire along its course. 
 
 Virgil here enters into a long account of the origin of the 
 Phlegethon, and of all the other rivers and marshes of hell. 
 
 In the island of Crete, away in the Mediterranean Sea, 
 and in the interior of Mount Ida, stands the statue of an old 
 man with its back turned towards Babylon, and its face 
 towards Rome. It is a facsimile^ of the statue of King 
 Nebuchodonosor's dream. Its head is of gold, its arms and 
 breast of silver, the remainder of the body is of bronze ; but 
 the limbs are of iron, save the right foot, on which the statue 
 chiefly rests, and this is of potter's clay. Each part, except 
 the gold, is rent with a fissure through which tears are per- 
 petually trickling. These, when collected, perforate the 
 
 ' This statue is, according to the commentators, an allegorical figure of Time 
 and of the succession of empires. The tears trickling through the fissures repre- 
 sent the sins committed by all men during the three decadent ages that suc- 
 ceeded the Golden Age, — See Barrelli, " L'Allegoria della Divina Commedia,'' 
 
 pp. 90-92. 
 
 7 
 
98 HELL. 
 
 cavern, and, winding their course from rock to rock, fall into 
 this valley, where they form Acheron, Styx and Phlegethon. 
 These three rivers terminate in the lake of Cocytus, at the 
 bottom of the pit, and this lake still remains to be seen. 
 They have now left the forest far behind, and have made a 
 long journey by the margin of the river. The Phlegethon 
 rushes in such a sweeping flood that it threatens to inundate 
 the whole plain, and has to be shut off by embankments like 
 those which keep out the sea between Wissant and Bruges, 
 in Flanders, or those which protect Padua and its people from 
 the floods of the Brenta. They soon encounter a troop of 
 souls who, as they hurried along, gazed at them sharply 
 through the dusk and vapour, arching their brows like people 
 who peer at nightfall. One of them, as he passes, plucks 
 Dante by the skirt ; it was his old friend and master, Brunetto 
 Latini. 
 
 The encounter between the master and pupil is very touch- 
 ing. It appears that Brunetto, notwithstanding his learning 
 and philosophy, had fallen into certain crimes of immorality 
 during his lifetime, and Dante, on that account, feels obliged 
 to consign him to this plain where sins against nature are 
 punished. The whole interview reveals much more than 
 appears on the surface.^ Every word and attitude of 
 Brunetto and of Dante has some special significance. After 
 mutual explanations, Brunetto foretells the glorious destiny 
 of his pupil, and warns him of the wrongs he is to suffer at 
 the hands of his countrymen. Dante expresses his pity for 
 Brunetto in his present plight, and tells him that the image is 
 ever in his heart of that kind and fatherly preceptor who 
 taught him. 
 
 Come r uom s'eterna. 
 
 Why, then, it may be asked, does he condemn such an 
 excellent master to hell, and describe him here as disfigured 
 
 ' See Vernon's " Readings on the Inferno,'' vol. i., pp. 498-507. 
 
HELL. 99 
 
 and scorched almost beyond recognition ? Some say it was 
 because Brunetto was a Guelph ; others because Dante 
 wished to prove his absolute impartiality. It seems certain 
 that Dante had an intense horror of the loathsome crime to 
 which, it would appear, Brunetto was addicted, in common 
 with many of the most cultivated men of the time.^ To 
 express that horror, particularly towards those who, on account 
 of their learning and culture, are likely to have an influence 
 on others, he condemns Brunetto to hell. But, as in the case 
 of Francesca da Rimini, having once performed that duty, he 
 surrounds the sentence with every element of pity that could 
 indicate his personal love and gratitude. 
 
 As they moved along together, Dante inquires of Brunetto 
 who his most noteworthy companions are. Brunetto replies 
 that all in the nearest troop are clerics, or men of letters, who 
 had great fame in the world, but were defiled by the same sin. 
 There were Priscian, the grammarian, and Francesco of 
 Accorso, the jurist, and, if he wishes to see more of that 
 scurf, there was De Mozzi, whom Pope Boniface had made 
 Bishop of Florence. Farther on, when Brunetto had left 
 them, they see several rich Florentines who had been guilty 
 of these unnatural crimes. There were Guido Guerra, the 
 grandson of the good Gualdrada, and Guglielmo Borsiere, 
 who had recently died. There also were two of those whom 
 Dante had already inquired about from Ciacco, viz., Tegghiaio 
 Aldobrandi and Jacopo Rusticucci. 
 
 When the travellers had reached the point at which the 
 Phlegethon descends in a roaring cataract into the chasm 
 underneath, Dante loosed from his body a cord with which he 
 was girt, and with which he had one time hoped to capture 
 the leopard. This he handed to Virgil, who threw it into the 
 
 'Signer Pesqualigo, in a posthumous work on the "Vita Nuova" recently 
 published at Venice, thinks the sin against nature committed by Brunetto was the 
 writing of his principal work, " Li Tresors," in French and not in Italian. 
 
100 HELL. 
 
 abyss.i Dante well knew that this act of his guide had some 
 important significance. The result justified his anticipations ; 
 for without delay he saw swimming up through the dark air 
 the figure of the monster Geryon, who had thus been sum- 
 moned up by Virgil that he might carry his companion and 
 himself down to the eighth circle. As the next two circles 
 are taken up with the punishment of fraud in all its manifesta- 
 tions and varieties, the picture of Geryon, as drawn by Dante, 
 is eminently typical of deceit. The face of the monster was 
 bland and righteous. His skin was sleek. His back and breast 
 were painted in coils of variegated colour. Turks or Tartars 
 never made warp or woof more brilliant, nor did Arache spin 
 more intricate webs. His paws were hairy to the armpits. The 
 whole of the rear part of the body was that of a serpent, with 
 a venomous tail forked like a scorpion's. He leaned with the 
 head and breast on the bank, but kept his tail concealed in 
 the water, like a boat that is stranded, or — 
 
 Like the beaver amongst the gluttonous Germans. 
 
 Whilst Virgil is explaining to Geryon the purpose for which 
 he is required, Dante, at Virgil's suggestion, goes to inspect 
 a company of souls that were sitting on the sand close 
 to the spot at which the wayfarers had arrived. This was 
 the third class of the violent, viz., the violent against art, 
 or the usurers, who are the greatest enemies of art and of 
 artists. They pervert the course of art in its relation to 
 nature, and despise nature itself, refusing to follow the Divine 
 command, and earn their bread in the sweat of their brow. 
 They were all shedding copious tears, and were protecting 
 themselves with their hands from the hot vapour and the 
 burning soil ; and like dogs in summer, when they are bitten 
 
 ' This was the cord of the Third Order of St. Francis, of which Dante was a 
 member. Now that he has passed through all the circles where sensuality is 
 punished, he needs it no longer, and allows Virgil to make use of it as a signal to 
 Geryon, who could neither hear nor see the travellers, from the position they 
 occupied. It was an appropriate signal to the panders below. 
 
HELL. 101 
 
 by fleas or gadflies, they seek relief now with the muzzle, 
 now with their paws. They all had, hanging from their necks, 
 pouches on which their armorial bearings were stamped. 
 This clue enabled the poet to recognise several famous Italian 
 usurers. One of them, a representative of the Scrovigni 
 of Padua, tells him to be off from this ditch, that he soon 
 expects the famous usurers, Buiamonte of Florence and 
 Vitaliano of Padua. "And then," observes Dante, "he 
 twisted his mouth, and stuck out his tongue, like an ox that 
 licks his nose." Dante, however, cannot delay with these 
 souls. He hastens back to Virgil, who has already mounted 
 on the croup of Geryon, and takes up his position in front of 
 him. The sight of the monster and of the abyss makes Dante 
 quake, like one who is in fever, and has a shivering fit that 
 makes his fingers livid to the nails. He is strengthened, how- 
 ever, by the encouragement of Virgil, who clasps him in his 
 arms, and orders Geryon to move. The monster, like a vessel 
 leaving its berth, advances slowly into the air, and then 
 descends through the atmosphere, circling as he went, so as 
 to enable the travellers to hear the sounds of the various 
 fosses underneath. The terror which Dante experienced, as 
 he was carried down through the void of the abyss, was 
 like that which Phaeton must have felt when he abandoned 
 the reins of his chariot, or Icarus, when his waxen pinions 
 were melted by the sun. Nevertheless, they are safely 
 deposited at the base of the cliff, and at once begin the 
 exploration of the eighth circle. 
 
 THE EIGHTH CIRCLE. 
 
 Maleboge. 
 
 CANTOS XVIII.-XXXI. 
 
 There are two kinds of fraud, viz., fraud, which is mere 
 deceit, and fraud which, besides deception, involves a breach 
 
102 HELL. 
 
 of trust. The former is punished in the eighth circle, the 
 latter in the ninth, or lowest. As, however, fraud, in the 
 simple acceptation of the word, assumes many forms, the poet 
 distributes through this eighth circle ten fosses or chasms, in 
 each of which special kinds of fraud are punished. These 
 fosses are called Malebolge, or evil pits.^ They are all con- 
 centric, surrounding one another, like so many belts, from the 
 foot of the cliff to the centre, where the yawning abyss 
 leads down to the ninth and last circle. They communicate 
 with one another by bridges or gangways, which enable the 
 travellers to pass. 
 
 The First Foss. 
 
 In the first foss are punished the panders and seducers. 
 It is full of new torments and new tormentors. At the 
 bottom of the valley the sinners were naked. Some were 
 coming towards the travellers and others going in the same 
 direction with them. They were numerous as the crowds 
 that passed over the bridge of Sant' Angelo to St. Peter's 
 during the great jubilee of 1300. Horned demons with huge 
 scourges were flogging them from behind, and they ran in- 
 cessantly so as to escape the blows. Amongst the panders 
 Dante recognises Venedico Caccianemico of Bologna, who 
 sold his own sister, the beautiful Ghisola, to the Marchese 
 d'Este. Venedico does his best to conceal his identity, but 
 to no purpose. He then tells Dante that the place is full of 
 people from Bologna ; and he is proceeding to give additional 
 information, when a demon comes and smites him with his 
 thong, ordering him to be off, that there is no booth for his 
 vile traffic here. 
 
 Amongst the seducers, Virgil singles out Jason, and shows 
 him to Dante. He had beguiled Hypsipile, in the island of 
 Lemnos, and left her forlorn, and, in spite of his solemn vow 
 
 1 The literal meaning of bolgia is a pouch or pocket. 
 
HELL. 103 
 
 in the temple of Hecate, he had abandoned Medea, and given 
 himself up to a dissolute life. Virgil calls attention to the 
 royal aspect he still retains. Like Capaneus of Thebes he 
 seems to defy the powers of Hell itself. 
 
 The Second Foss. 
 
 In the second foss flatterers are punished. Dante, who 
 loved truth and sincerity, had an intense hatred of flattery 
 and flatterers. Hence the wretches who are punished here 
 are made to endure the vilest treatment. They are steeped 
 in a mire like that which flows from human privies. That is 
 the oil of flattery that here makes their countenance look 
 smooth. Amongst them, all besmirched with ordure, was 
 Allessio Interminelli of Lucca, who took such delight in 
 flattery that he could not even address the lowest menial 
 without having recourse to this deceptive art. There, too, 
 was that " filthy and dishevelled baggage," Thais of Athens, 
 some of whose flatteries are recorded by Terence.^ He does 
 not wish to dwell further on the inhabitants of this foul sink, 
 and mentions no others. 
 
 The Third Foss. 
 
 In the third foss are punished the sinners that were guilty 
 of Simony. For them Dante has no compassion. As he 
 enters their dwelling-place he exclaims : " Oh, Simon Magus ! 
 Oh ye, his wretched followers, who, in your rapacity, do 
 prostitute for gold and silver the things of God which ought 
 to be the brides of righteousness, now must the trumpet sound 
 for you, since ye are in the third pit." ^ 
 
 ' " Eunuchus," iii., sc. i. ; also Cicero, " De Amicit.," xxvi. g8. 
 ^ O Simon mago ! O miseri seguaci ! 
 Che le cose di Dio, che di bontate 
 Deono esser spose, e voi rapaci 
 Per oro e per agento adulterate ; 
 Or convien che per voi suoni la tromba, 
 Perocche nella terza bolgia state,] 
 
104 HELL. 
 
 In the livid stone at the bottom of this foss there were 
 circular holes which reminded the poet of the standing places 
 for the priests in the Baptistery of Florence.^ Forth from the 
 mouth of each of these holes protruded the feet of a sinner 
 and his legs up to the calf, with the rest of the body within. 
 The soles of all the feet were on fire, and their joints quivered 
 so violently that they would have snapped withes and bands. 
 Dante is not long inside when he turns to Virgil and asks 
 him : — 
 
 " Who is he that writhes, quivering more than the others, 
 and whom a ruddier flame is sucking ? " 
 
 Virgil in reply offers to carry Dante down the slope, so 
 that he may interrogate the soul himself When they had 
 reached the spot, Dante stoops over the cleft, as the confessors 
 were wont to do over the graves of treacherous assassins (who 
 were buried alive with the head downwards) and inquires who 
 it is that is planted there like a stake. The soul replies : 
 " Art thou already there, Boniface ? By several years the 
 record lied to me. Art thou so quickly sated with that pos- 
 session for which thou didst not fear to seize by guile the 
 beautiful lady and then to do her outrage ? " This was Pope 
 Nicholas IIL, who reigned from 1277 to 1280. He takes 
 Dante to be Pope Boniface VIII. Boniface, however, was 
 not to die till 1303, and Dante informs the victim underneath 
 of his mistake. Then Nicholas, with tearful voice, gives an 
 account of his life and of the method of his torture. 
 
 " I was a son of the She Bear (he belonged to the Orsini 
 family), so eager to advance the cubs that up there I put 
 wealth, and here myself, into the purse." 
 
 Beneath him, in the same fissure of the rock, are the other 
 Popes that were guilty of Simony. He in his turn will soon 
 be driven down by Boniface and by Clement, whose time is 
 not far off. Dante has not a word of pity for this Pope, but 
 
 ^ The baptistery to which Dante alludes no longer exists, but similar ones 
 may still be seen at Pisa and Pistoia. 
 
HELL. 105 
 
 indulges in reproaches which are well calculated to increase 
 the victim's pain. " Pray tell me now," he says, " how much 
 treasure Our Lord desired of St. Peter before He entrusted 
 the keys to him ? Surely he required nothing save ' Follow 
 Me ' ? Nor did Peter or the others require of Mathias gold or 
 silver when he was chosen to the place which the guilty one 
 had lost. Therefore, stay thou ! for thou art rightly punished, 
 and guard well the ill-gotten money that against Charles made 
 thee to be bold. And were it not that reverence for the 
 Supreme Keys that thou heldest in the glad life forbiddeth 
 me, I would use words still more grave.'' 
 
 In extenuation of this outburst, it may be said that there 
 is such a thing as poetic license, and that Dante was not 
 writing a treatise on dogmatic theology, but a poem. On that 
 account, he did not feel bound to investigate for himself the 
 truth of the accusations so freely made by popular Italian 
 writers against some of the Popes. Nicholas III. was accused 
 of having taken bribes from the promoters of the Sicilian 
 Vespers to purchase his neutrality. Accusations are easily 
 made, but not quite so easily proved. Dante was all the more 
 willing to believe what had been said against a Pope whose 
 main policy in government was fundamentally opposed to his 
 own Utopia of a universal empire. That is why he singles out 
 Nicholas for such unmeasured vituperation. It will be noted, 
 however, that he distinguishes carefully between the office and 
 its holder, and professes unqualified reverence for the Supreme 
 Keys which Nicholas held in " the glad life above " ; and when 
 he adds : — 
 
 "Ah, Constantine ! to how much evil did that plentiful 
 dower give birth which the first wealthy father received from 
 thee ! " 
 
 he alluded to the supremacy in the political world which 
 the Pope then held, and not to the mere temporal sovereignty 
 which resulted from the supposed donation of Constantine. 
 
 When Virgil, in approval of his denunciation of the abuses 
 
106 HELL. 
 
 of spiritual authority, takes Dante to his bosom, and ascends 
 with him to the summit of the arch, he may be taken as 
 symbolising that secular monarchy which is ever jealous of 
 the Church's power, and that ideal form of it which was the 
 object of Dante's life-long dream. 
 
 The Fourth Foss. 
 
 From the bridge above the fourth foss Dante looks down 
 into the valley that lay beneath; it was well-bedewed with 
 tears of anguish. Along the vast plain people were moving 
 as slowly as a religious procession. Each one of them was 
 terribly distorted. The face was turned back towards the 
 loins. No palsy could deform them more. Copious tears 
 were streaming from their eyes along their backs. They 
 could not see anything in front of them, and were compelled 
 on that account to walk backwards. These were the diviners, 
 soothsayers, false prophets and prophetesses, witches and 
 sorcerers. They endeavoured, by wicked means, to see far 
 into the future in the life above. Now they cannot even look 
 before them. Their faces are twisted back. Amongst them 
 were Amphiaraus,^ who foresaw his own death, and was 
 betrayed by his wife, Eriphyle ; Tiresias,^ the blind prophet 
 of Thebes ; Aruns, the Etruscan augur ^ who hid him- 
 self in the marble quarries of Carrara ; Manto, from whom 
 Virgil's native city took its name ; Euripylus, who predicted 
 the fortunate hour for the departure of the Greeks from Aulis. 
 There, too, was the famous Scotch astrologer and alchemist of 
 the thirteenth century, Michael Scott, who belonged to the court 
 of Frederick II. And with him were Guido Bonatti of Forli, 
 who wrote a treatise on astrology, and Asdente, a cobbler of 
 Parma, who now would wish he had attended to his leather 
 and his twine ; but it is too late. Finally, a whole host may 
 
 ^ His story is found in the " Thebais " of Statius, viii., 84. 
 
 ^ Ovid " Metam.," iii., 320. ' " Pharsalia" of Lucan, i., 586. 
 
HELL. 107 
 
 be seen of wretched women who abandoned the needle, the 
 shuttle, and the distaff, to become fortune-tellers and work 
 incantations with herbs and wax. 
 
 The Fifth Foss. 
 
 From the arch of the bridge on which Virgil had deposited 
 him, the poet looks intently down into the fifth foss, in 
 which he sees, immersed in boiling pitch, the barrators, who^ 
 trafficked in the sale of public offices — the corrupt officials, the 
 unjust stewards. After the Simonists, who trafficked in the 
 things of heaven, there is no class of sinners for whom the 
 poet expresses such hatred and contempt as he does for these. 
 He literally revels in witnessing their torture. He gives his 
 imagination a rein of freedom which borders on frenzy. The 
 scenes which he describes would be absolutely comic were they 
 not so grimly tragic. The two cantos in which they are pre- 
 sented to us would be enough to justify the title of " Comedy " 
 which Dante gave to his poem. He compares the sight which 
 he beheld to the arsenal of the Venetians in winter,^ when the 
 sticky pitch for smearing their vessels is boiling. As they 
 cannot go to sea, they are occupied in preparations for the 
 spring. One builds a new bark ; another is caulking the sides 
 of an old one. One hammers at the prow, another at the 
 stern. One makes oars and another twists the cordage. One 
 patches the foresail, another the mainsail. Here in a divine 
 fire the pitch was boiling, which belined the banks, and was 
 swelling and sinking under the influence of that awful furnace. 
 As the souls arrive they are cast into the huge cauldron. Just 
 
 ^ The arsenal here represents the court, the pitch the barratry that goes on 
 chiefly in the winter. The man who is building a new ship is the one who i& 
 endeavouring to get some comfortable post. Those who are engaged in repairs- 
 are persons whose reputations have been damaged, and are endeavouring to patch 
 them up. He who is twisting ropes is preparing snares and frauds ; and those 
 who are making sails are preparing for some huge enterprise in swindling. — See- 
 Vernon's " Readings from the Inferno," vol. ii., p. 149. 
 
108 HELL. 
 
 as Dante looked down for the first time, he saw a terrible- 
 looking demon running to the brink with a sinner astride on 
 his shoulder ; and as soon as he had hurled him down into the 
 pitch, and delivered him up to the tender mercies of the Male- 
 branche (Evil claws), he turned back along the crag, running 
 faster than any mastiff that pursues a thief. The wretch 
 whom he had thus consigned to eternal torture was a judge 
 of Lucca, where, he said, every man was a barrator except 
 Bonturo,^ an ironical sally against one of the most famous of 
 corrupt judges in that unfortunate city. The Malebranche 
 now turn their attention to this new-comer. First they taunt 
 him with jibes and scoffs. " Here the Holy Face avails not." ^ 
 " Here one swims otherwise than in the Serchio."^ "There- 
 fore, if thou dost not want our grapples, keep beneath the 
 pitch." When he appeared above the surface, seeking some 
 relief, they struck him with a hundred prongs, and said : 
 " Thou must dance under cover here, so that thou mayst 
 swindle secretly". He compares them to cooks who make 
 their scullions plunge the meat with their hooks into the 
 middle of the cauldron so that it may not float. 
 
 Virgil tells Dante to crouch down behind a splinter whilst 
 he himself advances to parley with the demons. As soon as 
 they get a glimpse of him they rush at him from under the 
 bridge, like dogs let loose upon a poor mendicant, and turned 
 towards him all their forks. Virgil demanded that one of 
 them should come forward to hear what he had to say before 
 they grappled him. They all cried: "Let Malacoda go". 
 Malacoda (Evil tail) accordingly advanced, whilst the others 
 stayed at a distance. Virgil soon convinces the captain that 
 resistance to the passage downwards of the two strangers is 
 quite useless. Malacoda lets his hook drop, and calls out to 
 the others that this new-comer must not be struck. 
 
 ' See Berthier's " Commento " at Bonturo Dati. 
 '' An image of the Holy Face venerated at Lucca. 
 ' The Serchio is a river that flows near Lucca. 
 
HELL. 109 
 
 Virgil now calls Dante from his hiding-place, and when 
 the devils saw a man in flesh and blood advance towards 
 them, their fury can be imagined. Dante clings to his leader. 
 The demons, however, lowered their forks ; and although one 
 of them, Scarmiglione, offers to pay some delicate attention to 
 Dante from the rear, Malacoda orders him to keep still. To 
 deceive the travellers as to the way, and secure some oppor- 
 tunity of doing them injury, Malacoda gives them informa- 
 tion which is true in part and partly false. He tells them 
 that the next bridge was broken down at the time of the 
 earthquake (at Our Lord's death). This is true. But then 
 he says there is another bridge farther on which they can pass. 
 This is a lie. Finally he says : " I am sending some of my folk 
 to see if any one (in the pitch) is airing himself ; go you with 
 them : they will not harm you ". His object was, however, 
 that they should do harm if they got the chance. He selects 
 ten of them to go that way, and assigns them Barbariccia as 
 their corporal. The others are Alichino,^ Calcabrina, Cag- 
 nazzo, Libicocco, Draghinazzo, Ciriatto, Graffiacane, Far- 
 farello and Rubicante. Dante would much prefer to go 
 alone with Virgil ; and when he saw the demons show their 
 teeth, and threaten with their brows, he was all the more 
 anxious to dispense with their company. Virgil, as usual, 
 reassures him, and tells him that their grins and scowls are 
 intended for the wretches boiling in the pitch. The company 
 then salute Malacoda, and the signal for departure which 
 the captain gives, is entirely worthy of hell. 
 
 Dante is obliged to adopt the motto, " In the church with 
 the saints, and in the tavern with the gluttons," in order to fall 
 
 ^ Commentators have attributed different meanings to the names of these 
 demons. Some think that they are parodies on the names of some of the 
 magistrates in Florence in Dante's time, such as Manno Branca, Raffacani, 
 Jacopo Ricci, Pazzin dei Pazzi, etc. Calcabrina means trample-frost, meaning 
 one who trampled on the " Bianchi " ; Farfarello means a brawler, or a 
 person who, by his speech, endeavours to hoodwink everyone. Ciriatto is one 
 who is quick to rob, etc., etc. 
 
110 HELL. 
 
 in with these new companions. As soon as he feels that he is 
 safe with Virgil, he turns all his attention to the pit beneath. 
 The sinners in the boiling pitch sometimes come to the surface 
 for relief ; now arching their backs like dolphins in the sea, and 
 plunging down again with the rapidity of lightning ; now, like 
 frogs at the edge of a moat, putting their muzzle up out of the 
 water, they endeavour to refresh themselves for a moment at 
 the surface. But the demons keep a close watch upon them, 
 and endeavour to catch them with their grappling-hooks. 
 Graffiacane succeeded in hooking one, and when he was pulled 
 out he looked like an otter. Around him the whole troop 
 gathered. Ciriatto made him feel with his tusks how one of 
 them rips. Among evil cats the mouse had come. Bar- 
 bariccia himself enforks him in his arms. Libicocco carries off 
 one of his sinews with his grapple, and Draghinazzo is about 
 to flay his legs when he is warned off by Barbariccia, who 
 wishes to give the sinner an opportunity of speaking with the 
 strangers. It turns out that he is Ciampolo of Navarre, who 
 had got command of the court of King Thibault, towards the 
 end of the thirteenth century, and practised barratry there on 
 a huge scale, selling all the offices that were in his gift. With 
 him down below were Gombita of Gallura, and Michael 
 Zanche, also a Sardinian. He would say more, but there 
 was Farfarello preparing to strike him. The leader of the 
 band, however, says to Farfarello, " Get thee away, wicked 
 bird," and Ciampolo offers to bring his companions to speak 
 with the strangers, if they will only persuade the demons to 
 stand aside, so that the wretches in the pitch might not fear 
 their claws. The demons readily saw through the trick ; but 
 Ciampolo assured them that he only wished to give them 
 ample sport by bringing the others up. He had not forgotten 
 his old devices. Alichino proposes that he should be taken 
 at his word ; but stipulates that he himself should be allowed 
 to act the falcon upon him as he descends, and beat his wings 
 over the water in readiness for the others. Without another 
 
HELL. Ill 
 
 word Ciampolo plunges down. Alichino follows ; but wings 
 could not vie with terror. The wretched soul escapes into the 
 seething mire. Calcabrina, who came upon the scene just as 
 the barrator escaped, turned his talons on Alichino, enraged 
 at Ciampolo's escape and the impudence of his colleague. In 
 their scuffle both fell into the poc^, and as their wings were 
 caught in the pitch, they found it impossible to set themselves 
 free. Barbariccia is obliged to send the other demons to drag 
 them out with their hooks. Virgil and Dante, glad of an 
 opportunity to escape, left them occupied in this pleasant 
 work. Dante, indeed, feared that they might accomplish 
 their task too rapidly and come on in pursuit like dogs after a 
 hare. At one time he believed they were at his heels. He 
 was not far mistaken, for just as Virgil lifted him and carried 
 him through the air to the sloping rock that enclosed the 
 sixth foss, bearing him on his breast as if he were his own son, 
 the demons arrived on the 'ridge just over them. There, how- 
 ever, they had to stop ; for the Supreme Ruler had ordained 
 that they could not pass the barrier. 
 
 The Sixth Foss. 
 
 The inhabitants of the sixth foss are the hypocrites. They 
 are a painted people who go around with slow steps. They 
 wear cloaks with lowered hoods that are gilded on the out- 
 side but within are heavy lead. Under these crushing mantles, 
 in comparison with which the cloaks of lead that were placed 
 on criminals by Frederick II. were light as straw, they are 
 weeping bitterly and look entirely vanquished. In life they 
 wore long and sanctimonious countenances ; here the mask 
 of their hypocrisy is fixed upon them for ever. The gold 
 outside and the lead within well symbolise the use they made 
 of their days of trial. 
 
 With eyes askance they gazed at the strangers and inquired 
 of Dante whence he came. On being told that he was a 
 native of Florence, and being asked in turn who they are, 
 
112 HELL. 
 
 they reply that they were " Frati Godenti " ^ and Bolognese, 
 " I was Catalano," said the spokesman, " and this one here 
 was Loderingo." ^ 
 
 As Dante was about to continue the conversation, his 
 attention was attracted by a sinner crucified with three stakes 
 on the ground. He lies cross-wise and naked on the path, 
 and is trampled under the feet of the others as they move 
 on with their leaden cloaks. At sight of Dante the wretch 
 quivers and " blows into his beard with sighs ". It was 
 Caiaphas, the high priest, who condemned Our Lord. In 
 a similar posture were to be seen farther on, Catalano tells 
 them, Annas and the other guilty chiefs of the Sanhedrin. 
 They, too, were staked and crucified and had to bear the 
 weight of the heavy cloaks whilst the other hypocrites passed 
 over their writhing bodies. 
 
 The travellers now inquire the way to the seventh foss, 
 and are not surprised to hear that Malacoda had lied to 
 them when he told them there was a gangway farther on 
 which they might pass. Catalano tells them they must 
 mount over the ruin that slopes from the bottom up to 
 the highway which continues beyond the broken arch to 
 pass over all the valleys. With difficulty the travellers 
 succeeded in climbing this rugged height, for it is no easy 
 task to escape the toils of the hypocrites. They mounted 
 
 1 The " Frati Gaudenti " were members of the order of " Santa Maria ". 
 They made knightly vows to fight against infidels, to protect the weak against 
 the strong, the widow and the orphan against their oppressors. As the order 
 was open to members who were married, and as it had obtained many privileges 
 and exemptions on account of its services, its members were called " Frati 
 Gaudenti," or " Godenti "- The English translation " Jovial Friars," which we 
 find in almost all Protestant works, is therefore entirely incorrect. They decayed, 
 no doubt, like the " Templars " and other organisations of the kind. 
 
 2 In 1266 the Florentines decided, in the hope of securing domestic peace, 
 to introduce from Bologna these two Frati Gaudenti and give them authority 
 to rule the city. They thought them honest and impartial, but were soon 
 deceived ; for the " Frati " were corrupted by the gold of the Guelphs, whose 
 tools they became. They persecuted the Ghibellines on all sides, burning their 
 houses and confiscating their property. 
 
HELL. 113 
 
 from jag to jag, testing each boulder as they went lest it 
 might give way under Dante's feet. At last they reached the 
 highway, and, as Dante expressively puts it : — 
 
 " The breath was so milked from my lungs when I reached 
 the top that I could proceed no farther but sat me down on 
 first arrival ". 
 
 Virgil, however, admonishes him that he must put sloth 
 aside ; for those who think they can reach to fame by sitting 
 on downy beds or lying under quilt will leave no more trace 
 of themselves than smoke on air or foam upon the water.^ 
 The poet here confesses his weak point ; for at Virgil's 
 mention of fame, he recovers his breath all at once and tells 
 his guide to move on : " for I am strong and resolute ". They 
 were soon on the brink of the seventh ditch. 
 
 The Seventh Foss. 
 
 Within the seventh foss the poet sees a heap of serpents 
 so terrible and so hideous that his very blood curdles at the 
 thought of them. 
 
 Amid this dread exuberance of woe 
 Ran naked spirits, winged with horrid fear ; 
 No hope had they of crevice where to hide, 
 Or heliotrope to charm them out of view. 
 
 They are the robbers. Lybia and Ethiopia never saw such 
 a brood of snakes as infest this den and plague its inhabitants. 
 The robbers have their hands tied behind with serpents which 
 fix through the loins of the sinner their tails and heads. 
 Bitten by some venomous reptile the soul sometimes falls 
 down in cinders to the ground but grows again from the fire 
 like the Phoenix of Arabia. And as he rises up he is dazed 
 
 ^ Che seggendo in piuma, 
 In fama non si vien, ne sotto coltre ; 
 Senza la qual chi sua vita consuma, 
 Cotal vestigio in terra di se lascia, 
 Qual fumo in aere od in acqua la schiuma. 
 
 " Inf.," canto xxiv. 
 
114 HELL. 
 
 and shaken like a man who has just recovered from a sudden 
 fit. 
 
 One of these who was close at hand, in reply to Virgil, 
 says : " I fell down from Tuscany a short time ago into this 
 cruel gullet. Bestial life, and not human, pleased me, mule 
 that I was. I am Vanni Fucci, beast, and Pistoia was my 
 fitting den ... I am put down so far because I was robber 
 of the sacristy with the fair ornaments." This Vanni Fucci, 
 an illegitimate son of Fuccio dei Lazzari, was one of the most 
 violent disturbers of the peace in Pistoia, and one of the chief 
 promoters of the dispute that arose there between the " Neri" 
 and the " Bianchi ". Dante here accuses him of being guilty of 
 the robbery of the cathedral sacristy, which is mentioned by 
 some historians as having taken place in 1293. He was a 
 ferocious partisan of the " Neri," and, on that account, particu- 
 larly obnoxious to the poet. He has lost none of his factious 
 spirit in hell ; for, aware of Dante's partiality for the " Bianchi," 
 he foretells their misfortunes with relish, knowing how much 
 the poet will be grieved at the prospect in store for himself 
 and all those associated with him. 
 
 The bravado of the Pistoian thief does not stop here. He 
 proceeds, with contemptuous gestures, to defy the Almighty 
 power that punishes him, until the serpents coiling round his 
 neck and arms bind him fast. Dante says that in all the 
 dark circles he saw no spirit so proud against God — not even 
 Capaneus, who was hurled down from the walls of Thebes. 
 But now Cacus,! the centaur, who is not with his colleagues 
 in the circle of the violent, because of his theft of the herds of 
 Geryon, comes rushing on, shouting, "Where, where is the 
 obdurate one ? " Before this awful monster, who bore upon his 
 shoulders a dragon that set on fire whatever it touched, Fucci 
 decamped. Nor could Virgil and Dante pay much heed to 
 the chase ; for several other thieves, all natives of Florence, 
 
 ' See Virgil, " jEneid," viii., 190, and Ovid " Fasti," i., 547. 
 
HELL. 115 
 
 had come up close to where they were standing. Vanni Fucci 
 was a robber of sacred things. Now come the robbers of 
 public and private property. There were Agnolo Brunelleschi, 
 Cianfa de' Donati, Buoso degli Abbati, Puccio Scanciato de' 
 Galigai, and Guercio de' Cavalcanti. The transformations 
 which these wretched souls undergo are horrible in the ex- 
 treme. One in the form of a serpent attacks the other who 
 has the human shape. They grasp one another, tear and 
 struggle until their bodies commingle, so that it is difficult to 
 say which is man and which is serpent. The encounter is so 
 terrible that Dante prefaces his description of it by saying : — 
 
 " If now, reader, thou art slow to credit what I tell thee, it 
 will be no marvel ; for I myself who saw scarcely admit it to 
 myself'.i 
 
 Never, he says, did ivy get so tight clasped to tree as 
 this horrible reptile (Cianfa) entwined its members round the 
 other (Agnolo). Then they clove together, as though they 
 had been of heated wax, and mingled their hues. 
 
 In the case of Buoso and Guercio the encounter is still 
 more dreadful, and the transformation more complete ; ^ for 
 he who at the beginning of the struggle was a serpent has the 
 human shape at the end, and vice versa. No wonder the poet 
 suggests that Lucan and Ovid may hide their heads ; for the 
 stories of Sabellius and Nassidius in the " Pharsalia," ' and of 
 Cadmus and Arethusa in the " Metamorphoses," have been 
 thrown entirely into the shade.* 
 
 1 Se tu sei or, lettore, a creder lento 
 Cio ch' io diro, non sara maraviglia, 
 Che io che il vidi, appena il mi consento. 
 ^ These transformations are symbolic of the confusion of "mine" and 
 " thine," which made these culprits thieves. 
 
 ' "Phars.," ix., 762; Ovid, "Metam.," v., 632. 
 
 ^ Taccia Lucano omai, la dov' ei tocca 
 Del misero Sabello e di Nassidio 
 Ed attenda ad udir quel ch'or si scocca 
 Taccia di Cadmo e d'Aretusa Ovidio. 
 
 " Inf.," canto xxv. 
 
116 HELL. 
 
 Before Dante moves away from this pit he breaks out into 
 an ironical denunciation of Florence, complimenting his native 
 city on the number of thieves she has sent down to hell.^ 
 
 The Eighth Foss. 
 
 From the brink of the eighth foss Dante sees a number of 
 flames moving about in the gloomy air. They remind him of 
 the fire-flies which the Italian peasant, resting on the hillside 
 when his work is done, sees flitting about in the gloom of the 
 summer's night down in the valley. But as Elias was con- 
 cealed from the vision of Elisha when he ascended in the fiery 
 chariot to heaven, so each of these flames conceals and carries 
 within itself a sinner. One of these moving lights is so 
 divided on the top that it recalls to Dante the pyre from 
 which the figures of Polynices and Eteocles arose in the 
 flame. He is curious to know who is the occupant of this 
 light. He is informed by Virgil that it contains both Ulysses 
 and Diomede, who here expiate the fraud of the Trojan 
 horse ; for it was they who suggested the ruse by which the 
 " Palladium '' was secured ; and this foss is the bed of evil 
 councillors. 
 
 In reply to Virgil, Ulysses tells the story of his final 
 Odyssey and death. When he set sail from the Cave of 
 Circe, near Gaeta, in search of adventures, he had only one 
 ship and a small band of sailors. Nevertheless, he passes the 
 Island of Sardinia, and in due time comes in view of Spain 
 and Morocco. The pillars of Hercules had hitherto been 
 regarded as the Land's End of the world ; but Ulysses passes 
 through the straits, and leaving Seville on his right hand, and 
 Ceuta on his left, steers his poop to the west and makes for 
 the high seas. On he sails for five months over the highway 
 of the deep, till he comes in sight of a lofty mountain. But 
 
 ^ Godi Firenze poi che sei grande 
 
 Che per mare e per terra batte I'ali, 
 E per lo inferno il tuo nome si spande. 
 
HELL. 117 
 
 the joy of the sailors on seeing land once more was soon 
 turned to weeping. For a whirlwind arose from the foot of 
 the mountain that wrecked his craft, and captain and crew 
 were engulfed in the sea. 
 
 This account of the death of Ulysses differs entirely from 
 that of classical tradition. Dante could invent a fable as well 
 as any other poet, and had clearly a perfect right to do so, if 
 it suited his theme. Some writers seem to think that the 
 poet had in mind the still undiscovered continent of America, 
 as the term of this perilous voyage. It seems clear, however, 
 that the mountain of purgatory was intended, for they were 
 " ever gaining on the left side," and the stars of the southern 
 hemisphere became visible, while those of the north descended 
 to the horizon. 
 
 The other representative of the evil councillors whom 
 Dante mentions is Count Guido da Montefeltro, the famous 
 Ghibelline general, who took part in a great many military 
 campaigns, and destroyed an army of Frenchmen that had 
 been sent by Pope Martin V. to encounter him at Forli. But 
 in penance for the excesses of his life in war, and in order to 
 secure the salvation of his soul, Guido retired from the world 
 in his old age, joined the Franciscan Order at Ancona, in 
 1296, and died at Assisi, in 1298. The crime which Dante 
 attributes to him is that he played during life the part of 
 the fox, rather than of the lion, and that when asked for his 
 opinion by Boniface VIII., as to the best means of reducing 
 to obedience the Colonnas and their followers, who were 
 under siege in the fortress of Palestrina,i gave the treacherous 
 advice — "to promise much but give little''. 
 
 Now this whole story is a fable,^ and was in all probability 
 regarded by Dante as a fable, and nothing more. It is on 
 that account that he feels at liberty to introduce it into his 
 
 ^ Lunga promessa con 1' attender corto 
 Ti fara trionfar nell' alto seggio. 
 " Inf.," canto xxvii. 
 ^ See Poletto, " Dizionario Dantesco," vol. iii., pp. 184, 186. 
 
118 HELL. 
 
 poem. He was not writing a treatise on history, and was not 
 bound by the laws of history. He himself pays a high tribute 
 to Guido in the "Convito," where he is bound to accuracy. 
 It is astonishing to find modern commentators repeating this 
 old fable as if it were gospel truth, and quoting in its support 
 writers like Muratori, who distinctly state that it deserves no 
 credence.^ 
 
 Guido ended his chequered life in peace and happiness ; 
 and the historian of the Convent of Assisi, where he died, has 
 entered an emphatic and enduring protest against the 
 aspersions of Dante on his fame.^ 
 
 The Ninth Foss. 
 
 In the ninth foss the poet finds the schismatics and 
 fomenters of civil discord. From the bridge overhead he looks 
 down and sees below human forms wounded and mutilated. 
 It is a terrible scene of carnage and blood. The authors of 
 strife and faction who divided upon earth what divine love 
 intended to be united undergo a penalty suited to their offence. 
 " If all the people were again assembled that of old on the 
 fateful land of Apulia lamented for the blood shed by the 
 Trojans . . . and one should show his limb pierced through, 
 and one his lopped off, it would be none to equal the grisly 
 sight of the ninth pit." ^ There was Mahomet, with his entrails 
 hanging between his legs, cleft in twain like a cask that had 
 lost its hoop. Before him went his son-in-law, the Caliph 
 Ali, his face rent asunder from chin to forelock. As they 
 
 ^ See Cardinal Wiseman's " Essays on Various Subjects," pp. 516, 518. See 
 also Muratori's "Annali d' Italia" vol. vii., p. 423, where he says: " Non' c' e 
 obbligazione credere questo fatto a Dante, persona troppo Ghibellina e che taglia 
 dappertutto i panni adosso a Papa Bonifazio," and farther on, " Forse i malevoli 
 inventarono questa novella " 
 
 2 Guido Montis Feltri, Urbini Comes ac Princeps ... in Ordine pie ac 
 humiliter vixit, errata lacrymis ac jejuniis diluens ; et quidquid in eum mordax 
 Dantis licentia cecinerit, religiosissime in sacra Assisiensi domo obiit, ac in ea 
 tumulatus. Id etiam contestantur qui extempore vixerunt Marianus et Jacobus. 
 Angeli. " Hist. Sac. Conven. Assis.," i., 45. 
 
 ^ " Inf.," canto xxviii. 
 
HELL. 119 
 
 reach a certain point of this long valley, which extends through 
 twenty-two miles, they find a demon standing who deals them 
 a blow of his two-edged sword and inflicts a wound that 
 tortures them until they meet the fiend again when he cleaves 
 them with another blow. Mahomet takes advantage of the 
 presence of Dante to send some advice to his follower, Fra 
 Dolcino, the leader of the sect called Fratricelli, who was 
 then disturbing the north of Italy, preaching community of 
 goods and plurality of wives. This hopeful reformer was 
 then hard pressed in the mountains between Novara and 
 Vercelli by the crusaders of Pope Boniface ; and Mahomet 
 is naturally anxious that he should be able to hold out 
 against the Christian arms, which he hates even more in hell 
 than he did on earth. 
 
 The next fomenter of discord recognised by the poet 
 was Pier da Medicina, who embroiled the Malatestas of 
 Rimini with the Polentas of Ravenna. He had his throat 
 pierced through, his nose cut off from the eyebrows down ; and 
 was lopped of one ear. The next of these disturbers was 
 Curio, who persuaded Cffisar to cross the Rubicon. Here he 
 appears with his tongue cut out from the throat ; for he had 
 been a great agitator for liberty, but sold his tongue to Caesar 
 for gold. After Curio comes Mosca dei Lamberti, who urged 
 on the feud between the Buondelmonti and the Amadei of 
 Florence. Then we are confronted with a personage whom 
 Dante introduces in the significant words : — 
 
 " But I lingered on gazing at the crowd, and beheld a 
 thing which without further proof I should be afraid to relate ; 
 but that conscience reassures me, the good companion which 
 makes a man bold under the breastplate of feeling itself pure." ^ 
 
 He then describes one of the most horrible spectacles that 
 he has yet witnessed : — 
 
 " Undoubtedly I saw, and still methinks I see it, a trunk 
 walking along without its head, even as the others of the 
 
 ^ " Inf.,'' canto xxviii. 
 
120 HELL. 
 
 mournful flock walked . . . And it held the severed head by 
 the hair, dangling it in its hand in the guise of a lantern ; 
 and it gazed at us and said : ' Woe is me '." 
 
 This wretched sinner addresses Dante as follows : — 
 " Now behold this grievous torment thou who, breathing, 
 gpest looking upon the dead. See if any torment be as great 
 as this : and that thou mayest carry tidings of me, know that 
 I am Bertrand de Born,^ he who gave the young king the evil 
 counsels. I made the father and the son rebels to each other. 
 Achitophel did not sow discord more with Absalom and 
 David with his wicked instigations. Because I divided 
 persons so united I, alas, carry my brains parted from the 
 spine which is in this mutilated trunk. Thus is the law of 
 retaliation observed in me." ^ 
 
 The last of the inhabitants of the ninth foss whom Dante 
 mentions is Geri del Bello, a member of his own family (his 
 father's cousin), a famous mischief-maker and a treacherous 
 enemy. He had killed a member of the Gemini family in 
 Florence, and in return was stabbed to death by one of them. 
 He is still indignant that no member of his own family has 
 avenged his death. He, therefore, passes on even in hell 
 without speaking to his kinsman. 
 
 The Tenth Foss. 
 
 The tenth foss contains falsifiers of all kinds, alchemists, 
 pretenders, coiners, forgers. If the sick from the hospitals of 
 Valdichiana, Maremma and Sardinia were taken out in the 
 hot weather, between July and September, and all cast alive 
 
 ' Bertrand de Born was Vicomte de Hautefort in Gascony. He was a 
 famous " troubadour " as well as a cavalier. He was a friend of young Prince 
 Henry, eldest son of Henry H. of England. He instigated the son to rebel 
 against his father and succeeded. In the great majority of codices of the 
 " Divina Commedia," the reading is "Re Giovanni " : " King John " ; instead of 
 " Re giovane " : " the young king "- The latter is, however, the correct reading. 
 Bertrand composed a great many " Sin^entes," which are still preserved in the 
 Vatican Library. According to Castella, he repented of his misdeeds, and died 
 a Cistercian monk. See Poletto " Dizionario Dantesco," vol. i., p. 163. 
 
 ^ " Inf.," canto xviii. 
 
HELL. 121 
 
 into the same ditch together, their pain would not be greater 
 than that of the sinners here. The bodies are lying over one 
 another, some shifting along the dismal path, some covered 
 with leprous itch, tearing the scales off their flesh. More 
 intently " than the stable-boy the currycomb " they ply their 
 nails. The stench of putrescent limbs, the foul odour of 
 wounds and filth, the exhalations of bodies in decay, fill the 
 air with a pestilence far more deadly than that which swept 
 away the people of ^gina till the population was restored 
 from the seed of ants at the prayer of King .^acus. 
 
 The first victim in this pit who is mentioned by Dante is 
 Griffolino d'Arezzo. He had promised a stupid young man 
 from Sienna, named Albero, that he would enable him to fly 
 like Daedalus ; and when he could not keep his promise, the 
 deceived youth denounced him to his father, who had him 
 condemned to be burnt. Many commentators are good 
 enough to inform us that the father of Albero, who put 
 Griffolino to death, was Bishop of Sienna. They take care, 
 however, not to tell us when he was bishop, or what was his 
 name. There is not a word about a bishop in Dante's text ; 
 and no Italian chronicler or historian can give the faintest 
 proof that the father of this youth was a bishop. To assert 
 it, of course, is one thing, to prove it another. In any case, 
 those amongst the early commentators who insist upon a 
 bishop and identify him as Buonfiglio, who governed Sienna 
 from 1216 to 1252, almost invariably add that the nephews 
 of bishops were often called sons in those days. 
 
 Reflecting for a moment on this condemnation for a mere 
 jest Dante exclaims : — 
 
 " Now was there ever a people so vain as the Siennese ? 
 Surely not even the French by a long way." 
 
 Or fu giammai 
 Gente si vana come la sanese 
 Certo non la francesca si d'assai. — " Inf.," canto xxix. 
 
 At these words another leprous sinner, named Capocchio, 
 who was with Griffolino, and who was probably himself a 
 
122 HELL. 
 
 native of Sienna, joined in tiie sally against the Siennese. 
 They are indeed vain people, he observes in irony, except 
 Stricca (Stricca being one of the worst), who knew how to 
 moderate expense, and Niccolo, who first discovered the 
 luxurious use of the clove, and the company amongst whom 
 Caccia d'Asciano squandered his vineyards, and Abbagliato 
 displayed his wisdom.^ Capocchio is a master of flouts and 
 jeers ; but whatever satisfaction he may have found in this 
 ironical thrust at some of his acquaintances and fellow-citizens 
 must soon be disturbed ; for two falsifiers of persons appear 
 suddenly upon the scene, biting about like pigs that are just 
 let loose from the sty; and one of them "seized Capocchio, 
 and in the nape of his neck so fixed his fangs, that dragging 
 him, he made his ribs grate along the solid bottom ". The 
 rage of this new pair is similar to that of Athamas, King of 
 Thebes, when he slew his son, Learchus, and caused his wife 
 to drown herself with her other child ; or to that of Hecuba, 
 when she lost her mind, and barked like a dog, as she gazed 
 upon the lifeless body of her son, Poliodorus, having already 
 seen the corpse of her cherished daughter, Polyxena. 
 
 One of these new sinners was Gianni Schicchi, a native of 
 Florence ; the other was Myrrha, the dissolute and impious 
 daughter of Cineros, King of Paphos. Both had perpetrated 
 their crimes by successful personation of others. The story 
 of Gianni Schicchi ^ is well authenticated, and is particularly 
 interesting to Irish readers as having suggested to Charles 
 Lever the plan of his novel, The Confessions of Con Cregan. 
 Dante's presentation of it here may be cited as an instance of 
 
 ^ Capocchio was a painter, and is believed by some to have been a native of 
 Florence and a schoolfellow of Dante. Stricca was probably one of the Mares- 
 cottis of Sienna, and a prominent member of the " Brigata Spendericcia," who 
 squandered a vast amount of money in feasts and banquets. Niccolo dei Salem- 
 beni was wholly absorbed in the study of cookery ; and amongst other things 
 devised a stuffing for pheasants composed of cloves and costly spices. Caccia d' 
 Asciano and Abbagliato were prominent members of the " Spendthrift Brigade "- 
 
 ^According to "Anonino Fiorentino,'' Gianni Schicchi belonged to the 
 family of the Cavalcanti, and was greatly skilled in personating others. Now, 
 when Buoso Donati, a famous Florentine thief, whose acquaintance we have 
 
HELL. 1^3 
 
 his wonderful power of condensing materials without omitting 
 a single important item of a long and complicated story. 
 
 When this rabid pair passed away, Master Adam of Brescia, 
 a famous coiner, came upon the scene. He appeared thin and 
 slender as a lute, save for his stomach, which was distended 
 with dropsy. When he had told the travellers who he was. 
 Master Adam continued : — ^ 
 
 Alive I had what fully met my will, 
 And now, alas 1 for drop of water sigh. 
 
 The little streamlets that from each green hill 
 Of Casentino down to Arno go, 
 And form full many a cool and pleasant rill ; 
 
 These not in vain around me ever flow. 
 
 Far more that vision sets my soul athirst 
 Than the foul ill that o'er my face works woe. 
 
 Stern justice, that repays my sin accursed, 
 
 The very place in which I sinned employs 
 To make me into sighs more frequent burst.^ 
 
 already made, was on his deathbed, he was most anxious to make a will and 
 restore the property he had stolen during his lifetime. To this his son Simone 
 was opposed, and kept parleying with Buoso till he died intestate. Simone was, 
 however, afraid that his father might have made a will. He had, therefore, 
 recourse to the ruse which Dante has recorded. He kept the dead body of his 
 father hid. Knowing the talent of Gianni Schicchi for counterfeiting others, and 
 particularly his father, it was agreed between them that Gianni should get into 
 bed and personate Buoso. Simone would then send for a notary, and Gianni 
 would dictate to him Buoso's will. Gianni accordingly got into bed, had all the 
 appearance of a dying man, put Buoso's nightcap on his head and imitated his 
 voice to perfection. After leaving a few paltry sums to the Friars Minors and 
 Dominicans, Gianni continued: "And I leave 500 florins to Gianni Schicchi". 
 At this Simone was enraged, but could not object. " I also leave Gianni my 
 mare, the Donna della Torma." Simone was again wild with rage, for this was 
 the finest horse in Northern Italy, but he was afraid to object. " I also leave 
 Gianni Schicchi 100 florins due to me by such and such a neighbour. For 
 the rest, I leave my son Simone residuary legatee on condition that these 
 bequests shall be executed within fifteen days ; failing which the whole heritage 
 goes to the Friars of Santa Croce." When the whole imposture was complete, 
 Gianni got out of the bed ; the corpse of Buoso was put in his place ; the whole 
 house began lamenting, and Buoso's death was announced to the public. 
 ' Li ruscelletti che de' verdi colli 
 
 Del Casentin dissendon giuso in Arno, 
 
 Facendo i lor canali freddi e molli, 
 Sempre mi stanno innanzi, e non indarno, 
 
 Che I'imagine lor via piu m' asciuga 
 
 Che '1 male ond io nel volto mi discarno. — " Inf.," xxx. 
 ^ Plumptre's translation. 
 
124 HELL. 
 
 Great as is his thirst, however, Master Adam would willingly 
 give up the prospect of quenching it if only he could see his 
 former employers, the Counts Guidi of Romena, suffering in 
 the same pit with himself. For them he falsified the coin of 
 Florence, mixing with the silver of the florin three carats of 
 alloy. He had heard, indeed, that one of the counts was 
 going round in this foss amongst the disfigured crew, but with 
 his diseased limbs he could not run to see him. 
 
 Dante inquires of Master Adam who are the two abject 
 wretches he sees lying close together to his right, from whom 
 a vapour was ascending as from wet hands in winter. Adam 
 says that when he himself fell down into this trough he found 
 them already there. One of them was the wife of Putiphar, 
 who falsely accused Joseph in Egypt,^ and the other was 
 Sinon, the false Greek of Troy. Sinon, enraged at this men- 
 tion of his treachery, moves up to Master Adam and smites 
 him on the paunch. Master Adam retaliates with a smart 
 blow in the face of his assailant. Then follows a comical onset 
 in words between these two. They remind one another of 
 their mutual crimes : Sinon tells Adam that he was not so free 
 with his fists when he was going to the fire (to be burnt for 
 coining). Adam replies that that is more true than what 
 Sinon answered when questioned in Troy. Sinon admits that 
 he did speak falsely, but that Adam falsified the coin, and 
 whilst he had committed only one offence, Adam had more 
 crimes to his account than any other demon. 
 
 " Recollect the horse, thou perjurer," replied he who had 
 his stomach swollen, " and let it be ill for thee that the whole 
 world knows it." "And to thee be bitter the thirst," said the 
 Greek, "and the putrid water that lifts up thy belly like a 
 hedge before thine eyes." " If I am parched with thirst and 
 humour swells me out," said the coiner, "thou hast the burning 
 and the head that aches, and to lick the mirror of Narcissus 
 thou wouldst not want many words of invitation." Virgil 
 
 1 See Genesis, chap, xxxix., and " ^neid," ii., 57. 
 
HELL. 125 
 
 reproves Dante for the attention he has paid to this vulgar 
 brawl. Dante himself is heartily ashamed of his conduct, 
 endeavours to express his regret and humiliation, but is 
 readily forgiven by his magnanimous guide. 
 
 THE NINTH CIRCLE. 
 
 CANTOS XXXI., XXXII., XXXIII. 
 
 Having finished their exploration of the ten fosses of 
 " Malebolge," the poets now make their way across the 
 plateau which stretches out between them and the brink of 
 the ninth circle. In the dim light Dante descries in the 
 distance figures which seem to him to be the towers of some 
 great city, but which are in reality the giants who stand on 
 guard around the lowest pit. Their limbs are fixed in the lake 
 of frozen ice below. Half their bodies are thus held within the 
 chasm, whilst the upper halves project above the verge, and 
 are, therefore, now visible to the explorers. Suddenly one of 
 these giants sounds a blast from his horn louder than any 
 thunder, and far more loud than that which Roland blew after 
 the defeat of Charlemagne and his paladines in the vale of 
 Roncevalles. As the archangels surround the throne of God 
 so do the giants here, emblems of pride which is the root of 
 every evil, stand around the throne of the arch-fiend, the 
 author of all pride and all revolt. 
 
 As Dante describes the huge proportions of those monsters 
 he expresses his thankfulness that nature has ceased to pro- 
 duce their like, for the peace and happiness of the world. 
 Minute descriptions^ are given of Nimrod, Ephialtes, and 
 
 1 Nimrod is as long and as broad as the ball of St. Peter's. If three 
 Frisians were to stand on top of one another they would make a vain boast of 
 reaching his hair. He is stupid and confused, as becomes the personage who 
 brought confusion into the world by attempting to set up the Tower of Babel 
 in the plain of Senaar. Now nobody understands his speech, and he under- 
 stands nobody. Hence his stupidity: for it is a well-known fact in natural 
 science that those who have not the gift of speech well developed are stupid 
 and almost idiotic. The rage of Ephialtes on seeing the strangers was some- 
 thing awful. Fright alone would have killed Dante, had he not seen the huge 
 shackles by which the monster was bound. 
 
126 HELL. 
 
 Antaeus. Briareus is farther on, and out of sight, but re- 
 sembles Ephialtes, according to Virgil, except that he is 
 more fierce and terrible in appearance. All of them are 
 chained with weighty shackles, which pass several times 
 around their bodies, except Antaeus, who is free and less 
 ferocious than the others. It is he who is to lift down the 
 travellers to the bottom of the pit. Virgil proceeds to pro- 
 pitiate him by reminding him of his former prowess in slaying 
 lions in Africa, and tells him that Dante, who is still alive, 
 may yet have an opportunity of celebrating his exploits in the 
 world above. 
 
 Then the giant stretched out the hands of which Hercules 
 once felt the mighty clutch, took the pair and lightly set them 
 down in the depth that engulphs Lucifer. The giant then 
 raised himself up like the huge mast of a ship. 
 
 This last circle, which is a lake of ice formed by the freez- 
 ing of the river Cocytus, contains traitors of all kinds, and is 
 divided into four concentric rings, called Caina, Antenora, 
 Tolomea, and Guidecca. Caina is the abode of traitors to 
 their kindred, Antenora of traitors to their country, Tolomea 
 of traitors to their friends, and Guidecca of traitors to their 
 benefactors. 
 
 Caina. 
 
 In describing this last circle the poet seems almost to 
 despair of his powers ; for, as Wright interprets him, he 
 says : — 
 
 Had I a rhyme less rugged, rough, and hoarse. 
 
 As would become the sorrowful abyss, 
 
 O'er which the rocky circles wind their course, 
 Then with a more appropriate form I might 
 
 Endow my vast conceptions ; wanting this, 
 
 Not without fear I bring myself to write. 
 For no light enterprise it is, I deem, 
 
 To represent the lowest depths of all ; 
 
 Nor should a childish tongue attempt the theme. 
 
HELL. 127 
 
 It would have been better for the ill-begotten rabble here 
 had they been sheep or goats. The ice is thicker than was 
 ever seen in winter on the Danube or the Don. If the moun- 
 tains of Tambernic or Pietrapana were to fall upon it it would 
 not crack even at the edge. The wretched traitors to their 
 kindred, the imitators of Cain, are fixed upright in this thick- 
 ribbed ice, their heads alone exposed. They look like frogs 
 who put their muzzles out of the water, and, in the hot nights 
 of harvest-time, croak in every pool. Their teeth chatter and 
 tears flow copiously from their eyes. Two of them were 
 pressed so closely together that the hair of their heads inter- 
 mingled. On their attention being awakened by Dante they 
 butt at one another like two angry goats. One of the shades 
 hard by informs the strangers that these two are brothers — 
 Counts of Mangona — who hated one another so fiercely in 
 the upper life that each contrived to slay the other. " There is 
 not a soul in Caina," he adds, " who more richly deserves to be 
 there than this pair, not even Modred, who plotted to dethrone 
 and slay his father, King Arthur, nor Focaccia of Pistoia, 
 whose treacherous crimes, committed against members of his 
 own family, led to the deadly feud of the ' Bianchi ' and the 
 ' Neri '." 
 
 Another soul, quite close to the speaker, was Sasso 
 Mascheroni, who had murdered the only son and heir of his 
 uncle, one of the Toschi of Florence, in order to secure his 
 wealth. The speaker himself was Camicion de' Pazzi, who, 
 having been bribed by the " Neri " of Florence, betrayed his 
 own kinsmen, the Pazzi of the Valdarno, into their hands. 
 When they see his brother, Carlino, farther down they will 
 think less of his own crime ; for Carlino, having first profited 
 by the bribes of the " Neri," then sold the castle back again to 
 the " Bianchi ". 
 
] 28 HELL. 
 
 Antenora."^ 
 
 In the second ring of the frozen lake are the traitors to 
 their country. The cold makes them grin like dogs. Dante 
 himself was shivering ; and as he was stepping among the 
 heads that were sticking up through the ice, he struck one 
 with his foot heavily in the face. This wretch, weeping, cried 
 angrily, "Why dost thou kick me?" It was Bocca degli 
 Abbati, who marched with the Florentines to the battle of 
 Monte Aperti in 1260, but turned against his comrades in the 
 thick of the fight, and betrayed them to Farinata degli 
 Uberti. Dante, who is curious to find out who this traitor is, 
 offers to contribute to his renown in the world above if he will 
 reveal himself. That is just what the wretched traitor does 
 not want, and simply tells Dante to take himself off. Dante 
 then seized him by the hair of the head, and proceeded 
 to force him to show his countenance.^ Bocca resisted. 
 Dante struggled with him, but it was no use. Bocca barked 
 and whined, but would neither give his name or show his 
 face. Then a neighbouring shade betrays him, to his great 
 discomfiture, shouting, " What ails thee, Bocca ? " In retalia- 
 tion, Bocca gives the name of the wretch who had peached 
 on him. It was Buosa da Duera, who sold the pass in a 
 campaign between Charles of Anjou and Manfred. Then, as 
 he has commenced, he thinks it as well to point out other 
 companions in treachery. There, on one side, was Tesauro 
 dei Beccheri, who was accused of betraying the Guelphs, 
 and was beheaded by the Florentines.^ Farther on was 
 
 ' Antenor was regarded as a traitor to his country ; because he recommended 
 that Helen, the whole cause of the Trojan war, should be restored to Menelaus. 
 It is in memory of him that this ring is called " Antenora "- 
 
 2 This act of physical violence on the part of Dante is quite unique. It not 
 only expresses the poet's intense hatred of political treachery, but is intended 
 to show that the state has a right to make use of all possible coercive devices 
 in order to make traitors confess their crimes. 
 
 ' Di cui sego Fiorenza la gorgiera. 
 
HELL. 129 
 
 Gianni de' Soldanieri, who changed sides in the rebellion of 
 1266, when he saw which way the wind blew. Near him was 
 Ganelon, through whose treachery the army of Charlemagne 
 was defeated at Roncevalles ; and close by was Tribaldello, 
 who betrayed Faenza to the Guelphs in 1280. 
 
 But the most conspicuous pair in Antenora are Ugolino of 
 Pisa, and his mortal enemy, the Archbishop Ruggieri. To 
 these, accordingly, Dante turns his attention when he has 
 finished his interview with Bocca. No passage of the whole 
 "Commedia" has attracted so much attention as the one in 
 which this episode is described. Chaucer translated it in 
 " The Monkes Tale ". Michael Angelo ^ and Sir Joshua Rey- 
 nolds painted it. W. Savage Landor gave expression to the 
 opinion that thirty lines of it are unequalled by any other 
 thirty in the whole dominion of poetry.^ 
 
 The heads of the two enemies were frozen into the ice 
 together. The uppermost of the two gnaws at the skull of 
 the other, fixing his teeth in the part where the head is joined 
 to the neck. Not otherwise did Tydeus gnaw the temples of 
 Menalippus. At the request of Pante, Ugolino discontinues 
 his savage repast, wiping his mouth in the hair of Ruggieri, 
 and relates the terrible story by which he endeavours to justify 
 his present occupation. 
 
 Knowing from Dante's speech that he is a Florentine, he 
 
 ' Une traduction admirable et peu connue de ce recit terrible est un bas- 
 relief de Michel-Ange, que j'ai vu a Florence, au palais della Gherardesca. La 
 faim, sous les traits d'une horrible vieille, plane au-dessus des personnages, et 
 montre a Ugolin ses trois iils mourants. Le pere, debout, s'appuie sur une main ; 
 de I'autre, il presse ses entrailles et regarde en face sa terrible ennemie. L'atti- 
 tude d'un des jeunes gens, qui contemple son firere ^tendu a ses pieds, est 
 animee d'une expression touchante. Au-dessous I'Arno est represente, dans 
 cette poetique composition, d^tournant les yeux de tant d'horreurs. C'est encore 
 un souvenir de Dante. Celui-ci, dans son indignation contre Pise, s'adresse k 
 I'Arno et lui demande de noyer le peuple qui a laiss^ consommer une telle 
 barbaric. A ce sujet, j'ai eu lieu de me convaincre, par une nouvelle preuve, de 
 I'exactitude g^ographique du grand poete. " La Grece, Rome et Dante," par 
 J. J. Ampere, p. 236. 
 
 ^ Pentameron, " Conversation between Petrarch and Boccaccio ". 
 
 9 
 
130 HELL. 
 
 takes it for granted that he knows the story of his capture 
 and of his imprisonment in the tower of the Gualandi, with 
 his two sons, Gaddo and Uggucione, and his two grandsons, 
 Nino and Anselmuccio. What Dante, however, cannot 
 know, is the torture the unhappy prisoners suffered ; and this 
 is what Ugolino now wants him to make known to the whole 
 world. Never was commission more faithfully executed. 
 
 Through a narrow loophole in the fortress, which has since 
 been called " The Tower of Hunger," the light of the moon 
 made its way into the dark prison, and enabled the luckless 
 inmates to count the dismal days and nights. A morning 
 came, however, when no food was brought to them, and they 
 could hear the sound of the hammer nailing up the doors. 
 Ugolino suspected that the evil hour had come. Yet he wept 
 not, but put on a bold face, and was resolved to keep his 
 courage to the last. 
 
 when a faint beam 
 Had to onr doleful prison made its way 
 And in four countenances I descried 
 The image of my own, on either hand 
 Through agony I bit. And they who thought 
 I did it through desire of feeding, rose 
 O' the sudden and cried : Father 1 we should grieve 
 Far less if thou woulds't eat of us.' 
 
 Thou gavest 
 These weeds of miserable flesh we wear, 
 And do thou strip them off from us again. 
 
 When we came 
 To the fourth day, then Gaddo at my feet 
 Outstretched did fling him crjdng, " Hast no help 
 For me ray father ? " Then he died. And e'en 
 Plainly as thou seest me, saw I the three 
 Fall one by one 'twixt the fifth day and the sixth. 
 Whence I betook me, now grown blind, to grope 
 Over them all ; and for three days aloud 
 Called on them that were dead. Then fasting 
 Got the mastery of grief.* 
 
 1 Padre assai ci fia men voglia 
 Se tu mangi di noi ; tu ne vestisti 
 Queste misere carni ; e tu le spoglia. 
 
 ' Cary's Translation . 
 
HELL. 131 
 
 Having thus related his story, the wretched Ugolino seized 
 with his teeth the miserable skull, and proceeded, with eyes 
 distorted, to continue his infernal work. 
 
 If Archbishop Ruggieri^ was guilty of treachery in his 
 dealings with the count, Ugolino, too, was a traitor himself, 
 and that is why they are placed together in this ring : for in a 
 naval battle with the Genoese, he deserted his own flag and 
 gave the victory to the enemies of his country. Pisa, indeed, 
 was in those days such a nest of traitors and self-seekers, 
 that Dante prays it may be swallowed up in the floods of the 
 Arno.i 
 
 TOLOMEA. 
 
 Tolomea, in which traitors to their guests and friends are 
 punished, is called after Ptolemy, son of Abobus, who invited 
 to a banquet Simon, the brother of Judas Maccabaeus, with 
 his sons Mathathias and Judas, but had men hid in the 
 hall of the feast, who slew his guests and their servants, and 
 " committed a great treachery in Israel and rendered evil 
 for good "? The torment here is even more severe than in 
 Caina and Antenora. The sinners lie on their backs, fixed in 
 the ice, with upturned faces. Their tears give them no relief, 
 for they are frozen as soon as they trickle forth, and form 
 a crystal visor over the unhappy face. A wind caused by 
 the motion of Satan's wings makes the cold more bitter on 
 this frozen surface. 
 
 One of the wretched victims here asks Dante to remove 
 the solid veil from his face, that he might vent his grief 
 even for a moment ere his tears became again congealed. 
 Dante pledges himself to remove the blinding crust if the 
 sinner will but reveal his identity. The shade then answered : 
 
 ^ It should not be forgotten that Ruggieri was three times summoned to 
 Rome to account for his barbarous conduct and was finally condemned by the 
 Pope " in contumaciam ". See Balbo's " Vita di Dante," p. 72. 
 
 "^ Maccabees, xvi., 16, 17. 
 
132 HELL. 
 
 " I am Frate Alberigo ^ ; I am he of the fruits of the evil 
 garden, who here receive back a date for a fig ". Dante is 
 astonished at this intelligence ; for he knew that Alberigo 
 was still alive in the world above. But the shade explained 
 that when a man reaches such a depth of guilt as his, his 
 soul is carried down to hell even before his death, and a 
 demon takes possession of his body and animates it on 
 earth until its time has run its course. " Perhaps, indeed," 
 said Alberigo, " my neighbour here, Ser Branca d'Oria,^ may 
 be still making his appearance above." Dante thought he 
 was simply being deceived ; for he knew that Branca was 
 still alive. But Alberigo persists, and maintains that since 
 the murder of Michel Zanche, his father-in-law, who is in 
 the pitch amongst the barrators, the soul of Branca has been 
 down here, and a demon has taken its place in the body that 
 " walks, and sleeps, and drinks, and puts on clothes ". 
 
 Fra Alberigo now implores Dante to redeem his promise 
 and remove from his eyes the frozen tears ; but, strange to 
 say, Dante refuses to keep his word, as if he meant that with 
 such traitors no faith need be kept. He proceeds, on the 
 other hand, to express his astonishment that the Genoese are 
 not exterminated from the world, filled as they are with every 
 vice and estranged from every virtue. 
 
 ' Alberigo was one of the " Frati Gaudenti," and a native of Faenza. 
 Having been struck in the face and insulted by his younger brother, Manfredo, 
 he kept cool and bided his time. Subsequently Manfredo, thinking he had 
 forgotten the incident, or at least forgiven it, expressed a v?ish to be reconciled, 
 and was invited to a feast by Alberigo, in whose heart resentment rankled as 
 bitterly as ever. It was agreed between Alberigo and his servants that when 
 he should give the signal, " Veniant Fructus," they should fall upon Manfredo 
 and his son and kill them both . So it was done and the crime of Absalom was 
 renewed. 
 
 2 Branca d'Oria was a native of Genoa who treacherously murdered his 
 father-in-law, Michel Zanche, in 1275. In 1308, he and Opicino Spinola held 
 lordship over Genoa and banished the Fieschi. It is said that when Dante once 
 visited Genoa, Branca d'Oria showed him hostility. 
 
HELL. 133 
 
 GlUDECCA. 
 
 The wings of Lucifer himself come at last in view. 
 
 Vexilla regis prodeunt inferni. 
 
 They look like the arms of a huge windmill in the distance. 
 To protect himself against the wind, Dante is obliged to take 
 shelter behind his leader ; and from this position he can see 
 the sinners of Giudecca^ undergoing punishment. Their 
 pain is still more severe than that of the other traitors. They 
 are totally submerged in the ice, and can be seen through 
 its transparent substance in all kinds of attitudes. Some are 
 prone on their faces, others upright, others arched like a bow, 
 with heel to head and face to feet. When they had come 
 right in front of Lucifer ^ Virgil steps aside and says to his 
 companion : " There is Dis ! and there must thou arm thyself 
 with fortitude ". The very sight of the Evil One froze the 
 veins of the terrified traveller. He stood before Satan there 
 on the surface of Cocytus, not wholly dead, and yet barely 
 alive. 
 
 The Emperor of that realm of woe emerged out of the ice 
 from mid-breast upwards. His arms would bear the same 
 comparison with a giant that the giant would with Dante. 
 If he once was fair as he now is hideous, no wonder that all 
 evil should proceed from him. On his head were three faces, 
 a blasphemous mimicry of the Blessed Trinity. One of them 
 was red with anger and shame ; the other was a yellowish- 
 white, the symbol of all envy and hatred ; the third was black 
 as the most sable inhabitant of Africa, the yery type of igno- 
 rance and treachery. Beneath each of the faces came forth 
 the wings, of size befitting so huge a bird. " Sails of the sea 
 never saw I of such a kind. They had no feathers, but their 
 fashion was that of a bat ; and he was flapping them so that 
 
 ' Called after Judas Iscariot. 
 
 ' La creatura ch' ebbe il bel sembiante. 
 
134. HELL. 
 
 three winds went forth from him, whereby Cocytus was all con- 
 gealed. With six eyes he was weeping, and over three chins 
 trickled the tears and bloody drivel. At each mouth he was 
 crunching a sinner with his teeth, in the manner of a brake, 
 so that he kept three of them in agony. To the one in front 
 the biting was nothing to the clawing, so that at times his 
 back remained all stripped of skin." ^ This wretch, whose 
 head was in the red mouth of the front face and whose legs 
 were plying without, was Judas Iscariot. The sinner in the 
 black muzzle was Brutus, and the third was Cassius. These 
 three sinners typify the enemies of the two most blessed insti- 
 tutions that Providence intended for the happiness of man- 
 kind — the Church and the Empire. They are consequently 
 sinners of the deepest dye, and receive a chastisement propor- 
 tionate to their guilt. 
 
 " But the night is rising again," says Virgil, " and now we 
 must depart, for we have seen the whole." ^ 
 
 Dante then clasped his arms round his leader's neck ; and 
 as Lucifer lifted up his wings, Virgil, watching for his oppor- 
 tunity, caught hold of his shaggy sides, and from shag to shag 
 he managed to descend between the bushy hair and the frozen 
 crusts, bearing Dante on his bosom, until they reached the 
 point where the thigh turns on the thick of the haunch. 
 Then Virgil, with one mighty effort, swung himself round, 
 bringing his head to where his feet had been, and clutched at 
 the hair like one who clambers up, so that Dante thought 
 they were returning again to hell. The master, however, 
 panting like one exhausted, shouted to him to hold on fast ; 
 that this was the only stairs by which such evil could be 
 escaped. At last they issued forth through the cleft of a rock, 
 on the margin of which Virgil deposited his burden, remaining 
 near him still lest any danger might befall him. Dante now 
 
 * " Inf.," canto xxxiv. 
 ' Ma la notte risurge ; ed oramai 
 E da partir, che tutto avem veduto. 
 
HELL. 135 
 
 sees the legs but not the head of Lucifer, for they had passed 
 from the northern to the southern hemisphere, and that was 
 the cause of Virgil's exertion ; being at the centre of the 
 earth he had to swing himself round so as to bring his own 
 shade and the body of his companion into the equilibrium 
 necessary for the outward journey. Virgil explains this 
 graphically to his companion. He further tells him that the 
 passage through which they are now to make their exit is the 
 aperture made by Lucifer when he was hurled down to the 
 earth's centre. This dark passage, which is indicated all along 
 the way only by the sound of a little rivulet, is long as it is 
 dark and monotonous. Through this secret path, then, the 
 faithful pair start on their outward journey. They took no 
 rest upon the way, but moved on incessantly, Virgil first and 
 Dante close behind, until through a round aperture they at 
 last get a glimpse of the beautiful things of heaven, and come 
 forth to see again the stars. 
 
136 
 
 PURGATORY. 
 
 The fundamental difference between hell and purgatory is 
 perceptible in the very first lines of this second part of the 
 " Commedia ". A feeling of intense relief finds expression in 
 the bright pictures of the first canto. It would be impossible 
 to render more vividly, and at the same time with such 
 poetic adaptation of words and sentiments, the contrast be- 
 tween despair and hope, between eternal and merely temporal 
 chastisement. 
 
 " To speed o'er fairer waters the little vessel of my genius 
 now spreads her sails, as she leaves behind her so cruel a 
 sea. And I will sing of that second realm in which the human 
 soul is purified and becomes worthy to ascend to heaven." ^ 
 The poet then invokes the sacred Muses, and calls with a 
 special prayer upon Calliope to rise again and accompany his 
 verses with that melodious song which once made the ill-fated 
 Picae ^ despair of pardon. The darkness and foul atmosphere 
 from which he has escaped make nature and its scenes now 
 doubly beautiful to him. 
 
 " A lovely hue of oriental sapphire that was diffused 
 through the serene aspect of the heavens shone once more on 
 my delighted eyes as soon as I issued forth from the atmo- 
 
 > " Purg.," canto i. 
 
 " The Picae were the nine daughters of Pereus, King of Thessaly. They 
 challenged the Muses to a trial of skill, and chose to sing the praises of the 
 Titans who made war on Jupiter. They were vanquished, and changed into 
 magpies ; and the Muses assumed their name of Pierides. 
 
PURGATORY. 137 
 
 sphere of death which had filled my mind and my breast with 
 sadness." ^ 
 
 Then turning to the right hand he sees the four stars of 
 the great constellation, now known as the " Southern Cross," 
 which he tells us none but the earliest race of mankind had 
 ever before looked upon.^ The whole heaven seemed to be 
 lit up with gladness by their flaming rays. 
 
 " O regions of the North ! " he exclaims, " how widowed are 
 you, seeing that you are debarred from gazing on such stars 
 as these ! " 
 
 Dante is believed by many commentators to have heard 
 of this constellation from the celebrated traveller, Marco Polo, 
 who was in Venice in the year 1295, on his return from 
 his voyage to Java and Madagascar. But who were the 
 primal race who saw these stars before the poet ? Some say 
 they were our first parents Adam and Eve, who inhabited 
 the terrestrial paradise on the top of the Mountain of Pur- 
 gatory. This mountain, it will be remembered, was, according 
 to Dante's cosmographic system, in the southern hemisphere. 
 It was caused, as the fancy of the poet represents it, by the 
 fall of Lucifer. The earth which he struck receded into this 
 pile, and the surrounding land was covered with a veil of 
 water. On the top of the mountain our first parents were 
 placed. It was the garden of Eden ; and from it they could 
 discern the " four holy stars ". Others, however, believe that 
 Dante alludes here to the early races of mankind, who could 
 have seen the cross in the northern hemisphere where, accord- 
 
 ' Dolce color d'oriental zaffiro, 
 
 Che s'accoglieva nel sereno aspetto 
 Deir aer puro infino al primo giro, 
 Agli occhi miei ricomincio diletto, 
 
 Tosto ch' io usci' fuor dell' aura morta, 
 Che m'avea contristato gli occhi e '1 petto. 
 
 " Purg.," canto i. 
 ^ Io mi volsi a man destia e posi mente 
 Air altro polo e vidi quattio stelle 
 Non viste mai fuor ch' alia prima gente 
 
138 PURGATORY. 
 
 ing to the laws of astronomy, it was visible thousands of years 
 before. 
 
 " The remarks of Alexander von Humboldt " (writes Dr. 
 Barlow m the Athenmum of September, i860) "from whose 
 comprehensive soul the poetry of nature was never absent,, 
 form the best commentary on this passage of Dante which 
 I have ever met with. He says : ' In consequence of the 
 procession of the equinoxes, the starry heavens are continually 
 changing their aspect from every portion of the earth's surface. 
 The early races of mankind beheld in the far north the glorious 
 constellations of the southern hemisphere, which, after remain- 
 ing long invisible, will again appear in those latitudes after 
 the lapse of thousands of years. The southern cross began to 
 become invisible in 52° 30" north latitude, 2900 years before 
 our era, since, according to Galle, this constellation might 
 previously have reached an altitude of ten degrees ' (' Cosmos,* 
 vol. ii.). 
 
 " How truly, therefore, Dante speaks of this constellation : — 
 
 Non viste mai fuor ch' alia prima gente ; 
 
 meaning by these not Adam and Eve, as ' la gente grossa ' 
 would have us believe, but the early races which inhabited 
 Europe and Asia. Americo Vespucci, in his third voyage, 
 called to mind this third passage of Dante, and even boasted 
 that ' he now looked on the four stars never seen till then 
 by any save the first human pair '. . . . Ddnte had certainly 
 heard of these four stars, though not as a cross, nor does he 
 mention them as such, but as ' quattro stelle ' and ' le quattro 
 luci sante,' and had most likely seen them on some celestial 
 globe, though not as forming a distinct constellation. In the 
 time of Adrian and of Antoninus Pius, these four stars which 
 are mentioned in the ' Almagest ' were regarded as parts 
 of the constellation Centaurils, under whose hind-legs ,they 
 occur, and Humboldt thinks it strange, since their figure is 
 so striking and so remarkably well defined, that they should 
 
PURGATORY. 1S9 
 
 not earlier have been separated from the larger constellation. 
 It was not, however, until the sixteenth century that, owing to 
 the religious feelings of Christian navigators and missionaries, 
 these stars were erected into the symbol of man's salvation." 
 And further on : " Nothing can be more positive or truer than 
 that these stars had always been visible to some portion of 
 mankind and will again at some future time be visible in 
 our northern latitudes : — 
 
 Goder paieva il ciel di lor fiamelle ; 
 
 an expression which could only have been uttered by one 
 who, if he had not actually seen them, must yet have felt how 
 beautiful they were. This is one of those marvellous descrip- 
 tions of the great poet in which, by his wondrous art, with a 
 single line of his pen, he sets things before us, so that we 
 can see them with our mind's eye as distinctly as he did: — 
 
 Oh settentrional vedovo sito 
 Poi che privato se' di mirar quelle ! 
 
 intimating that our northern hemisphere once possessed them,, 
 and that their absence is a privation to it. In Dante we 
 sometimes hardly know which to admire most, his science 
 or his poetry." ^ 
 
 The first figure which Dante and his companion saw on. 
 their entrance to the region they were now to explore was 
 that of an aged man, alone, and worthy of such reverence in 
 his countenance that no son owes more to a father. His beard 
 was long, and the white tresses of his hair fell in double folds, 
 upon his breast. The beams of the four holy stars so lit up 
 his countenance that the poet thought it was the sun itself 
 that shone before him. This was Cato, the warder of Pur- 
 gatory. Here, therefore, we are confronted with a twofold 
 problem^ How is it that Dante, the christian, who follows 
 so carefully the teaching of the Church in his location of 
 
 ^ See Athenaum, No. 1715, 8th Sept., i86o. Letter of H. C. Barlow on 
 " The Southern Cross " as seen by Dante, pp. 323, 324. 
 
140 PURGATORY. 
 
 the great poets, philosophers and statesmen, of pagan times, 
 ■departs from it here, to all appearances, and introduces into 
 Purgatory one who was not only a pagan but a suicide? 
 Cato was, moreover, a sworn enemy of Caesar. It was rather 
 than fall into the hands of the conqueror that he committed 
 ■suicide at Utica in the year 46 B.C. And we know that all 
 the enemies of Caesar and of the imperial power fared badly 
 at the poet's hands. The pagan philosophers and teachers are 
 confined in the first circle of Hell with Homer, Aristotle, Plato, 
 Averroes. The suicides are down in the seventh circle in the 
 ■groves inhabited by harpies and foul birds, with Pietro delle 
 Vigne. The enemies of the empire, Brutus and Cassius, are at 
 the bottom of the pit. How comes it that Cato, a pagan, a 
 suicide, and an enemy of Caesar is met with in Purgatory ? 
 
 In the first place we must suppose that Dante made pro- 
 vision in this singular instance for that class of souls which 
 bear witness to the infinite power of God and to the inscrutable 
 ways of His Providence, which is not bound by the ways and 
 rules of human wisdom. God can, if He so wills, illumine the 
 mind of any individual and confer upon him the gift of faith, 
 whether implicit or explicit. Cato is, therefore, a theoretical 
 personage here. He is an example of the principle which 
 overrules all our notions of the dealings of God with His 
 creatures. He was recommended to Dante for this special 
 Jionour by the natural virtues which distinguished him during 
 life — by his love of truth, which had become proverbial ; by 
 his civic virtue and disinterestedness, by the prudence and 
 patriotism which he displayed during the conspiracy of Cata- 
 line, the war with Ptolemy, the triumvirate of Caesar, Pompey 
 and Crassus, and the final contest between the two great 
 rivals. He was, moreover, modest in his dress and moderate 
 in victory, refusing a triumph when he returned victorious to 
 Rome. He also believed, according to his lights, in a future 
 ■existence, and is said to have committed suicide after having 
 read Plato's treatise on the immortality of the soul. These 
 
PURGATORY. 141' 
 
 natural virtues, though by no means sufficient for salvation 
 from a christian point of view, had weight with the poet in 
 making an exception in Cato's favour by placing him at the' 
 entrance to Purgatory. The four stars which shine so brightly 
 on his countenance are therefore symbolic here of the four 
 cardinal virtues. The Church, which has proclaimed the 
 glory of so many of her children, has never positively asserted 
 the damnation of any individual. Who shall scrutinise the 
 depths of Divine Providence — " profunda Dei " ? ^ This alone 
 seems to be the poet's justification. It is on similar grounds 
 he introduces Rhipeus into heaven, the one just man amongst 
 the Teucri. 
 
 Rhipeus justissimus unus 
 Qui fuit in Teucris, et servantissimus sequi. 
 
 Virg., "^n.," ii. 
 
 The new-comers are challenged by Cato, and asked how 
 they have escaped from the eternal prison, coming up against 
 the course of the dark subterranean rivulet. He wonders 
 whether the laws of the pit are broken or what new counsels 
 have changed the ways of heaven. Virgil courteously informs 
 him of the cause and object of their journey, and after some 
 friendly interchanges they are allowed to proceed. Virgil is 
 instructed before they start to wash the foulness off the face 
 of his companion, that he might not go into the presence of 
 the first angel with his eyes dimmed by the remnants of the 
 mist of hell. The dawn was overcoming the breeze ^ of early 
 morning, which, as it retreated, ruffled somewhat the surface 
 of the sea. And the poet says : — 
 
 "As soon as we had reached a spot where the dew yet 
 strives with the sun, and, being in the shade, had not yet 
 evaporated, my master gently laid both his hands upon the 
 
 ^ See " St. Thomas," M. iii., sent. D., 28. 
 
 ' L'alba vincea gia I'ora mattutina, 
 Che fiiggia 'nnanzi, si che di lontano, 
 Conobbi il tremolar della maiina 
 
442 PURGATORY. 
 
 grass ; wherefore I, becoming aware of his intention, extended 
 towards him my cheeks, still covered with tears, and there he 
 brought to light again that colour which Hell had covered 
 over." 
 
 He, moreover, girded Dante with a rush according to 
 the instructions of Cato. This was done upon the lonely 
 shore, which never yet beheld a man sail upon its waters and 
 afterwards return. 
 
 Venimmo poi in sul lito deserto, 
 
 Che mai non vide navicar sue acque 
 Uomo, che di tornar sia poscia esperto. 
 
 When Virgil plucked the rush, which is here the symbol of 
 Divine grace, another grew up at once in its place, to show 
 that the supply is inexhaustible. 
 
 It is well to bear in mind here that Purgatory, according 
 to the poet, is divided into three principal parts. The first is 
 the ante-purgatorium,^ which is a rocky slope at the foot of 
 the mountain. It is described in the nine first cantos. The 
 second part is purgatory proper, which ascends in seven ranges 
 or galleries around the mountain. The ridges become smaller 
 according as the summit is approached, and the pain varies 
 according to the sins that are punished. The description of 
 this part extends from the ninth to the twenty-seventh canto. 
 The third part is the terrestrial paradise, and is disposed of 
 in six cantos at the end. 
 
 THE FOOT OF THE MOUNTAIN. 
 
 At the beginning of the second canto Dante explains 
 the geographical position of his surroundings, following 
 throughout the Ptolomaic system of astronomy, as it was 
 
 1 The ante-purgatory corresponds in some respects to the vestibule of the 
 Inferno. It detains the souls that delayed their conversion till the end. It is 
 only after a long sojourn here that they are allowed to begin the ascent of the 
 mountain of purification. 
 
PURGATORY. 143 
 
 expounded in the works of Orosius, Brunette Latini and 
 Elfraganus.^ 
 
 It was sunset at Jerusalem : it was therefore sunrise at the 
 Mountain of Purgatory, for these two were at opposite poles. 
 As the sun advanced on his south-westward course in the con- 
 stellation of Aries, night, circling in the opposite direction, 
 was coming forth from the Ganges with the Balances, which 
 she abandons after the autumnal equinox. (Libra being then 
 in the sun ceases to be within the range of night.) The cheeks 
 of Aurora, from having been white and vermilion at various 
 stages of the morning, now assume an orange tint. In other 
 words, the morning was advancing into full day. 
 
 " And lo ! just as the planet Mars, at the hour when 
 morning is at hand, grows fiery red through the thick vapours 
 ■down in the west over the ocean floor, a light coming over the 
 sea with so swift a motion that no flight of bird could rival its 
 speed. Whilst I turned away my gaze to ask what this might 
 be, I saw on looking round again that it had increased in 
 brilliancy and size, so much nearer to us had the rapidity of 
 its motion brought it. Then I saw, on either side projecting, 
 something white, I knew not what, and when it became more 
 distinct, something also white beneath. My master uttered 
 not a word, until the white objects first mentioned appeared as 
 wings. Then, as soon as he recognised the sacred pilot, he 
 cried out, 'See, see that thou bend thy knee. Behold the 
 angel of God ! Fold thy hands ! Henceforward thou shalt 
 see similar officials '." ^ 
 
 Then Virgil calls Dante's attention to the angel's power 
 and command of the elements : — 
 
 " ' See,' he says, ' how he scorns all human instruments, so 
 that he seeks not oars nor sails other than his wings to propel 
 
 ' Should any one experience a difficulty in understanding the scientific part 
 of this second canto, we would refer him to the excellent work entitled 
 " Readings on the ' Purgatorio ' of Dante," by the Hon. William Warren Vernon, 
 M.A., vol. i., pp. 26-28. Mr. Vernon supplies diagrams and maps, which make 
 the scientific terms quite plain. ^ " Purgatorio," canto ii. 
 
144 PURGATORY. 
 
 the vessel between shores so far apart ! See how he holds 
 them pointed up towards heaven, beating the air with these 
 everlasting pinions, which, unlike all mortal plumage, undergo 
 no change.' " ^ 
 
 And then, he tells us, as the bird of God came nearer, the 
 more radiant he appeared ; and he approached the shore with 
 a small vessel, swift and so light that the water held it not. 
 The heavenly pilot stood on the poop, whilst upwards of a 
 hundred souls sat within his bark. They all sang — 
 
 In exitu Israel de Egypto, 
 
 until the psalm was finished, and then the angel dismissed 
 them with the sign of the Cross, and returned as swiftly as 
 he had come. 
 
 Their new abode is for the souls a land of wonder, so much 
 so that they ask the way from Virgil and his companion. 
 Amongst the band of trembling shades Dante recognises that 
 of his old friend Casella the musician. He advances to em- 
 brace him, but is surprised when his outstretched arms pass 
 through the shade and fall in upon his breast, having no 
 corporeal substance to rest upon. Casella informs him how 
 he took advantage of the great jubilee of Boniface VIII., and 
 obtained pardon of his sins with many others. The poet, re- 
 joicing in his friend's security, asks him to repeat one of the 
 songs which used to give his acquaintances so much pleasure 
 upon earth. Then the musician began : — 
 
 Amor che nella mente mi ragiona — 
 
 one of Dante's canzoni preserved in the " Convito " — and 
 sang it so sweetly that the melody long resounded in the 
 ears and in the heart of the poet. Even Virgil and the other 
 
 ' Vedi che sdegna gli aigomenti umani, 
 Si che remo non vuol, ne altro velo 
 Che I'ale sue, tia lit! si lontani. 
 Vedi come le ha diitte verso il cielo 
 Trattando I'aere con I'eteine penne 
 Che non si mutan come mortal pelo. 
 
PURGATORY. 145 
 
 shades around were captivated by the strain, and stood 
 listening to it in rapt attention, till the severe guardian 
 warned the souls to be off and get purged and purified of 
 their stains. Then, like a flock of pigeons frightened from the 
 cornfield, they fled towards the hillside, not knowing what 
 awaited them.^ 
 
 Now also the poet and his companion hasten onward. 
 During some delay occasioned by Dante's fatigue, Virgil 
 explains to him why his own form does not arrest the rays 
 of the sun which pass through it to the earth. One ray does 
 not hinder another. And yet this form, which has all the 
 appearance of a body, but for all that is only a shade, is 
 capable of suffering and of feeling cold and heat. Divine 
 power has made it of such a nature, but does not reveal to 
 mortals how it can be done. There is no advantage to be 
 gained in trying to penetrate these mysteries.^ We must 
 be satisfied with the fact which God has revealed. 
 
 Insensate he who thinks with mortal ken 
 To pierce Infinitude, which doth enfold 
 Three persons in one substance. Seek not then 
 
 O mortal race, for reasons — but believe 
 
 And be contented. For had all been seen 
 No need was there for Mary to conceive. 
 
 ' Come quando, cogliendo biada o loglio, 
 Gli colombi adunati alia pastura, 
 Queti senza mostrar 1' usato orgoglio, 
 
 Se cosa appare, ond' elli abbian paura, 
 Subitamente lasciano star 1' esca, 
 Perche assaliti son da maggior cura : 
 
 Cos! vid' io quella masnada fresca, 
 
 Lasciare '1 canto, e gire 'nver la costa. 
 Com' uom, che va, ne sa dove riesca ; 
 
 Ne la nostra partita fii men tosta. 
 
 " Purg.," canto ii. 
 
 ' Si viventis hominis incorporeus spiritus tenetur in corpore, cur non post 
 mortem, cum incorporeus sit spiritus, etiam corporeo igne teneatur ? Si incor- 
 poreus spiritus in hoc teneri potest quod vivificat, quare non poenaliter et ibi 
 teneatur abi mortificatur ? Teneri autem spiritum per ignem dicimus at in 
 tormento ignis sit videndo atque sentiendo. Ignem namque eo ipso patittu quo 
 videt; et quia concremari se aspicit concrematur. — S. Greg. Magni, "Dial.," 
 lib. iv. 
 
 10 
 
146 PURGATORY. 
 
 Men have ye known, who thus desired in vain, 
 
 And whose desires, that might at rest have been, 
 Now constitute a source of endless pain ; 
 
 Plato, the Stagerite ; and many more 
 
 I here allude to ; — then his head he bent 
 Was silent, and a troubled aspect wore.^ 
 
 Matto e chi spera che nostra ragione 
 
 Possa trascorrer la 'nfinita via 
 
 Che tiene una sustanzia in tre Persone. 
 State contenti, umana gente, al quia 
 
 Che se potuto aveste veder tutto 
 
 Mestier non era pjirtorir Maria. 
 E disiar vedeste senza frutto 
 
 Tai che sarebbe lor disio quetato 
 
 Ch' eternamente e dato lor per lutto ; 
 I' dico d' Aristotile e di Plato 
 
 E di molti altri : — e qui chino la froute 
 
 E piu non disse, e rimase turbato.^ 
 
 " Purg.," canto iii. 
 
 Raising his eyes the poet then sees to the right hand a 
 troop of spirits slowly advancing towards him. They are very 
 timid, and are frightened by Virgil's voice and by the appear- 
 ance of his companion. They are like a flock of sheep coming 
 out of the fold, in ones, and twos, and threes. They turn their 
 eyes and noses down, and what the first one does, the others 
 imitate.' 
 
 Amongst them is Manfred of Naples, who explains how 
 
 1 Wright's Translation. 
 
 ' Saint Thomas says : " Cum potentise animse sint accidentia animae, vel 
 
 totius compositi ex anima et corpore, ilia quae sunt in anima ut in subjecto, 
 
 corrupto corpore, in anima remanent; quae vero totius compositi sunt, non 
 
 remanent, corrupto corpore, nisi virtute ". — " Summa," Quaest. Ixxvii., art. viii. 
 
 ' Come le pecorelle escon del chiuso 
 
 Ad una, a due, a tre, e 1' altre stanno 
 Timidette atterrando 1' occhio e '1 muso, 
 E cio che fa la prima 1' altre fanno, 
 
 Addossandosi a lei, s' ella s' arresta, 
 Semplici e quete, e lo 'mperche non sanno : 
 Si vid' io muovere, a venir, la testa 
 Di quella mandria fortunata allotta, 
 Pudica in faccia e nell andare onesta. 
 
 " Purg.," canto iii. 
 
PURGATORY. 147 
 
 near he was to utter ruin. His crimes had, indeed, been awful,'- 
 he acknowledges, but the infinite goodness hath such wide 
 arms that it embraces whoever turns to it in penance. He 
 informs Dante of the fate of his body ; how it was taken from 
 its resting-place under the cairn at the bridge of Benevento, 
 with extinguished tapers, and now how its ashes are drenched 
 by the rain, or scattered by the winds along the Verde. He 
 also tells the effect upon him of the Pope's excommunica- 
 tion : — 
 
 " True it is, that whosoever dies in contumacy of Holy 
 Church, even though he repent at last, yet is obliged to remain 
 excluded from these precincts for a period of thirty times as 
 much as that in which he was in presumption." ^ His last 
 words to Dante are an urgent request that he might on return- 
 ing to the world ask his daughter Constance to pray for him. 
 For " on this side," he says, " great benefit is derived from the 
 prayers of those on that '' : — 
 
 Che qui per quei di la molto s' avanza.' 
 
 A considerable time must have been spent in this conver- 
 sation with Manfred, for Dante proceeds to explain how, when 
 any faculty of ours is engaged in some pursuit that keeps it 
 wholly occupied, the soul seems to concentrate all its power 
 on that faculty. And this, he says, refutes the error which 
 teaches " that one soul above another is enkindled in us ". 
 
 ' Orribil furon li peccati miei : 
 
 Ma La Bonta infinita ha si gran braccia, 
 Che prende cio che si rivolve a lei. 
 
 " Purg.," canto iii. 
 " Ver' e che quale in contumacia muore 
 
 Di Santa Chiesa, ancor ch' al fin si penta, 
 Star li convien da questa ripa in fuore 
 Per ogni tempo, ch' egli e stato, trenta. 
 In sua presunzion, se tal decreto 
 Piu corto per buon prieghi non diventa. 
 
 " Purg.," canto iii. 
 ^ " Purg.,'' canto iii. 
 
148 PURGATORY. 
 
 E questo e contra quello error che crede 
 Che' un anima sovr' altra in noi s' accende. 
 
 This error was taught by Plato, who held that there were in 
 us three souls, the vegetative in the liver, the sensitive in the 
 heart, and the intellectual in the brain. Aristotle rejects this 
 teaching ; and when it was revived by the Manichseans in 
 a modified form it was condemned by the eighth General 
 Council of the Church. When, therefore, the soul is intent 
 upon anything, the time passes without our being aware of 
 it. One faculty listens, and the other retains the exclusive 
 attention of the soul. One is fast bound, the other in a state 
 of activity. This was what happened during the interview 
 with Manfred; for now the sun had ascended fifty degrees, 
 and he was not aware of it, when the souls pointed out to 
 himself and his companion a narrow cleft in the rock, high up 
 on the mountain side, which had to be passed through if they 
 wished to ascend higher. Often does the villager block up 
 with a forkful of his thorns ^ a wider gap in a hedge when the 
 grapes are turning brown than was the entrance to the way 
 upwards. The ascent was so steep that the poet had to use 
 his hands and feet (symbol of the efforts needed in order to 
 climb to heaven). At last they reach a projecting ledge 
 where they sit down and rest. It is now approaching midday, 
 and as they look towards the east Dante is surprised to 
 observe that the sun is on his left hand and his shadow cast 
 to the right. Virgil explains to him that, Jerusalem and the 
 Mount of Purgatory being at antipodes to each other and 
 both having a common horizon whilst they are in opposite 
 hemispheres, the sun's course, which lies south of Jerusalem, 
 must lie north of Purgatory. If the sun were in Gemini instead 
 
 ' Maggiore aperta molte volte imprnna 
 Con una forcatella di sue spine, 
 L' uom della villa, quando 1' uva imbruna, 
 Cbe non era lo calle, onde saline 
 Lo Duca mio ed io appresso soli, 
 Come da noi la schiera si partine. 
 
PURGATORY. 149 
 
 of in Aries ^ he would see the zodiac fiery red, revolving closer 
 to the north, always supposing that it does not diverge from 
 the ecliptic. It follows that the rays of the sun fall in a dif- 
 ferent direction here from what they would in Florence. 
 Dante is satisfied with the explanation and is not unwilling 
 to enlarge upon it from his own store of astronomical learning. 
 
 As they move away from their resting-place they see almost 
 innumerable souls, some of them sitting with their elbows on 
 their knees and their faces in their hands, like Belacqua, the 
 sluggard ; others singing the Miserere verse by verse. 
 
 Virgil is dissatisfied at his companion's inclination to stay 
 and converse with these souls. He thinks he is beginning to 
 take pride in the attention he is attracting, and sharply rebukes 
 him, telling him to hasten onward and leave these people to 
 chatter as they would : — 
 
 Vien dietro a me e lascia dir le genti. 
 
 Dante cannot repress a smile at sight of his old acquaint- 
 ance, Belacqua, who used to make musical instruments in 
 Florence, and who was accustomed to sit outside his door, 
 in a posture of characteristic laziness.^ Here he is in his 
 old attitude ; and as he delayed his repentance till the last 
 moment, he is now doomed to wait here as long as he 
 had lived on earth before he can begin his purification, 
 unless he is released by the prayers of his friends. After 
 Belacqua, Dante recognises Jacopo del Cassero and Buonconte 
 da Montefeltro, who had died violent deaths, and had repented 
 at the last moment of their sins. Jacopo was treacherously 
 murdered by the minions of Azzo VHI. of Este, whose plans 
 
 ^ The northern signs of the zodiac were Aries, Taurus, Gemini, Cancer, Leo 
 and Virgo; the southern Libra, Scorpio, Sagittarius, Capricorn, Aquarius and 
 Pisces. 
 
 ^ " Abscondet piger manum suam sub ascella sua et laborat si ad os suum 
 earn converterit " (Prov. x. 24). 
 
 " Iste Belacqua fiiit optimus magister cithararum et leutorum et pigrissimus 
 homo in operibus mundi sicut in operibus animae." — " Glossator Cassinensis." 
 
150 PURGATORY. 
 
 he had thwarted ; and Buonconte was the son of the GhibelHne 
 general, Guido, whose acquaintance we have already made. 
 Then follows the pathetic tale of Pia de' Tolomei, which has 
 often been compared with that of Desdemona. It is no 
 wonder that Dante's countrymen should boast of this passage 
 as a wonderful example of his powers of conveying a whole 
 episode by a few miniature touches. This is the story as it 
 is related by Foscolo.^ 
 
 " Nello della Pietra had espoused a lady of noble family 
 of Sienna, named Madonna Pia. Her beauty was the admira- 
 tion of Tuscany, and excited in the heart of her husband a 
 jealousy which, exasperated by false reports and groundless 
 suspicions, at length drove him to the desperate resolution of 
 Othello. It is difficult to decide whether the lady was quite 
 innocent, but so Dante represents her. Her husband brought 
 her into the Maremma, which then, as now, was a district 
 destructive to health. He never told his unfortunate wife 
 the reason of her banishment. He did not deign to utter 
 complaint or accusation. He lived with her alone in cold 
 silence, without answering her questions or listening to her 
 remonstrances. He patiently waited till the pestilential air 
 should destroy her health. In a few months she died. Some 
 chroniclers, indeed, tell us that Nello used the dagger to 
 hasten her death. It is certain that he survived her, plunged 
 in sadness and perpetual silence. Dante had, in this incident, 
 all the materials of an ample and very poetical narrative. 
 But he bestows on it only four verses : — 
 
 Ricorditi di me ; che son la Pia ; 
 
 Sienna mi fe ; disfecemi Maremma 
 
 Salsi colui che innanellata pria 
 Disposata m' avea con la sua gemma. 
 
 " Yet these few words draw tears from those who know the 
 fate of this young woman. Her first desire to be recalled to 
 
 ^ " Edinburgh Review," Feb., 1818, p. 459. 
 
PURGATORY. 151 
 
 the remembrance of her friends on earth is very affecting. 
 Her modest request, her manner of naming herself and of 
 describing the author of her sufferings, without any allusion 
 to his crime, and merely by the pledge of faith and love 
 which attended their first union, are deeply pathetic. The 
 soft harmony of the last verses, full of gay and tender 
 remembrances, forms a most striking contrast with the ideas 
 of domestic unhappiness, of death and of cruelty, which must 
 rise in the reader's imagination." 
 
 As many of the spirits here urgently entreat that prayers 
 may be obtained of them on earth Dante reminds Virgil of 
 that line in the ^neid (vi., 375) where, addressing Palinurus, 
 he says : — 
 
 Desine fata Deum flecti speraie precando, 
 
 and inquires whether the prayers of the souls here are equally 
 unavailing : — 
 
 It seems, O guiding light, 
 That in a certain verse thou dost deny 
 That prayer may change the fate decreed by heaven. 
 Yet this is vi^hat these spirits seek to do. 
 Would then their hope be altogether vain ? 
 Or have I missed the true sense of thy words ? ' 
 
 Virgil replies that the cases are quite different. Palinurus was 
 in Hell, where the decrees of Providence can not be turned 
 aside by prayer. On all such questions he must consult 
 Beatrice (Theology), who is the lamp between divine truth 
 and the mere human intellect. He will see her up above, at 
 
 ' We take these lines of translation from "A Fragment " published in Dublin 
 in 1897. The " Fragment " gives us, in excellent pentameters, those passages 
 of the "Purgatorio" which were illustrated by Botticelli, the famous Florentine 
 painter of the fifteenth century, of whom Ruskin has said — that he was the only 
 painter of Italy who thoroughly felt and understood Dante ("Fors Clavig.," 
 xxii.). We did not know who was the author of this " Fragment " until his name 
 was revealed to us, in the " Catalogue of the Dublin National Library," as the 
 Right Rev. Mgr. MoUoy. Some years ago we received as souvenir of a visit to 
 Freiburg-in-Breisgau a similar fragment, explanatory of the illustrations of the 
 " Divine Comedy" by Luca Signorelli in the Cathedral of Orvieto. The author, 
 our good friend Dr. F. X. Kraus, one of the highest authorities in Europe on the 
 archaaology of art, is a confirmed lover of Dante, and possesses some fine editions 
 of the " Divina Commedia "- 
 
152 PURGATORY. 
 
 the summit of the mountain, rejoicing and blessed. At such 
 a prospect Dante is most eager to hasten upwards. 
 
 As the travellers were girding themselves for a final effort 
 on this first day's journey, Virgil directs his follower's atten- 
 tion to a spirit that sat apart from the others, alone. He 
 wore a lofty and disdainful look, and when they came near 
 him, he uttered not a word, but followed them with a calm 
 and dignified movement of the eyes like a lion when couch- 
 ing in repose. This was Sordello. As the experience of the 
 travellers with this important personage extends over three 
 cantos, it is well to give some short account of him here. 
 
 Sordello was a native of Mantua, Virgil's own birthplace. 
 At an early age he turned his mind to poetry and became a 
 professional "troubadour". His poems were much in the 
 same vein as those of our own Celtic bards. He, however, 
 wrote in three languages, in Provencal, French and Italian. 
 The specimens of his " Canzos " and " Sirventes " quoted by M. 
 Fauriel,^ are by no means exceptional productions, and his 
 celebrity seems due far more to his personal history than to 
 any great literary achievement. He was for some time 
 attached to the household of Richard, Count of St. Boniface, 
 who had married Cunizza, sister of the terrible Ezzelino da 
 Romano. He was a good deal mixed up in the jealousies and 
 quarrels of these two families, and in the general contentions 
 of the Montecchi and the Capulets of Verona, whose history 
 has been made familiar to us by Shakespeare. Later on he 
 joined the establishment of the brother of St. Louis, Charles of 
 Anjou, whose wife, Beatrix of Provence, had taken him under 
 her protection. Beyond these few details, the life of Sordello 
 is exceedingly obscure, so much so that many have questioned 
 whether the Sordello of Dante could possibly be the historical 
 personage here alluded to. Of this, however, we think there 
 cannot be any doubt, especially when allowance is made for 
 
 • " Dante et Les Origines de la Langue et de la Litt&ature Italiennes," vol. 
 i., pp. 523, 524. 
 
PURGATORY. 153 
 
 the liberty which Dante always claimed for the fancy of the 
 poet. There is nothing whatever in the life of Sordello, such 
 as we know it from history, to inspire the awe and reverence 
 which Dante felt in his presence in purgatory. He seems, 
 no doubt, to have commanded a certain amount of respect 
 amongst his contemporaries ; for we find Pope Clement IV. 
 writing to Charles of Anjou in the year 1266, reproaching him 
 for his treatment of "the son of the illustrious Jourdain de 
 risle, who languished in prison at Milan, and of Sordello, the 
 cavalier, who languished at Novara, and who deserved to be 
 freed for his own sake not less than for his services "} But if 
 we are to judge from what we know of his intrigues during 
 life, and from the samples of his poetry that have survived, it 
 is difficult to discover in what precisely the great merit con- 
 sisted that makes the poet treat him with such exceptional 
 ■deference. 
 
 However this may be, the greeting between the two Man- 
 tuans was very effusive ; and Sordello willingly placed himself 
 at the service of the strangers. At sight of the greeting of 
 the two shades, Dante bursts forth into a fierce invective 
 against the Emperor of Germany for having abandoned Italy, 
 the garden of the empire, which he should have bestridden 
 like a restive horse, putting the spurs into her sides, and against 
 the pastors of the Church who objected to this treatment of 
 their country ; and then, in bitter irony, he turns on his native 
 Florence, comparing it to Athens and Sparta for its wisdom 
 and moderation. 
 
 " But if thou rememberest well and canst see clear, thou 
 wilt see thyself like that sick woman who, restless with fever 
 or pain, can find no repose upon her bed of down, but by 
 twisting and turning about endeavours to find relief."^ 
 
 As night was coming on, and the darkness would not 
 allow them to proceed much farther, Sordello led them to the 
 spot most favourable for repose, where the mountain side made 
 
 ' Fauriel, " Dante et La Litterature," vol. i., p. 523. ^ " Purg.," canto vii. 
 
154 PURGATORY. 
 
 of itself a lap. Pure gold, refined silver, cochineal and ceruse- 
 white, Indian wood bright and clear, emerald fresh from being 
 split, would be surpassed by the herbage and the flowers that 
 were growing in that vale, as the lesser is vanquished by the 
 greater.^ Here were numbers of spirits on the grass and 
 amongst the flowers. They could not yet be seen from where 
 the poet stood, but could be distinctly heard chanting the 
 " Salve Regina ". As soon as the sun had set, Sordello 
 brought the poets to a vantage ground above the dell, where 
 the figures could be seen, and then pointed out to them the 
 principal personages that were there. They had all been 
 kings or princes who had delayed repentance. 
 
 There was Rudolph of Hapsburg, who had it in his power 
 to heal the wounds of Italy, but neglected that sacred duty. 
 There was Ottocar of Bohemia, who, whilst still in swaddling 
 clothes, was worth much more than his bearded sire, Wen- 
 ceslaus, who had passed his days in luxury and ease. Next 
 came Philippe Le Camus, king of France and son of Saint 
 Louis, who perished in flight and dishonoured the lily. There 
 also were Philippe III. and Henry of Navarre, the father-in- 
 law of the "Curse of France" (Philippe le Bel), Pedro III., 
 King of Aragon, and his son Alfonso. And alone by him- 
 self "sat the monarch of the simple life," Henry III. of 
 England, " fortunate in his successors ". 
 
 It was now the hour which brings yearning to the hearts 
 of seafarers, and moves them to tenderness on the day when 
 they have bid farewell to their friends, and which thrills 
 the pilgrim when he hears from afar the tolling of the bell, 
 which seems to weep, with its plaintive sound, for the day 
 
 ' Oro, ed argento fino, e cocco, e biacca, 
 
 Indico legno lucido e sereno, 
 
 Fresco smeraldo, in 1' ora che si fiacca, 
 Dair erba e dalli iior dentro a quel seno 
 
 Posti, ciascun saria di color vinto, 
 
 Come dal suo maggiore e vinto il meno. 
 Non avea pur natura ivi dipinto, 
 
 Ma di soavitst di mille odori 
 
 Vi facea un incognito indistinto. 
 
PURGATORY. 155 
 
 that is departing.^ At this moment, in the solemn stillness, 
 one of the spirits had risen from its seat and sought to attract 
 the poet's attention. As soon as it succeeded, it joined together 
 and lifted up its hands, lixing its gaze steadfastly towards the 
 east, as if it said to God, " I have no care for aught but Thee". 
 " Te Lucis Ante," St. Ambrose's hymn for the office of com- 
 pline, then issued so devoutly from its lips, and in so soft a 
 strain that Dante was lost in ecstasy, particularly when the 
 others sweetly and devoutly took up the song and followed 
 the first one to the end of the hymn. The prayer which they 
 thus address to heaven is intended to urge the divine mercy 
 to preserve them from the attacks of the evil one. In answer 
 to their supplication two angels come down with flaming^ 
 swords, broken at the ends. Green as the newly-opened 
 leaflets were their garments, which they trailed behind them, 
 beaten and fanned by wings that were equally green. They 
 took up their position a little above the poet ; and their coun- 
 tenances shone with such radiant light that the eyes of the 
 wayfarer were dazzled and bewildered. 
 
 When Sordello had presented the strangers to some of the 
 great spirits in the valley, to Nino of Gallura and Conrad 
 Malespina, he suddenly drew them aside and said : " Behold,, 
 there is our adversary ". On the side of the vale which opened 
 downwards a serpent appeared, the same, perhaps, which 
 tempted Eve and was the cause of such bitter woe to man. 
 Through the green grass the evil snake trailed cautiously 
 along, turning its head now and then upon its back, like a 
 beast that smooths its coat.^ But it quickly coils itself around 
 
 ' Era gia 1' ora, che volge '1 disio 
 
 A' naviganti, e' ntenerisce '1 cuore 
 Lo di ch' ban detto a' dolci amici addio : 
 E che lo nuovo peregrin d' amore 
 Funge, se ode squilla di lontano, 
 Che paia '1 giorno pianger, che si muore. 
 * St. Thomas says in his appendix to the " Summa " : — 
 " Animae in purgatorio non puniuntur per daemones, sed tamen possibile est 
 quod eoE ad loca poenarum deducant ; et etiam ipsi daemones, qui de poenis. 
 
156 PURGATORY. 
 
 and hurries off when it hears the noise of the green pinions 
 of the angels cleaving the air ; and then these heavenly- 
 messengers wheel round again and take their stations as 
 before. When this episode is ended, the company continue 
 their conversation. But Dante is now overcome with fatigue. 
 The night had advanced by a third of its duration. Already the 
 moon stood at the precipitous edge of the east, surrounded 
 by its pale aureola, near which the stars of the scorpion 
 glittered like so many gems. Under this peaceful atmosphere 
 the poet laid himself down to sleep. In this slumber he 
 ■dreams that he is bodily lifted from where he lay by an 
 «agle and transferred to the gate of the mountain of purifica- 
 tion properly so called. 
 
 " It was the hour when the swallow begins her melancholy 
 lays, perhaps still remembering her former misfortunes, and 
 when our minds, as it were, wandering out of the flesh, less 
 hampered by thoughts, almost appear to possess something 
 ■divine in their visions, methought I saw in a dream an eagle, 
 with feathers of gold and with widespread wings, poising for 
 a swoop ; and it seemed to me that the scene was enacted 
 where Ganymede abandoned his kith and kin and was caught 
 up and carried to Olympus." ^ 
 
 hominurn lastantur, eos comitantur, et assistunt purgandis, turn nt eorum poenis 
 satientur, turn ut in eorum exitu a corpore aliquid suum reperiant " (Quest, ii., 
 -ait. iii.). 
 
 The Master of the Sentences had said of the souls in Purgatory : " lUos habe- 
 Jjunt tortores in pcenis quos habuerunt incentores in culpa" (Sent. iv. dist. 47). 
 Dante, however, follows St. Thomas. 
 
 ' Neir ora che comincia i tristi lai 
 La rondinella presso alia mattina, 
 Forse a memoria de' suoi primi guai, 
 E che la mente nostra peregrina 
 
 Piu dalla caine, e men da' pensier presa. 
 AUe sue vision quasi e divina ; 
 In sogno mi parea veder sospesa 
 Un' aquila nel ciel con penne d' oro, 
 Con r ale aperte, ed a calare intesa ; 
 Ed essei mi parea la dove foro 
 Abbandonati i suoi da Ganimede, 
 Quando fu ratto al sommo concistoro. 
 
PURGATORY. 157 
 
 He compares his feelings on awaking to those of Achilles 
 when his mother, Thetis, fearing lest he might be slain at 
 the Trojan war, carried him away in his sleep from his tutor, 
 Chiron, and concealed him in female attire at the court of 
 Lycomedes, King of Scyros. Virgil tells him how in reality 
 St. Lucy (emblem of Divine grace) had come and transferred 
 him to the gate of the ascent, leaving behind Sordello and 
 the other gentle souls. 
 
 Three steps led up to the august portal of the mountain, 
 symbols of confession, contrition and satisfaction. The first 
 was of white and polished marble, shining so clearly that the 
 figure above was reflected in it as in a mirror. The second 
 was of rugged calcined stone, broken and cracked in several 
 places and of a darker hue than perse. The third was of 
 porphyry, but red as the blood that issues fresh from the vein. 
 On the uppermost step an angel kept guard. He held in his 
 hand a naked sword, and his radiant countenance dazzled 
 the eyes of Dante almost beyond endurance. Following the 
 instructions of Virgil, saying : " Ask in all humility that the 
 bolt may be unbarred," devoutly he threw himself at the feet 
 of the holy one and entreated him in mercy to open unto him. 
 But first three times he smote his breast. Then with the 
 point of his sword the angel traced seven times the letter P 
 upon his forehead, with the warning : " See that thou wash 
 these scars away when once thou art within the gate ". The 
 heavenly guardian then drew from under his dress of un- 
 assuming colour (typical here of the humility of the confessor 
 represented by the angel) two keys, one of silver and the 
 other of gold. The former represents the authority of the 
 confessor to remit sin, and the latter, the science and discern- 
 ment which he exercises in the individual application of that 
 authority. Both these, the angel tells them, are held from 
 Peter, with instructions to err rather in opening the gate than 
 in keeping it shut. Then he pushed open the holy portal 
 which was of adamantine rock. And when the swivels of the 
 
158 PURGATORY. 
 
 gate swung round, its hinges, which were made of metal strong 
 and resonant, roared more harshly and with shriller sound 
 than Tarpeia ^ herself when the good guardian, Metellus, was 
 taken from her. As soon as they entered the gate, they 
 heard a grand " Te Deum " sounding within, and celebrating 
 the joy of the angels over one sinner that repents. 
 
 THE CORNICES OF THE MOUNTAIN. 
 
 The First Cornice. 
 CANTOS X., XL, XII. 
 
 It is now, in this first cornice of purgatory, that the punish- 
 ment of the sinners properly begins. And as pride is the 
 foundation of all evil, it is punished here in the lowest circle. 
 In strong contrast with the pride of the sinners were the 
 subjects sculptured in white marble that ornamented the 
 walls and passages of this crowded court. The most famous 
 mythical and historical examples of humility are represented 
 there in " intaglios " or " bas reliefs " which not only excel the 
 skill of Polycletus, but even the beauties and perfections of 
 nature itself. 
 
 There was represented the Angel Gabriel announcing 
 to the Blessed Virgin that she was to be the mother of the 
 long-expected Messiah, whilst the timid and humble Virgin, 
 proclaiming her difficulties and her unworthiness, in life-like 
 posture, utters the ever-momentous words : " Ecce Ancilla 
 Domini ". Farther on was David dancing with all his might 
 before the Lord when the Ark of the Covenant was drawn by 
 kine from the house of Obededom the Gittite to the temple at 
 Jerusalem. The whole scene is so vividly engraven on the 
 marble that the poet imagined he could hear the songs of the 
 
 ^ Tunc rupes Tarpeia sonat, magnoque reclusus 
 Testatur stridore fores. — Lucan, " Phars.," iii. 
 
PURGATORY. 159 
 
 people walking in front of the chariot. There was a contest 
 between his senses of hearing and seeing, for the former said 
 " No ! they are not singing," whilst the latter said " Yes ! they 
 are singing," because " I could almost fancy I saw their 
 lips move". What a contrast the poet draws between the 
 humility of David and the pride of Queen Michol, who 
 despised him in her heart when she saw him leaping and 
 dancing before the Lord. She is represented on the opposite 
 wall, standing at the latticed window of a palace and gazing 
 down on the scene with a haughty and contemptuous look. 
 The next sculpture recalls an episode in the history of the 
 Emperor Trajan. A poor widow was represented clinging to 
 the bridle of the emperor's horse in an attitude of weeping and 
 sorrow.^ " Round about the whole place seemed to be trampled 
 and crowded with horsemen, and above the emperor's head the 
 eagles black on a field of gold were visibly moving in the 
 wind. The poor woman represented in the midst of the 
 throng seemed to be uttering the words : " My lord, avenge 
 me for my son who is slain, for whose loss my heart is burst- 
 ing ". And he seemed to be answering her with the words : 
 " Now only wait till I return ". And she, like one in whom 
 grief is Impatient, seemed to rejoin : " But, my lord, suppose 
 thou dost not return ? " He answered : " Whoever shall 
 occupy the position I do now will do it for thee ". And she : 
 " What proiit to thee will be the good deeds of another if thou 
 art mindless of thine own?" "Moved by these words," 
 writes Francesco da Buti, "the emperor alighted and did 
 justice, and consoled the widow, and then mounted his horse 
 and went to battle, and routed his enemies." 
 
 But Dante's attention was soon diverted from the beauties 
 of supreme art by the voice of Virgil saying to him : " Behold a 
 great multitude coming this way, but moving slowly ". " Now, 
 
 ' " Readings ftom the Purgatorio of Dante," by the Hon. William Warren 
 Vernon, vol. i., pp. 242, 243. 
 
160 PURGATORY. 
 
 reader," says the poet,^ " I do not wish that thou should'st be 
 discouraged or swerve from thy good purpose on hearing how 
 rigorously God exacts the payment of the debt. Do not dwell 
 too much upon the punishment. Think of what is to come after, 
 and that at worst it can only last till the great day of judgment." 
 The souls whom he now saw advance had scarcely the human 
 shape. The proud head that once held itself so haughtily erect 
 is humbled here. The bodies are bent down to the ground 
 under the pressure of the huge weights they have to carry. 
 Their knees strike against their breasts, so great is the load. 
 Some of them are like the caryatides that, in contracted attitudes 
 support a building or a column, or replace a corbel to keep 
 the roof or ceiling from falling in. So grievous was their pain 
 that even he who had most patience in his acts wept bitter tears 
 whilst he exclaimed, " More I cannot bear ! " The apostrophe 
 in which Dante here indulges seems addressed rather to himself 
 and to those who are still alive than to the poor souls in torment 
 before him : " O ye proud Christians," he exclaims, " wretched 
 and weak, who with mental eyes diseased still have confidence 
 in your backward steps ! Do ye not perceive that we are but 
 caterpillars, born to form the angelic butterfly which flies 
 without obstacle to the justice of God ? Whence comes it 
 that your minds soar thus on high when in reality you are but 
 defective insects or worms whose organism is incomplete ? " * 
 
 ^ Non vo' pero, lettor, che tu ti smaghi 
 Di buon proponimento, per udire, 
 Come Dio vuol, che '1 debito si paghi, 
 Non attender la forma del martire : 
 Pensa la succession : pensa ch' a peggio, 
 Oltre la gran sentenzia non puo ire. 
 ^ O superb! Cristian, miseri e lassi 
 Che della vista della mente infermi 
 Fidanza avete ne' ritrosi passi ; 
 Non v' accorgete voi, che noi siam vermi 
 Nati a formar I'angelica faifalla 
 Che vola alia giustizia senza schermi ? 
 Di che I'animo vostro in alto galla, 
 Poi siete quasi entomata in difetto 
 Si come verme in cui formazion falla ? 
 
PURGATORY. 161 
 
 Nevertheless, the souls thus heavily laden are not prevented 
 from indulging in an act of homage and of prayer to the Creator 
 and Father towards whom they tend. Their prayer is a 
 beautiful paraphrase of the " Our Father," which resounds in 
 a sweet but plaintive melody throughout the passages and 
 recesses of the mountain. 
 
 " O, Our Father Who art in heaven, not that Thou art 
 circumscribed or confined within Thy realm of bliss, but 
 because Thou bearest most love to the first effects of Thy 
 power which are there above. 
 
 " Blessed be Thy name and Thine Omnipotence by every 
 creature, as it is meet to render thanks to Thy Sovereign 
 wisdom ! 
 
 " May the peace of Thy kingdom come to us, for we, 
 by any efforts of our own, are incapable of reaching it, unless 
 it comes. 
 
 " As the angels who sing Hosanna make the sacrifice of 
 their will to Thee : thus may men make the sacrifice of 
 theirs. 
 
 " Give us this day that daily Manna without which, in 
 this rough desert, he goes backward who strives most to 
 advance. 
 
 " And as we forgive to each one the evil we have endured 
 from them, do Thou benignantly pardon us and regard not 
 what we deserve. 
 
 "Our virtue, which is easily overcome, put not Thou to 
 the test against the ancient adversary, but deliver us from 
 him who so assails us. 
 
 " This last petition, O dear Lord, is not made for ourselves, 
 who need it not, but for those who remain on earth behind 
 us." 
 
 " And thus," he continues, " these souls praying for a 
 favourable journey for themselves and us went round and 
 round carrying burdens proportioned to their sins," and he 
 adds : — 
 
 11 
 
162 PURGATORY. 
 
 " If there they ever offer prayers for us, what should not be 
 said and done for them on this side of the grave by those 
 who have a good foundation to their will ? ^ 
 
 " Surely we should aid them to wash out the stains which 
 they contracted during life, that pure and bright they may 
 ascend to the star-lit spheres. 
 
 "Ah! may justice and mercy soon deliver you, so that 
 you may lift your wings and fly to your happy place of 
 rest." 
 
 Amongst the souls that now accompanied the travellers 
 there was one who related his history to Dante. It was 
 Humbert, the son of Gulielmo Aldobrandeschi, a Tuscan lord 
 and soldier. 
 
 " The ancient blood and glorious exploits of my an- 
 cestors," he says, " made me so arrogant that, forgetting the 
 common mother, I held all men in such contempt that I died 
 of it, as the Siennese know well, and every infant capable of 
 speech in the Campagnatico. I am Humbert, and not alone 
 to myself does my pride do harm, but to my whole race which 
 it has drawn into misfortune. Hence I must bear this burden 
 for it here amongst the dead until God is satisfied, as I did 
 it not amongst the living." 
 
 Whilst conversing with this proud scion of a noble house, 
 Dante was obliged to stoop very low in order to catch the 
 words of his companion, and whilst thus stooped he was 
 accosted by another soul who caught a glimpse of his coun- 
 tenance and recognised him at once. This was Oderigi d' 
 Agobbio, a famous miniature painter, whom Dante had known 
 in Bologna, and whom now, in answer to his call, he addresses 
 in the words : — 
 
 " O ! art not thou Oderigi, the pride of Agobbio, and the 
 honour of that art which is called in Paris illuminating ? " 
 
 " Brother,'' he replied, " the leaves that are adorned by 
 
 ^ Sanctifying grace. 
 
PURGATORY. l63 
 
 Franco Bolognese are more delightful now than mine. To- 
 day he has all the honour and I only a part. 
 
 " Assuredly when I lived I would not have been so 
 courteous, on account of the great desire to excel on which 
 my heart was intent. 
 
 "It is here the penalty is paid for such pride, and even 
 here I should not be had not I, whilst still free to sin, turned 
 towards God. 
 
 " O vain glory of human genius ! how short a time doth 
 the verdure last upon thy summit, unless, indeed, barbarous 
 times should follow. 
 
 " Cimabue thought once that he held the field in painting, 
 and now Giotto has the cry, so that the fame of the other is 
 obscured. 
 
 " In like manner one of the Guidos has taken from the 
 other the glory of our tongue, and possibly he is born who 
 will yet chase them both from the nest.^ 
 
 " Earthly fame is but a breath of wind that blows now on 
 
 ^ Oderigi was a native of Agobbio, or Gubbio, as it is now called, a little 
 town in the Duchy of Urbino, in Umbria. Vasari tells us that he was a friend 
 of Giotto and that he and Franco of Bologna were employed by Boniface VIII. 
 to illuminate books for the Papal library. Two missals ascribed to Oderigi are 
 preserved in the library of the Canons of St. Peter's. We have no more informa- 
 tion about Franco than about Oderigi. Cimabue and Giotto are known to all 
 who know anything of the history of painting. Cimabue was a native of Florence 
 (1240- 1300) who learned the art of painting &om two Greeks who were decorating 
 the Cathedral of Florence. He was the first to discover the talent of Giotto, a 
 poor shepherd boy of the Valdisieve, whom he found one day drawing on the 
 rocks some objects in his neighbourhood. He was so struck by the skill of the 
 youth that he took him away and educated him in his own house. Giotto soon 
 excelled his master and is justly regarded as the father of modern painting. He 
 worked in all parts of Italy, in Padua, in Florence, in Rome, at Assisi. He 
 painted the portraits of Dante, Brunetto, Latini and Corso Donati in the palace 
 of the podesta at Florence. Vasari says that he was of Dante " coetaneo ed 
 amico suo grandissimo ". He died in 1336. The two Guidos mentioned are 
 usually set down as Guido Guinicelli and Guido Cavalcanti. Poletto and others 
 are of opinon, however, that the poet intends Guido dalle Colonne of the Sicilian 
 school, who was surpassed by Guido Guinicelli of Bologna. — See " Dante and 
 his Circle," by D. G. Rossetti, passim. 
 
164 PURGATORY. 
 
 one side, now on another, and changes its name merely be- 
 cause it changes sides. 
 
 " Ere a thousand years have passed, which, as compared 
 with eternity, is a shorter space than the twinkling of an eye 
 when compared with the revolutions of that sphere of heaven 
 which goes round the slowest, 
 
 "What greater fame shalt thou have by shedding thy 
 mortal body in old age rather than if thou hadst died ere thou 
 hadst ceased the prattle of childhood ? 
 
 " At one time all Tuscany resounded with the name of 
 him who is now in front of me, whereas at present it is scarcely 
 whispered even at Sienna, 
 
 " Where he was lord when the rage was vanquished of 
 Florence, as proud then as she is prostitute to-day. 
 
 "Your renown is like the hue of grass which comes and 
 goes, and the sun that discolours it is the same that drew 
 it forth fresh from the earth." ^ 
 
 M. Ozanam ^ remarks that Dante places politics in Hell, 
 art in Purgatory, and theology in heaven. The observation 
 seems justified. For no sooner had the poet taken leave of 
 Oderigi, the painter, after having previously conversed at 
 length with Casella the musician and Sordello the poet, than 
 his guide calls attention once again to the specimens of art 
 with which the passages are decorated. This time they are 
 represented on the pavement beneath the feet of the wayfarers, 
 in order that the souls should have constantly under their 
 downcast eyes lessons of vanquished pride. 
 
 " I saw on one side him who was created more noble than 
 any other creature struck down like lightning through the 
 heavens.^ 
 
 ' "Quelle comparaison juste et melancolique ! Quel beaux langage et quels 
 vers ! Homere lui-meme n'est pas au-dessus de notre poete lorsque il compare 
 les generations des hommes aux generations des feuilles qui jonchent la terre 
 en automne." Ginguen^, " Histoire Litt^raire d'ltalie," vol. ii., p. 153. 
 
 2 Le Purgatoire de Dante," p. 195. 
 
 '"Videbam Satanam sicut fulgui de ccelo cadentem" (St. Luke x. 18). 
 
PURGATORY. 165 
 
 " On the other side I saw Briareus,^ pierced by the dart of 
 Jove, stretched on the earth in the chill of death. 
 
 " I saw Tymbraeus (Apollo), Pallas and Mars still armed 
 around their father, gazing on the scattered limbs of the giants. 
 
 " I saw Nimrod standing at the foot of his great work,^ as 
 one confounded, looking on the people who shared his pride 
 in the plain of Senaar. 
 
 " O Niobe, with what sad eyes I saw thee represented on 
 the pathway between thy seven and seven children slain. ^ 
 
 " O Saul, how thou didst appear to me fallen dead upon 
 thy sword on the mount of Gilboe, which has never since been 
 moistened by rain or dew.^ 
 
 " O foolish Arachne, I beheld thee already, half spider, 
 lying on the shreds of the work which in an evil hour was 
 woven by thee:^ 
 
 " O Roboam, thy likeness here does not appear to threaten, 
 but panic stricken a chariot bears thee off even before any one 
 gives chase.^ 
 
 ^ Biiaieus was one of the Titans who attempted to wrest the kingdom of 
 Olympus from Jupiter. He was destroyed by the king of heaven, assisted by 
 Apollo, Minerva and Mars. Apollo was surnamed ©vfi^poios from Thymbra, a 
 city in the Troad, where he had a temple. 
 
 ^The Tower of Babel, see Gen. chap, x., xi. 
 
 ' Niobe was the daughter of Tantalus and wife of Amphion, king of Thrace. 
 She, having seven sons and seven daughters, presumed to mock Latona wife of 
 Jupiter, who had only two, Apollo and Diana. They, to avenge their mother, 
 destroyed Niobe's fourteen children with their arrows. Apollo killed the sons 
 and Diana the daughters. Niobe herself was turned into stone. 
 
 ^ Tell it not in Gath, publish it not in the streets of Ascalon ; lest the 
 daughters of the Philistines rejoice, lest the daughters of the uncircumcised 
 triumph. Ye mountains of Gilboe, let neither dew nor rain come upon you, 
 neither be they fields of first fruits ; for there was cast away the shield of the 
 valiant, the shield of Saul as though he had not been anointed with oil. 
 " Lament of David," 2 Kings i. 20-21. 
 
 ' Arachne was a weaver in the city of Colophon in Asia Minor. She 
 challenged Minerva to a trial of skill, and when she disparaged the work of her 
 rival, Minerva struck her on the head with her shuttle and changed her into a 
 spider. 
 
 ^ The history of Roboam who, after the death of Solomon, took the advice of 
 the young men of his kingdom as against that of the old, is related in the third 
 " Book of Kings," chap. xii. 
 
166 PURGATORY. 
 
 "The hard pavement also showed how costly Alcmeon 
 made the fatal ornament appear to his mother.^ 
 
 " It showed how the sons of Sennacherib fell upon their 
 father in the temple, and when he was dead how they left him 
 there.^ 
 
 " It showed the fall and the cruel butchery which Tamyris 
 had made when she said to Cyrus : ' Thou hast thirsted for 
 blood and with blood I fill thee'? 
 
 " It showed how the Assyrians fled in rout after the death 
 of Holophernes, and what remained of the slaughter. 
 
 " I saw Troy in ashes and in ruins. O lUium ! how base 
 and abject did the image show thee that was there depicted ! 
 
 " What master was there ever with the brush or pencil that 
 could trace the shadows and the poses which here would 
 astonish the most subtile genius ? 
 
 " The dead appeared really dead and the living still alive. 
 He who saw the reality did not see it better than I did, whilst 
 I walked along with my eyes cast down." 
 
 But Virgil now calls him away from his long meditation. 
 Every such call and advice of the guide will be found to be 
 full of spiritual meaning. We cannot, unfortunately, dwell 
 in such a sketch as this on the innumerable details and mystic 
 
 ^ The ill-fated ornament was a golden necklace made by Vulcan, which had 
 the power of rendering unhappy whoever possessed it. It was given by Argia, 
 wife of Polynices, to Eriphile, in order to induce her to reveal the hiding-place of 
 her husband, Amphiaraiis, the soothsayer, who had concealed himself to avoid 
 taking part in the war of the " Seven against Thebes "- Alcmeon, to avenge his 
 father, slew Eriphile as a reward for her treachery. 
 
 2 The history of Sennacherib is related in the Book of Isaiah, where we are 
 told that he was slain in the temple by his two sons, Adramelech and Sarasar, 
 who fled at once to the land of Ararat (Isa. xxxvii. 38). 
 
 5 Tamyris, Queen of the Messagetae, after having conquered Cyrus in a 
 battle, sent, according to Herodotus (i. c. 205) for the body of the king, and, 
 when it was found, she had the head cut off and, having filled a skin with human 
 blood, she dipped the head of her enemy in the gore, saying at the same time : 
 " I live and have conquered thee in battle, and yet by thee I am ruined. For 
 thou tookest away my son with guile, but thus I carry out my threat. Blood 
 thou hast desired and with blood I fill thee.'' 
 
PURGATORY. J 67 
 
 senses with which the hnes are laden, particularly when the 
 travellers pass from one cornice to another. 
 
 For the coming of the angel who is to open the passage 
 to the second range Virgil prepares his companion : — 
 
 " Give to thy actions and thy countenance the grace of 
 reverence, so that he may be pleased to send us onward. 
 Remember that this day will never shine again." 
 
 " The beautiful creature came towards us clad in white 
 raiment, and his countenance shone with a tremulous light 
 like the star of morning." 
 
 " He opened out his arms, and then spread his wings, and 
 said : ' Come, here are the steps, and from this forward the 
 ascent is easy '. 
 
 " Few indeed are they who come in response to this invita- 
 tion. O human race, born to fly to the regions above, how is 
 it that so slight a breath of wind (fame) is sufficient to keep 
 you down ? 
 
 The first P is now removed from the forehead of Dante. 
 The strain of " Beati pauperes spiritu " is heard as they ascend 
 the stairs, in such a melody that no words can describe it ; and 
 while it is still resounding in the ears of the travellers they 
 pass on to the second circle. 
 
 "The poet," writes Ozanam,^ "has consecrated nearly 
 three cantos to the expiation of pride. He has employed 
 all the great examples of sacred and profane antiquity, all the 
 light of reason and of faith, to stigmatise this first sin, because 
 it was the original crime of the human race, and is at the very 
 foundation of our fallen nature. You have only to reflect on 
 the virtues of paganism to be convinced of this. You will 
 find men without ambition, without weakness of the flesh, but 
 you will find none without pride. It is also the dominant sin 
 of poets." 
 
 ^ " Le Purgatoire du Dante," p. 220. 
 
168 PURGATORY. 
 
 SECOND CORNICE. 
 CANTOS XII., XIII., XIV. 
 
 The second circle or cornice is described in two cantos, the 
 thirteenth and fourteenth. In it the sin of envy is punished, 
 and love, as Virgil explains, supplies the lashes to the whip. 
 There is no artistic decoration here. The rock is bare and 
 livid in colour, like envy itself The voices of angels that flit 
 about in the air above are heard. Every word that comes 
 from them inculcates the duty of love. " Vinum non habent," 
 cries one as he passes, reminding the souls how the Blessed 
 Virgin at the Marriage Feast of Cana assisted those who 
 required her aid. " I am Orestes," came from another in his 
 flight, recalling the devotion which exposed the life of one 
 friend for another. " Love those who injure you," was the 
 theme of a third. 
 
 " Then," says the poet, " more than at first I opened my 
 eyes, and I saw shades covered with cloaks of the same colour 
 as the stone. 
 
 " And when we had advanced a little farther, I heard them 
 crying : ' Mary, pray for us ' ; ' St. Michael, St. Peter, and all 
 ye saints, pray for us '." 
 
 Then he tells us in detail how these poor souls were 
 punished. No words could fully describe their condition. 
 
 " Now," he says, " I do not believe there walks on earth 
 a man so hard-hearted as not to be touched with pity at 
 what I witnessed then. 
 
 " For when I came sufficiently near to distinguish their 
 movements, tears of bitter sorrow were drawn from my eyes. 
 
 " They seemed to be covered with coarse sackcloth, and 
 each one leant on the shoulder of the other, and they all were 
 sitting against the cliff". 
 
 " And as blind men who beg at the doors of the churches, 
 when each one inclines his head against the other to excite 
 
BURGATORY. 169 
 
 pity in the hearts of those that enter, by their appearance as 
 well as by their words, so did they sit. 
 
 " And as the sun does not reach the blind, in like manner 
 the light of heaven shines not for these shades. 
 
 " For an iron wire pierces their eyelids and sews them to- 
 gether, like those of the wild falcon who will not keep still." 
 
 Amongst the souls who suffered this dreadful torture was 
 Sapia of Sienna, " who took more pleasure in the misfortune 
 of others than in her own happiness," and who would not 
 have got the grace of conversion were it not for the holy 
 prayers of Pier Pettinagno, a poor hermit to whom she was 
 accustomed to give some alms during her lifetime. 
 
 A whole canto is devoted here to the envious personages 
 of a few Italian cities. They are not of much general interest, 
 and we can pass them by without much detriment to con- 
 tinuity.i 
 
 The setting sun now shot its rays directly on the counte- 
 nance of the wayfarer, but its radiance was soon surpassed by 
 that of some greater light which rapidly approached. It was 
 the angel who came to open for them the passage upwards. 
 As they made their exit another P was removed from the 
 poet's forehead. "Beati Misericordes " and "Rejoice thou 
 that conquerest" was sung by the souls who remained behind. 
 
 THIRD CORNICE. 
 
 CANTOS XV., XVI. 
 
 They are now in the third circle, the cornice of the angry. 
 The poet wishes to put forward here also examples of the virtue 
 opposed to the vice that is punished. But he always invents 
 
 ^ " On n'a rien invente contre les torts du Capital que Dante n'eut dej4 dit 
 et qu'on n'eut dit avant lui ; mais la superiorite du Dante est d'avoir connu le 
 remede et de I'avoir cherche non dans le materialisme, mais dans le spiritual- 
 isme, non dans les choses terrestres qui se partagent mais dans les biens im- 
 partageables." — Ozanam, " Le Purgatoire du Dante," p. 248. 
 
170 PURGATORY. 
 
 a different method of doing so. This time he has recourse to 
 the device of a vision. He first sees the Blessed Virgin, who, 
 in the gentle accents of a mother, asks Our Lord : " My Son ! 
 why hast thou acted so towards us ? Behold Thy father and I 
 were seeking Thee sorrowing ". There is no trace of anger or 
 bitterness in these words. A better example could not be 
 found of meekness and restraint. Following still his custom 
 of mixing the sacred and profane, his next example is that of 
 Pisistratus, whose wife desired to be avenged of an insult 
 offered to her daughter, but who is calmed by the moderation 
 of her husband. The third example is that of the Proto- 
 martyr, St. Stephen, who, when he was being stoned to death, 
 prayed to the Most High God in the midst of mortal pain 
 that He would forgive his persecutors. 
 
 The punishment inflicted on the angry consists in their 
 being enveloped here in a fog of the darkest smoke which 
 suffocates and blinds them. This chastisement is like most 
 of the others, symbolic of the sin. For as Benvenuto da Imola 
 remarks : " Smoke is produced by fire ; and anger is a kind of 
 fire, for it is the kindling of the blood round the heart. And 
 as there cannot be smoke without fire, so cannot anger exist 
 without producing obfuscation of the faculties."^ Reason is 
 the corrective of all disorders in the soul, but anger extinguishes 
 the light of reason and smothers it, as it were, in smoke. As 
 the travellers advanced through this dark cloud they heard 
 voices that seemed to be uttering a prayer for mercy to the 
 " Lamb of God " who taketh sins away. 
 
 lo sentiva voci e ciascuna pareva 
 Pregar per pace e per misericordia, 
 L' Agnel di Dio, che le peccata leva. 
 
 Pure Agnus Dei eran le loro esordia ; 
 Una parola in tutti era, ed un modo, 
 Si che parea tra essi ogni concordia. 
 
 1" Readings from the Purgatorio of Dante," by the Hon. W. W. Vernon, 
 vol. i., p. 410. 
 
PURGATORY. 171 
 
 The poet here enters into a prolonged conversation with 
 Marco Lombardo, a Venetian nobleman, who had recently 
 died. Marco laments the change in the times, the utter decay 
 of virtue, the worldliness and dishonesty that prevail on all 
 sides. He asks Dante to intercede on his behalf when he 
 reaches Paradise. This Dante willingly promises ; but he 
 wants to know what is the real cause of the change, whether 
 it is to be attributed to the influence of the heavenly bodies 
 or comes from man's own corrupt nature. Marco replies that 
 the world is blind and that it is clear that Dante comes from 
 it. You who live there, he says, ascribe everything to the 
 planets, as if they moved all things of necessity. If this were 
 true all free-will would disappear, and with it justice and 
 merit. The heavens do indeed give the first impulse, though 
 not always, as it sometimes comes from evil habit. Man, who 
 has the light of reason and revelation in addition to free-will, 
 ought to be able to resist the influence of the planets as well 
 as the impulses of a corrupted nature. It may, indeed, be 
 difficult and laborious, but it is possible if the will which is 
 free gets properly nourished with wisdom. Moreover, God, 
 to whom all are subject, rules the planets, and puts into the 
 minds of men something over which the planets have no influ- 
 ence. If men are not better it is entirely their own fault ; but 
 the chief responsibility for it rests with the shepherd " who 
 can chew the cud but not divide the hoof," or in other words 
 does not act according to the dictates of wisdom. The sword 
 is joined with the crozier : — 
 
 £ giunta la spada 
 Col pastorale, 
 
 that is the secret of all the mischief ; and that is the point at 
 which Dante has been aiming all along. If Pope Boniface 
 fiad taken Dante's advice things would, of course, have been 
 quite different. The Marco Lombardos have not all dis- 
 appeared yet. Even now that the Pope is a prisoner we hear 
 
172 PURGATORY. 
 
 as much as ever of the confusion of the crozier and the 
 sword. 
 
 The imagination of the poet is so vividly impressed by 
 the vs^ords of Marco, that he falls into a sort of reverie or 
 dream in which he sees pass in review before him three ex- 
 amples of the vice of anger, surpassing one another in the 
 degree of their wickedness. The first is that of Philomel, who 
 revenged the tyranny of Tereus, King of Thrace, by the mur- 
 der of Itylus, his son, whose body she and Procne her sister 
 served up to him in a banquet on the feast of Bacchus ; the 
 second is that of Aman, who had prepared a gibbet in his 
 house for the just Mardochai, and who was hanged upon it 
 himself ; ^ around him were Assuerus and Esther and his 
 intended victim Mardochai, who was always upright in word 
 and action ; the third is that of Amata, wife of King Latinus, 
 who hanged herself in anger and despair because she thought 
 Turnus,^ to whom her daughter Lavinia was betrothed, had 
 been slain. 
 
 But the angel now approaches to purify him of the sin of 
 anger and direct him to the following cornice : " Beati Pacifici," 
 " Blessed are the peaceful who are free from sinful anger," 
 resounds through the whole space as they pass out into the 
 •circle of the slothful. 
 
 FOURTH CORNICE. 
 
 CANTOS XVII., XVIII. 
 
 The second night was now drawing on. The stars were 
 already beginning to twinkle in the heavens. The poet was 
 overcome with the fatigue of an eventful day and lay down to 
 rest. Before sleep came on, however, he questioned Virgil as 
 to the inhabitants of this new circle. Virgil tells him that 
 they are the victims of " accidia ". He then enters into a long 
 
 1 Book of Esther, chap. vii. ^ " ^neid," Book xii. 
 
PURGATORY. 173 
 
 disquisition on the metaphysical nature of love, following the 
 scholastic teaching in his analysis of it. Love is implanted by 
 nature in every creature, but in man it is particularly a passion 
 of the will. It may suffer from defect or from excess or from 
 indifference. The effects of the first — pride, envy and anger — 
 are punished in the three circles we have already seen ; those 
 of the second — avarice, gluttony and lust — are chastised in 
 the three that are still before us ; and those of indifference or 
 sloth in the pursuit of the highest good are expiated in this 
 fourth or present circle. The first appetites in man are as 
 natural as the instinct to make honey which impels the bee ; 
 but nature has also given him another power to direct and 
 control the natural appetites, and the Creator has endowed 
 him with " free will," from which all merit and demerit 
 emanate. But again he tells Dante that if he wishes to know 
 the full truth about all these things, he must consult Beatrice, 
 who is here undoubtedly intended to represent theology, the 
 " scientia scientiarum," which contains the complete and final 
 explanation of all that concerns man on his journey to the 
 future world. ^ 
 
 Whilst listening to the explanations of his companion 
 Dante found it difficult to refrain from sleeping ; and now he 
 had actually begun to dream when he was suddenly aroused by 
 a crowd of souls that came hurrying on. As of old Ismenus 
 and Asopus saw the people rush along their banks at night to 
 invoke the aid of Bacchus for their vineyards,^ so did these 
 souls hasten, urged on by righteous love and rectified will. 
 As they go they recall examples of activity in carrying out 
 the dictates of reason and conscience — Mary hastening to the 
 mountains of Judsea to visit her cousin St. Elizabeth ; Caesar 
 to subdue Illerda makes for Marseilles, which he besieges, 
 
 ^ Ed egli a me : Quanto ragion qui vede, 
 Dir ti poss' io : da indi in la t' aspetta 
 Pure a Beatrice ; ch' e opra di fade. 
 * This example is taken from the poet Statius. — Theb., ix., 434. 
 
174 PURGATORY. 
 
 and hastens thence to Spain. One of these souls on his 
 onward course tells Dante that he was Abbot of St. Zeno at 
 Verona. He ruled his monastery well, but for a little sloth, 
 which he expiates now, and he complains of his successor the 
 present Abbot Giuseppe, an illegitimate son of Alberto della 
 Scala, who was forced by his father on the monks. He can- 
 not stay, however, to converse any longer, and as the remain- 
 ing souls of the band pass on, two of them repeat historical 
 examples of the baneful effects of sloth : the first is that of 
 the Israelites who came out of the land of Egypt, passed the 
 Red Sea, but did not enter into the inheritance of Canaan, 
 on account of their negligence and apathy ; the second 
 refers to the companions of ^neas who remained in Sicily 
 with Acestes, and thus forfeited their share in the glorious 
 work of founding the Roman Empire. 
 
 Then follows another vision during the poet's sleep in 
 which a stammering and squint-eyed woman appears to him. 
 Her body was twisted ; her hands were mutilated ; her com- 
 plexion was livid. She is gradually transformed into a siren, 
 and tells that she it is who leads mariners astray, and who 
 drew Ulysses from his wandering path. Those who become 
 familiar with her can rarely extricate themselves from her 
 toils. She had scarcely done speaking when a holy lady 
 came upon the scene to confound her. She seized the other 
 one and tore her drapery, and exposed her hideous figure, 
 which horrified the poet so much that he started from his sleep. 
 
 The siren thus described is an allegorical figure of 
 the vices that are next to be met with. The stammering 
 tongue is indicative of avarice, which never speaks plainly 
 and openly, but in covert and deceitful language ; it likewise 
 indicates gluttony, because drunkenness thickens the speech 
 and makes its victim a liar, a flatterer, and a deceiver. The 
 squint eye is also indicative of avarice, because the miser is 
 blind to everything except the one object ; it also denotes 
 gluttony and luxury, because excess in this direction destroys 
 
PURGATORY. 175 
 
 the eyes bodily as well as mentally. The limbs of the siren 
 are twisted, because man never walks straight when seeking 
 to satisfy these cravings ; her hands are maimed, because the 
 miser never puts out his hand to give ; and the gluttonous and 
 luxurious never put their hands to any work, but spend their 
 lives in idleness and sloth. She is livid in complexion, 
 because all three — the miser, the glutton and the voluptuary — 
 have pallid faces, untinged by the bright hue of charity 
 or love. The forbidding figure and offensive smell that 
 startled the sleeper are emblematic of the filthy habits and 
 surroundings of the miser, and still more of the mire into 
 which the drunkard and voluptuary lapse. 
 
 The saintly lady who comes to unmask this enchantress 
 is the figure of reason, or of wisdom, or of the Church, possibly 
 a combination of all three. 
 
 In accents so sweet and merciful, that their like is never 
 heard in this world, another angel now summons them to 
 ascend to the fifth cornice, the circle of the avaricious. 
 
 With his plumes he removes another P. from the traveller's 
 forehead, chanting as they passed onward, " Beati qui lugent ". 
 
 FIFTH CORNICE. 
 
 CANTOS XIX., XXII. 
 
 Here a great number of souls lay prostrate on the ground. 
 " Adhaesit pavimento ^ anima mea," they repeat in the midst of 
 sighs so deep that their words could scarcely be distinguished. 
 Their pain is very severe. Amongst them the poet singles 
 out three with whom he held lengthened conversations. They 
 are Pope Adrian V., Hugh Capet, founder of the Capetian 
 dynasty in France,^ and the poet Statius. The first of the 
 
 1 " My soul cleaveth to the earth." 
 
 2 Not the first king of the line but his father. 
 
176 PURGATORY. 
 
 three tells how he felt the weight of responsibility and the 
 vanity of all human things when he reached the highest dignity 
 in the Church. 
 
 " For one month and a little more I felt how weighs the 
 great mantle on him who keeps it from the mire, so that all 
 other burdens seem but feathers. My conversion, alas ! was 
 delayed ; but when I became Roman Pastor, then I discovered 
 how false was life. I saw that the heart had no rest there, 
 nor in that life was any further advancement possible, where- 
 fore the desire of eternal life was enkindled in me. Up to 
 that time I was a wretched soul, severed from God, the prey 
 of avarice ; now, as thou seest, here I am punished for it.^ " 
 He then informs Dante why he is placed in that particular 
 posture. 
 
 " As our eyes were not uplifted on high, but fixed on 
 earthly things, so justice here merges them in the ground ; 
 and as avarice extinguished in us the love of all good, which 
 caused us to work in vain, so justice now confines us here in 
 restraint, bound fast and fettered hands and feet : and as long 
 as the just Lord wills to leave us, so long shall we remain 
 stretched and motionless." 
 
 The poet bent his knee in reverence for the high office of 
 the Pope, but the shade of the latter informs him that there 
 is no longer any reason for such demonstrations of respect. 
 He who was once a father is but a brother now. When he 
 
 1 Un mese e poco piu provai io come 
 
 Pesa il gran manto a chi dal fango il guarda ; 
 
 Che piuma sembran tutte 1' altre some. 
 La mia conversione, 0-me ! fu tarda, 
 
 Ma come fatta fui Roman Pastore 
 
 Cosi scopersi la vita bugiarda. 
 Vidi che li non si quettava il core 
 
 Ne piu salir poteasi in quella vita ; 
 
 Per che di questa in me s'accese amore 
 Fino a quel punto misera e partita 
 
 Da Dio anima fui, del tutto avara ; 
 
 Or, come vedi, qui ne son punita. 
 
 — " Purg.," xix., 105, 117. 
 
PURGATORY. 177 
 
 had answered a few of the poet's questions he asks to be left 
 alone to pursue his weeping and bring his cleansing to 
 perfection. 
 
 The traveller's interview with Hugh Capet follows. As 
 he passed away from Adrian he heard a soul groaning so 
 heavily in pain that he could with difficulty catch up some of 
 its words. " O sweet Mary," it said, " thou wast poor indeed, 
 as the stable in which thou deposited thy holy burden bears 
 testimony." Then it recalled other examples of disinterested- 
 ness and generosity ; that of the good Fabricius, who preferred 
 virtue with poverty to the possession of great wealth with 
 vice ; and that of St. Nicholas of Myra, of whom the story 
 was told that when a certain nobleman was reduced to such 
 extreme poverty that he was obliged to send his three beauti- 
 ful daughters out to beg for the support of the family, the 
 saint took a bfig of gold and when passing by the nobleman's 
 window threw it in. This was given as a dowry to the eldest 
 daughter, and the process was repeated by the saint till they 
 were all provided for. In answer to the poet's inquiries the 
 shade makes known its identity : — 
 
 " I was the root of that malignant tree which casts its evil 
 shadow over the whole Christian world, so that good fruit is 
 seldom gathered from it. I was called Hugh Capet there 
 below. From me are sprung the Philips and the Louises, by 
 whom in recent times France has been ruled. I was the son 
 of a butcher in Paris." 
 
 The poet here gives vent to his hatred of France and 
 of the French kings, to whom in truth he owed much of his 
 misfortune. He makes the founder of the dynasty the son 
 of a Parisian butcher ; but this origin is generally denied, and 
 by some it is interpreted as a butcher of men and not of 
 animals. Hugh inveighs against his descendants, taking them 
 in order, and laying special stress on the wickedness of Charles 
 of Anjou, brother of St. Louis, who took Ponthieu, Normandy 
 and Gascony, and then came to Italy, where he had the young 
 
178 PURGATORY. 
 
 Conradino beheaded, and where the rumour went that he had 
 poisoned St. Thomas of Aquin. Yet this first Charles was 
 but as a shadow in comparison with the second. 
 
 Tempo vegg'is non molto dopo ancoi, 
 Che tragge un altro Carlo fuor di Francia 
 Per far conoscer meglio e se e i suoi. 
 
 Senz' arme n'esce solo e con la lancia 
 
 Con la qual giostro Guida ; e quella ponta 
 Si che a Fiorenza fa scoppiar la pancia. 
 
 " I see a time not long after this which brings another 
 Charles forth from France to make him and his race still 
 better known. He comes with no other arms than the lance 
 that Judas tilted with and thrusts with it so as to rend the 
 vitals of Florence." 
 
 But all these crimes pale before that of the impious 
 Philippe le Bel. In the whole " Divine Comedy " there are 
 no words more scathing than those in which the poet denounces 
 the indignities to which Pope Boniface VIII. was subjected at 
 Anagni by Nogaret and Sciarra Colonna, by order of Philip, 
 in 1303. 
 
 Perche men paia il mal futuro a il fatto, 
 
 Veggio in Alagna entrar lo fiordaliso 
 
 E nel vicario suo Cristo esser catto. 
 Veggiolo un altra volta esser deriso ; 
 
 Veggio rinnovellar 1' aceto e il fele, 
 
 E tra vivi ladroni esser anciso. 
 Veggio il nuovo Pilato si crudele 
 
 Che cio nol sazia, ma senza decreto, 
 
 Porta nel tempio le cupide vele. 
 Signor mio, quando saro io lieto 
 
 A veder la vendetta che, nascosa, 
 
 Fa dolce 1' ira tua nel tuo segreto ? 
 
 " Purg.," XX. 
 
 "In order that thou shouldst be less shocked at these 
 future events, I now foretell them. I see the fleur-de-lys enter 
 Anagni, and Christ Himself taken captive in the person of His 
 Vicar. I see Him mocked again. Vinegar and gall are ap- 
 plied to His lips once more, and He is slain between two living 
 thieves. I see the new Pilate so full of cruelty that even this 
 
PURGATORY. 179 
 
 does not satisfy him, but without decree he covetously swoops 
 down upon the temple.^ O Lord ! when shall I be made 
 joyful on seeing that vengeance which yet concealed makes 
 Thine anger sweet within Thee." 
 
 Before they separate, Hugh Capet informs the poet that, 
 as during the day the souls are obliged to repeat the history 
 of those who despised the world's goods, so during the night 
 they are compelled to recall the most flagrant instances of 
 avarice in sacred and profane history. The first example 
 mentioned is that of Pygmalion,^ whose insatiable desire for 
 gold made him a traitor, a thief and a parricide. The next 
 was that of Midas, at whose story every one must laugh. ^ 
 They also think of the cupidity of the foolish Achan ; how he 
 stole the scarlet garment and the shekels of silver and the 
 wedge of gold, and hid them in his tent till he was discovered 
 by Joshua. 
 
 "And then," says the Scripture,^ "Joshua and all Israel 
 with him took Achan, the son of Zare, and the silver and gar- 
 ments and the golden rule, his sons also and his daughters, 
 his oxen and asses and sheep, the tent also and all the goods, 
 and brought them to the valley of Achor ; and all Israel 
 stoned him, and his goods were consumed by fire." 
 
 Another striking example of avarice and deceit that is 
 here remembered is that of Sapphira and her husband Ananias, 
 both of whom were stricken dead by St. Peter for having lied 
 to the Holy Ghost.^ 
 
 Heliodorus, who robbed the temple in the days of King 
 
 'In 13 14 Philip suppressed the Order of Templars on a series of trumped 
 up charges. He seized their property and put many of them to the torture, and 
 finally obtained from Pope Clement V. his consent to their complete extinction. 
 
 ^ Pygmalion was the brother of Dido, and through blind avarice murdered 
 her husband Sichaeus, King of Tyre, and drove his sister an exile to Carthage. 
 
 ^ Midas, King of Lydia, who tied the famous Gordian knot, and obtained 
 from Bacchus the faculty of turning everything he touched into gold. 
 
 " Joshua vii. 21-26. 
 
 » Acts of the Apostles, v. i-io. 
 
180 PURGATORY. 
 
 Seleucus, is also denounced, and the name of Polymnestor, 
 King of Thrace, who murdered for his treasure the young 
 and defenceless Poliodorus, son of Priam, who was committed 
 to his friendship and care during the siege of Troy, goes 
 round the mountain in infamy ; and at last the ironical cry is 
 heard, " O Crassus ! tell us, for thou knowest now, what 
 savour hath gold ". 
 
 Just as Hugh Capet was finishing his explanations the 
 whole mountain shook with great force. Delos did not quake 
 so violently before Latona came there to make her nest and 
 give birth to the two eyes of heaven (Apollo and Diana, or 
 the Sun and Moon). A loud cry followed this earthquake, 
 and the poet could catch the strain of the " Gloria in Excelsis 
 Deo," which exercised the same influence on him that the 
 same canticle produced upon the shepherds when it was sung 
 by the heavenly host at the birth of Our Lord. And whilst 
 he was wrapt in ecstasy listening to this heavenly strain, a 
 figure emerged from the crowd of souls and saluted the 
 travellers. This was Statius,^ the poet, the great imitator and 
 
 ^ Statius was born at Naples and not at Toulouse as asserted by Dante. 
 Statins himself mentions his Neapolitan birth in the " Sylvse," a work which was 
 not discovered till after Dante's death. He was poor and was obliged to main- 
 tain himself by writing. His chief works are the " Sylvae," the "Thebaid," and the 
 " Achilleid ". He also wrote a tragedy entitled " Agave ". The " Thebaid " and 
 " Achilleid" are imitations of Virgil's great epic, and though somewhat bombastic 
 in spirit, are written in pure and beautiful Latin. He died about a.d. 94. Dante 
 introduces him here into Purgatory on account of his great admiration for Virgil ; 
 but he takes the precaution, and, at the same time, the liberty, of making him a 
 christian. We know not whether there was any tradition in the time of Dante 
 to the effect that Statius had, in reality, become a convert to Christianity. 
 There, certainly, is no historical ground for the assertion. In any case Dante 
 was a poet, and not a historian, and he makes use to the full of the licence which 
 poets enjoy in matters of imagination. It was enough that Statius should have 
 been an admirer and imitator of Virgil, as shown by the lines of the " Thebaid," 
 811 et seq. : — 
 
 Jam te magnaniraus dicatur noscere Caesar, 
 Itala jam studio discit, memoratque juventus, 
 Vive, precor ; nee tu divinam i^neida tenta 
 Sed longe sequere, et vestigia semper adora. 
 
PURGATORY. 181 
 
 admirer of Virgil. Statius, after mutual salutations, relates his 
 history to the two poets. This noise which they had just 
 heard, and the chant of the "Gloria in Excelsis," always re- 
 sound when a soul is set at liberty from its thraldom in this 
 circle. Five hundred years and more he was compelled to 
 remain stretched in that dreadful position. It is only now 
 that he is released and allowed to ascend. Hence, as the 
 greater the thirst the more pleasure one feels in drinking, so 
 now the greater is his content for the long span he was obliged 
 to remain below. In response to Virgil he gives a full account 
 of his life on earth. 
 
 " In the days when Titus the Good, with the help of the 
 Sovereign King, avenged the wounds from which gushed the 
 blood sold by Judas, I was down on earth and bore the title 
 which gives most honoured fame and endures the longest.^ 
 
 " So sweet was the strain of my songs that though born in 
 Toulouse,^ Rome called me to herself and there I was thought 
 worthy to be crowned with myrtle. People down yonder still 
 call me Statius. I sang of Thebes and then of the great 
 Achilles ; but I fell beneath the second load.^ The sparks of 
 the divine flame, from which more than a thousand poets have 
 been illumined, were the seed which enkindled my ardour. I 
 speak of the " .^neid " which was to me a mother and a nurse 
 in poesy. Without it my works were not worth a drachma ; 
 and to have lived while Virgil walked on earth I would consent 
 to defer for a whole year my exit from bondage.'' 
 
 At this point Statius was interrupted by Dante and informed 
 that the shade with which he now conversed was no other than 
 that of Virgil himself. Nothing could exceed the transports of 
 delight and the feelings of respect for his model and master 
 which Statius manifested at this intelligence. But the angel 
 
 ^ Col nome, che piu dura e piu onora. 
 
 ^ Here Dante confounds Statius, author of the " Thebaid," with Statius 
 Surculus, who was born in Toulouse and taught rhetoric in Gaul. 
 ^ He died before he had finished the Achilleid. 
 
182 PURGATORY. 
 
 now appeared to open the way for them to the next circle. 
 " Beati qui esuriunt et sitiunt justitiam " was sung as they 
 departed. 
 
 As they ascended the stairway leading to the circle where 
 gluttony is punished, Virgil's first care was to inquire from 
 Statius how it was that he was detained so long for the crime 
 of avarice in the previous circle. Statius replies that it was not 
 for avarice but for the contrary vice of prodigality that he was 
 kept there so long. For in that circle of purgatory, as in the 
 fourth circle of hell,^ the avaricious and the prodigal are made 
 to keep company together, here to incite one another to repent- 
 ance, but below to embitter the punishment. Both misers and 
 prodigals have a sinful thirst for gold, the former to keep it and 
 the latter to spend. But Statius was impressed with Virgil's 
 own wise words : — 
 
 Quid non mortalia pectora cogis, 
 Auri sacra fames ? 
 
 and he repented of his hunger for gold and of his lavish expen- 
 diture. 
 
 Virgil next reminds him that when he sang in the "Thebaid," 
 of the two sad sons of Jocasta — Polynices and Eteocles — it did 
 not appear that he had yet the christian faith : — 
 
 " La fe senza la qual ben far non basta". 
 
 Statius replies that after God he owed his conversion to Virgil, 
 who foretold the great change that was about to take place 
 in the world. "The ages are beginning anew. Justice is 
 returning and man's primeval time ; and a new progeny 
 descends from heaven." ^ 
 
 1 " Inferno," canto vii. 
 
 ^ Ultima cumaei venit jam carminis aetas, 
 Magnus ab integro saeclorum nascitur erdo, 
 Jam redit et virgo, redeunt Saturnia regna 
 Jam nova progenies coelo diraittitur alto. 
 
 — " Ecloga," iv. 
 
PURGATORY. 183 
 
 " Through thee I was a poet, through thee a christian. 
 But that thou may'st the better discern the outline I will put 
 forth my hand to lay on the colours. The whole world was 
 already impregnated with the true belief sown by the mes- 
 sengers of the eternal kingdom, and thy words, which I 
 mentioned above, harmonised with the teaching of the new 
 preachers, so that I became accustomed to visit them fre- 
 quently. Afterwards they appeared to me so holy, that when 
 Domitian persecuted them, they never suffered without tears 
 from me. And while I remained on the other side I gave 
 them assistance, and their upright conduct made me despise 
 all other sects. And before I had in my poem led the Greeks 
 to the river of Thebes, I had received baptism : but through 
 fear concealed my belief, and still for a long time made pro- 
 fession of paganism : and this tepidity made me go round the 
 fourth circle for more than four centuries." 
 
 Statius now in turn inquires of Virgil what has become of 
 his old friends Terence, Cecilius, Plautus and Varro. Virgil 
 replies that they are all with him in the same part of Hell. 
 Perseus is also there, Euripides, Antiphon, Simonides, Agatho, 
 and many other Greeks whose brows were decked with laurel 
 during life. There also were the personages about whom 
 Statius had written, Antigone, Deiphile and Argia, Ismene, 
 Hypsipyle, Daphne, Thetis and Deidamia. 
 
 SIXTH CORNICE. 
 CANTOS XXII., XXIII., XXIV. 
 
 They had now emerged from the staircase, and turning to 
 the right they beheld a tree, graceful as a fir, but tapering 
 downwards instead of up. It was laden with apples sweet 
 and grateful to the smell. Near it a limpid stream fell from 
 the cliff and its spray was distributed over the foliage. Thus 
 refreshed, its appearance was most attractive and inviting. 
 
184 PURGATORY. 
 
 But from the heart of the tree a voice was heard crying out : 
 " Of this food you shall have none ". It also recalls again the 
 example of Mary asking for wine at the marriage feast of 
 Cana, not for herself, but in order to make the festivities 
 honourable and complete ; and it proclaims that the Roman 
 women of old were satisfied with water for their drink and that 
 Daniel despised food and acquired wisdom. 
 
 " The primal age," ^ it said, " was beautiful as gold. It 
 seasoned its acorns with hunger, and its streams were nectar 
 unto thirst. Honey and locusts were the nourishment that 
 fed the Baptist in the wilderness, and that is why he is so 
 glorious and great as the Gospel reveals him." 
 
 Soon, however, other voices were heard in the vicinity of 
 the tree. " Labia mea Domine " they sang devoutly. When 
 the poet caught sight of the singers he perceived that their eyes 
 were dark and cavernous, their faces pallid and emaciated, and 
 that their skin " took its outlines from the bones ". Erysichton 
 herself was never more withered and reduced. Their orbits 
 seemed like rings empty of their gems, and one could read 
 
 ^ Description borrowed from Ovid, " Met.," i., fab. iii. : — 
 Aurea prima sata est astas, quae, vindice nullo, 
 Sponte sua, sine lege, fide rectumque colebat. 
 
 Contentique cibis nullo cogente creatis, 
 Arbuteos foetus, montanaque fraga legebant, 
 Cornaque et in duris hserentia mora rubetis ; 
 Et quse deciderant patula Jovis arbore glandes. 
 Ver erat seternum ; placidique tepentibus auris 
 Mulcebant Zephyri natos sine semine flores. 
 Mox etiam fruges tellus inarata ferebat : 
 Nee renovatus ager gravidis canebat aristis. 
 Flumina jam lactis, jam flumina nectaris ibant; 
 Flavaque de viridi stillabant ilice mella. 
 
 Lo seed prirao, quant' oro, fu bello : 
 Fe' savorose con fame le ghiande, 
 E nettare con sete ogni ruscello. 
 
 Mele e locuste furon le vivande, 
 Che nudriro '1 Batista nel diserto : 
 Perch' egli e glorioso, e tanto grande, 
 
 Quanto per 1' Evangelio v' e aperto. 
 
PURGATORY. 185 
 
 O M O upon their countenances.^ There in the presence of 
 the delicious fruit and the fresh and limpid water these souls 
 hunger and thirst till they are wasted almost to nothing. 
 Amongst them Dante recognises Forese Donati, the brother 
 of Corso and Piccarda, who was one of his friends, and at 
 whose death he had wept. Forese tells him that he owes to 
 the prayers and virtues of Nella, his wife, to be admitted into 
 the region of expiation. In connection with his eulogy of 
 Nella he bitterly denounces the women of Florence for their 
 want of modesty in dress. Dante the poet was as true a 
 christian as he was a man of refined and dignified ideas re- 
 garding social proprieties, and he felt that the more women 
 respect themselves the more they are respected. 
 
 Forese also points out to Dante the attenuated shades of 
 several of his former acquaintances. There was Pope Martin 
 IV., a native of Tours, who expiates indulgence in the fresh 
 eels of Bolsena, cooked with exquisite wines, which he enjoyed 
 so much. There was Boniface, Archbishop of Ravenna, who 
 spent in rich banquets the revenues of his church. And there 
 was Bonagiunta of Lucca, a poet who did not understand the 
 secret of his art, but spent himself in silly efforts of the 
 imagination without any reference to what the mind and the 
 heart dictated. For these light effusions that were not balanced 
 by any weight of nature or truth the poet suffers now. Dante's 
 opinion of Lucca was not raised by his estimate of Bonagiunta ; 
 but he hears the shade murmur something about a certain 
 Gentucca who may possibly one day change his opinion of 
 the city. 
 
 Who was Gentucca ? A great many commentators think 
 it was a lady of that name who won Dante's affections 
 in 1 3 14. Others are of opinion that it simply meant the 
 common people. Forese foretells the fall of Corso Donati, 
 
 ' In the Middle Ages the face of a skeleton was represented by the figure 
 
186 PURGATORY. 
 
 head of the " Neri " of Florence, but is soon compelled to join 
 the shades that are hastening to their purification, whilst 
 Dante continues on his way with Virgil and Statius. His 
 description of the departure of the souls is expressed in a 
 beautiful simile. 
 
 "As cranes that winter along the Nile at one time will 
 form themselves into a flock, then will fly more hastily and 
 go in file, so did all the people that were there turn round 
 their heads and hurry on their steps, light both by reason of 
 their leanness and their will." ^ 
 
 A second tree now appears before the wayfarers. Its 
 luxuriant boughs are weighed down by its fruit ; and beneath 
 it were seen a crowd of people stretching out their hands and 
 crying for something, like little children that beg most eagerly. 
 Yet he to whom they pray makes no answer, but, to sharpen 
 the edge of their desire, holds up aloft the object which they 
 seek. 
 
 " Then they departed as if undeceived, and we come up 
 to the great tree which is deaf to so many prayers and 
 tears." 
 
 From this tree also a voice is heard. " Pass on," it says, 
 " without approaching. Higher up is the tree that was eaten 
 from by Eve, and this is but a plant that was reared from it." 
 It also recalls instances of gluttony, both fabulous and historic : 
 the intoxicated Centaurs that fought against Theseus and fell 
 an easy prey to him and the Lapithae ; and the Hebrews who 
 lay down upon their breasts to drink, and lapped the water like 
 dogs, for which reason they were cut off by Gideon when he 
 descended the hills towards Madian. 
 
 1 Come gli augei che vernan lungo il Nilo 
 Alcuna volta di lor fanno schiera, 
 Poi volan piu in fretta e vanno in filo ; 
 
 Cosi tutta la gente che li' era 
 Volgendo il viso, raffretto suo passo, 
 E per magrezza e per volar leggiera. 
 
 " Purg.," xxiv. 
 
PURGATORY. 187 
 
 But here again an angel appears to show the way to the 
 seventh and final circle. Never in a furnace did he see metals 
 or glass to glow so brightly as this heavenly official. He is so 
 dazzled by the radiance that he is obliged to cling on to his 
 companion like one completely blind. As he moved along 
 the sixth P was effaced from his forehead. 
 
 " And as a herald of the dawn ^ the breeze of May moves 
 onward and breathes a fragrance impregnated by the herbage 
 and the flowers, so did I feel a wind on the middle of my fore- 
 head and I felt distinctly the movement of the pinions that 
 made me aware of the odour of Ambrosia ; and I heard the 
 words : — 
 
 " ' Blessed are they whom so much grace doth illuminate 
 that the pleasures of the palate do not enkindle too much 
 desire within them, but hunger only within proper limits '." 
 
 On the ascent of the staircase he questions Virgil about the 
 metaphysical difficulties regarding perception and feeling in 
 the case of the souls separated from their bodies. Statius, at 
 Virgil's request, supplies the answer, which is to be found in 
 the twenty-fifth canto. There also will be found the explana- 
 tion of man's first and second birth, in the elucidation of which 
 Dante rejects as pantheistic the traducianism of Averroes, 
 and adopts the teaching of St. Thomas regarding the imme- 
 diate creation by God of each individual soul. 
 
 ^ E quale annunziatrice degli albori 
 
 L' aura di Maggio muovesi, ed olezza, 
 Tutta impregnata dall' erba e da' fiori, 
 Tal mi senti' un vento dar per mezza 
 La fronte : e ben senti' muover la piuma 
 Che fe' sentir d' ambrosia 1' orezza. 
 
188 PURGATORY. 
 
 SEVENTH CORNICE. 
 CANTOS XXV., XXVI., XXVII. 
 
 In the last circle at which they have now arrived, Dante 
 for the first time makes mention of material fire : and this is 
 found in the last circle of all, where the punishment is supposed 
 to be the lightest. The flames that issued from the mountain 
 were blown out towards the verge of the cornice, so that it 
 became next to impossible to pass, owing to the danger of 
 being burned on the one hand or of toppling over on the other. 
 From out the bosom of the great conflagration the hymn 
 " Summse Deus Clementiae " ^ was heard chanted by the souls. 
 
 " And I saw spirits advancing through the blaze, and I 
 divided my attention between them and my footsteps. When 
 they had finished their chant they cried out aloud, 'Virum 
 non Cognosce,' and then they began the hymn again in a low 
 voice." 
 
 Having recalled here the answer of the Blessed Virgin to 
 the angel Gabriel, they next revive the story which tells how 
 Diana stayed in the wood and drove from it Helice who had 
 felt the poison of Venus ; and then again they proclaim the 
 names of wives and husbands who were chaste according as 
 virtue and wedlock ordained. Dante's presence was soon 
 made apparent to the souls thus scorching, and some of them 
 came forward, but took care not to come farther than the 
 flames extended. Soon the poet saw them in thick battalions, 
 numerous as the ants that swarm in summer. They shout 
 
 1 This was an old hymn sung in Dante's time in the Matins of Saturday. 
 Some of the stanzas are very appropriate, as for instance : — 
 Fletus benigne suscipe ; 
 Ut corde puro sordium 
 Te perfruamur largius. 
 
 Lumbos jecurque morbidum 
 Flammis adure congruis, 
 Accincti ut artus excubent 
 Luxu remoto prossimo. 
 See Vernon's " Readings from the Purgatorio," vol. ii., p. 226. 
 
PURGATORY. 189 
 
 aloud the names of " Sodom and Gomorrah " and then they 
 depart in different companies. From those who were near 
 him Dante inquired who were all these people that were going 
 round amongst the flames ; and he compares their astonished 
 countenances when they heard his question to those of the 
 rustic mountaineers that look so stupidly bewildered when 
 they come for the first time to town. One of them answers, 
 however, that they are all so numerous that it would be utterly 
 impossible to tell him who they are. 
 
 It would also appear as if they were ashamed even here to 
 be made known. As far as the speaker was concerned, at all 
 events, he was willing to reveal his identity : " I am Guido 
 Guinicelli, and I am now being purified because I repented 
 deeply before my death ". 
 
 Dante compares his feelings under the circumstances to 
 those of the two sons of Hypsipile when their mother was 
 unjustly condemned to death by Lycurgus. He owed much 
 to Guido,^ who was his master in Italian poetry, and he now 
 assures him that those sweet lays of his will make even the ink 
 with which they were written dear to him as long as the 
 modern style endures. But as Oderigi d'Aggobbio on a 
 former occasion yielded the palm to Franco Bolognese, so 
 Guido now confesses that he himself has been far surpassed 
 by another shade who is there before him in the flames. In 
 songs of love and prose romances this one, Arnaldo Daniello,^ 
 
 ^ Guido Guinicelli was a native of Bologna. He was the first to raise the 
 character of the sonnets and light poetry of the early Italian period. He was 
 Dante's master, and taught him how to treat poetic subjects with dignity of style 
 and purity of expression. Nevertheless he was addicted to that peculiar kind of 
 poetry which endangers the soul, and for that predilection he must now be 
 purified. The specimens of his works which remain are of that character. 
 They deal exclusively with dangerous subjects, yet treat them with dignity and 
 purity. 
 
 ^Arnauld Daniel was a native of Ribeyrac in Perigord. He was, as 
 Petrarch calls him — 
 
 Gran maestro d' amor, ch' alia sua terra 
 
 Ancor fa onor col suo dir nuovo e bello. 
 
 Dante mentions him also in the " De Vulgari Eloquio," giving him great praise 
 
190 PURGATORY. 
 
 surpassed them all, and he leaves it to idiots to say that he 
 was excelled by the poetaster of Limoges, Giraud de Borneil. 
 Guinicelli winds up his speech with a fervent request that 
 Dante might repeat a paternoster on his behalf when he should 
 reach the cloister of which Christ was the abbot. 
 
 Or se tu hai si ampio privilegio 
 
 Che licito ti sia 1' andare al chiostro 
 
 Nel quale e Cristo abate del coUegio : 
 Fagli per me un dir di paternostro 
 
 Quanto bisogna a noi di questo mondo, 
 
 Dove poter peccar non e piu nostro. 
 
 " And then to make room for another he disappears in the 
 flames as a fish vanishes in the water and descends to the 
 bottom." 
 
 The poet advanced a little to greet the soul that was 
 pointed out to him by Guido, and that now freely began to 
 speak. Dante quotes him in the original proven§al : — 
 
 Tan m' abelis vostre cortes deman, 
 
 Qu' jeu no m' puesc ni m' vueil a vos cobrire 
 Jeu sui Arnaut, que plor e vai cantan ; 
 
 Con si tost vei la passada folor, 
 
 E vei jausen lo join qu' esper denan. 
 Ara us prec per aquella valor 
 
 Que us guida al som de la scalina, 
 
 Sovenha us a temps de ma dolor. 
 
 After this he disappeared in the fire.^ 
 
 The angel is now at hand to open the passage to the 
 travellers and allow them to ascend to the terrestrial paradise. 
 
 for the dignity with vifhich he treated the themes that were most popular in his 
 day. 
 
 Gerard of Borneil was in the opinion of Reynouard the most popular 
 " Trovatore " of his day. Indeed he enjoyed the title of " Maestro dei 
 Trovatori," which made Dante indignant. 
 
 ^ " Your courteous demand so pleases me that I neither can nor will hide 
 myself from you. I am Arnault, who weep and go singing; for when I see the 
 folly of my past life I can still look up with delight to the hopeful day before me. 
 Now I implore you by that power which guides you to the summit of the stairs, 
 remember to relieve my suffering." 
 
PURGATORY. 191 
 
 " Beati mundo corde " is the chant which he repeats. But he 
 tells them that no one can advance farther without passing" 
 through the fire. Dante quailed at the prospect. He recalled 
 to mind the torture of those who in the world below had 
 perished at the stake, and probably remembered that he him- 
 self had been condemned to be burned alive. " Igne com- 
 buratur sic quod moriatur." Virgil encourages him by saying 
 that this is the last wall that separates him from Beatrice or 
 happiness. The three then entered the fire, Virgil leading the 
 way, Dante coming next, and then Statius. The heat was so 
 intense that the poet professes he would have willingly cast 
 himself into molten glass to cool his burning members. His 
 courage is upheld, however, by a voice singing on the other 
 side, "Venite Benedicti Patris mei". And thus they safely 
 reached the stair of the ascent. Night had by this time fallen 
 again, and Dante felt the need of rest. He lay down on the 
 steps. He compares himself to a mountain goat protected 
 by two careful shepherds. In a dream or vision he sees ex- 
 amples of the active and contemplative life in Leah and 
 Rachel, the wives of Jacob. ^ 
 
 On awaking he is informed by Virgil that Beatrice (divine 
 science) is at hand and that he himself (human science) will 
 be no longer necessary. 
 
 " I have led thee thus far with intellect and art.^ Hence- 
 forth take thy pleasure for thy guide. Thou art now beyond 
 the steep paths, beyond the narrow ones. 
 
 1 "Istse duEe vitae significantes per duas uxores Jacob, activa quidem per 
 Liam, contemplativa vero per Rachelem." — St. Thomas, " Summa Theol.," ii. i, 
 qu. clxxxix., art. i. 
 
 ^ Tratto t' ho qui con ingegno e con arte : 
 Lo tuo piacere omai prendi per duce : 
 Fuor se' dell' erte vie, fuor se' dell' arte, 
 Vedi il Sole, che 'n fronte ti riluce : 
 Vedi r erbetta, i iiori, e gli arbucelli, 
 Che quella terra sal da se produce. 
 
 " Purg.," xxvii. 
 
192 PURGATORY. 
 
 " Behold there the sun which is shining on thy brow ; 
 behold the soft grass, the ilowers and the shrubs which yonder 
 region of itself produces. 
 
 " Until the beauteous eyes come to thee in joy which in 
 sorrow made me come to thine aid thou canst sit down or 
 walk amongst them. 
 
 " Expect no further speech or sign from me. Thy will is 
 free, upright and sound, and thou wouldst greatly err not to 
 act upon its impulses. I, therefore, crown and mitre thee lord 
 of thyself." 
 
 With these noble words Virgil practically takes leave of 
 Dante ; for although he accompanies him yet awhile, he speaks 
 no more, and when at last Beatrice comes upon the scene, 
 he silently disappears. 
 
 THE TERRESTRIAL PARADISE. 
 
 The wayfarers had now arrived at the summit of the 
 mountain where the terrestrial paradise was situated. Here 
 was the home of primitive innocence, the garden of delight in 
 which the parents of the human race were placed, and the 
 scene of that golden age of which poets had sung and of which 
 humanity had still some vague memory preserved in broken 
 remnants of tradition here and there throughout the world. 
 This garden was also the model of the christian church, in 
 which men are raised to a supernatural state and are helped 
 on to salvation. Two rivers gird it round, the Lethe and the 
 Eunoe. The former flows to the left, the latter to the right 
 Who drinks of Lethe loses at once all memory of sin ; 
 who drinks of Eunoe recalls all the good deeds performed 
 during life. As Dante strayed along the outer ,bank of Lethe, 
 enjoying the freshness and beauty of the scene, his attention 
 was soon attracted to the other side where a lady, all alone, 
 went singing and gathering flowers. Having accosted the 
 
PURGATORY. 193 
 
 poet, she explains to him how our first parents fell and 
 were driven out. She also informs him of the physical 
 conditions of the garden, and what it is that causes wind and 
 water in a region which is beyond the influence of the 
 atmosphere that envelops the earth. In the intervals of 
 conversation she sang the psalms " Delectasti " and " Beati 
 quorum tecta sunt peccata ". This lady was the Countess 
 Matilda of Tuscany, who made a grant of her estates to the 
 Holy See during the Pontificate of Gregory VII. She is 
 fitly introduced into that terrestrial paradise which was the 
 model and exemplar of the church to which she had been so 
 devoted during life, and which is now about to be vividly 
 symbolised by the poet in the chariot drawn by the Gryphon. 
 In the midst of her conversation with the poet she suddenly 
 stops and says : " My brother, look and listen ". The poet 
 obeys, and he sees the forest lighted up with extraordinary 
 brilliancy. He then heard a sweet melody borne on the air 
 in such a fashion as to make him bitterly reproach Eve who 
 deprived her whole race of such sounds and sights. But a 
 more wonderful scene was soon to astonish him. In order to 
 convey some idea of it he now ardently invokes the Muses 
 once again, and asks them, if he has ever suffered hunger and 
 cold or watched for their sake, to give force to his thoughts 
 as well as to his verses. 
 
 The melody had now grown into a chant in which he dis- 
 tinguished the word " Hosannah ". Seven golden candle- 
 sticks ^ appeared in the distance. They were large as trees, 
 and the flame from them shone bright as the moon at mid- 
 night. Behind them were their guides dressed in white (the 
 seven Sacraments).^ After these in procession came four-and- 
 twenty elders, two and two, all crowned with fleurs-de-lys. All 
 were singing : " Blessed art thou amongst the daughters of 
 
 ^ Symbols of the seven gifts of the Holy Ghost and of the seven Sacraments. 
 * Symbolising the twenty-four books of the Old Testament.'?'^ 
 
 13 
 
194 PURGATORY. 
 
 Adam, and blessed are thy beauties for evermore ". Next in 
 the procession came four living beings,^ each of them plumed 
 with six wings. The feathers were full of eyes that shone like 
 those of Argus of old. He can not enumerate all the beings 
 that were assembled here, but refers to Ezekiel, who depicted 
 them with whirlwind, cloud and fire. Now in the midst of 
 this band, supported by the Old and New Testaments, the poet 
 sees a chariot which typifies the Church or the Holy See with 
 which the true Church is ever identified. Rome, when honour- 
 ing Africanus or Augustus, never beheld a chariot so splendid. 
 The very sun itself would be poor beside it. This chariot is 
 drawn by a Gryphon, whose two-fold nature typifies our Lord. 
 His wings are of gold, and reach so high into the air that they 
 become lost to sight. Seven maidens accompany the car. It 
 is believed that they represent the three theological and four 
 cardinal or moral virtues. Faith, Hope and Charity ; Justice, 
 Prudence, Fortitude, Temperance. Two aged men come next. 
 They are believed to represent St. Peter and St. Paul, or possibly 
 St. Luke and St. Paul. Four more come after these. They 
 are clad in humble apparel ; and in the rear of all an aged 
 man alone, walking asleep, with his face inspired. These four 
 represent the authors of the other books of the New Testament, 
 and the aged solitary St. John the Evangelist and author of 
 the Apocalypse. 
 
 This army, after having deployed before the poet, was 
 brought suddenly to a halt by a clap of thunder, and the 
 whole procession turned round so as to face the chariot. One 
 of the elders sings in a sweet voice, " Veni Sponsa de Libano," 
 and the others joined him saying, " Benedictus qui venis," and 
 then, scattering flowers, " Manibus O date lilia plenis ". 
 
 Tutti dicean. Benedictus qui venis. 
 E fior gittando di sopra e d' intorno. 
 Manibus o date lilia plenis. 
 
 1 The four Evangelists. 
 
PURGATORY. 195 
 
 In the midst of this joyful ceremony a woman appears, 
 with a white veil flowing from her head and a crown of olive 
 on her brow. Her mantle was green and her dress red as the 
 living flame. Dante was not long in doubt as to who she 
 was. Her presence alone sufficed to make him conscious of 
 his early passion. 
 
 D'antico amor senti la gran potenza. 
 
 He turned to communicate his impressions to Virgil, but 
 Virgil was gone. The pleasures and delightful surroundings 
 of the terrestrial paradise did not prevent Dante from weeping 
 at the loss of the friend, the master and the guide, who had 
 led him safely through so many fearful passes. But the voice 
 of Beatrice soon sternly reminds him that he has other 
 reasons for weeping besides the departure of Virgil. " Dante,'' 
 she says, " though Virgil be gone, weep not, weep not, for soon 
 must thou weep for another scar." The poet then describes 
 the acts and words of Beatrice (theology) and her stern 
 severity towards him for having been unfaithful to her memory 
 in the world below. Whilst he is covered with confusion at 
 her reproaches, he is taken by Matilda, who is present still, and 
 plunged in the Lethe up to his lips. The heavenly choir sang 
 the " Asperges " as he tasted the waters that quench all 
 memory of sin, and the poet was led forward by the hand- 
 maidens of Beatrice, representing the cardinal and theological 
 virtues. They intercede with Beatrice for the forgiveness 
 of the poet, and she, yielding to their entreaties, throws off", 
 her veil, and reveals herself fully to his gaze. As she is 
 now absolutely identified with religion in the allegorical 
 treatment of the poet, we cannot be surprised at his exclama- 
 tion : — 
 
 " O splendour of living light eternal, who has ever grown 
 pale beneath the shadow of Parnassus, or drank of its fountain, 
 who would not feel his mind obscured were he to attempt to 
 describe thee as thou didst appear in that spot where with its 
 
196 PURGATORY. 
 
 harmonies the heaven overshadows thee, when thou didst dis- 
 close thyself in the open day ! " ^ 
 
 We are subsequently told how the chariot was set in motion 
 again, surrounded by its heavenly escort. Here the verses 
 and expressions become full of allegories. The poet's atten- 
 tion became fixed as that of Peter, James and John when they 
 witnessed the transfiguration of Our Lord. Amid joyous 
 songs the triumphal procession moves on towards the tree of 
 knowledge of good and evil, an emblem here of the empire 
 and the papacy. To this the car is attached. Beatrice 
 remains near it with the seven lights to guard it during the 
 absence of the Gryphon and the elders, who have now departed. 
 Then the poet witnesses many symbolic scenes. First he saw 
 an eagle swoop down on the chariot and dash against it so 
 that it reeled like a ship when beaten by the storm. Then he 
 saw a fox creep stealthily into the car. Then again the eagle 
 swooped down and left some of its feathers on the chariot ; 
 the earth opened and a dragon emerged from it and pierced 
 the chariot with its tail, and finally a prostitute and a giant 
 took their seats on the vehicle and befouled it with their 
 presence. By these various figures Dante sought to represent 
 in a striking way the different stages of the history of the 
 Church. The eagle in the first case represents the persecu- 
 tion of the Church by the emperors in the first centuries of 
 Christianity. The fox is the symbol of heresy, which became 
 rife as soon as physical persecution ceased. The feathers of 
 the eagle that rest upon the car represent the temporal 
 endowments of the Church and particularly the so-called 
 donation of Constantine, in the reality of which Dante evi- 
 
 ^ O isplendor di viva luce eterna : 
 
 Chi pallido si fece sotto 1' ombra 
 
 Si di Parnaso, o bevve in sua cisterna, 
 Che non paresse aver la mente ingombra, 
 
 Tentando a render te qual tu paresti 
 
 La dove armonniz ando il ciel 1' adombra, 
 Quando nell' aere aperto ti solvesti 1 
 
PURGATORY. 197 
 
 dently believed. The dragon is Mahomet, and his assault 
 represents the attacks of the Saracens. The harlot represents 
 the spirit of worldiness which sometimes swayed the ministers 
 of the Church, and the giant is a figure of the king of France, 
 Philippe le Bel, who allied himself with everything that was 
 evil and wicked, within the Church as outside it, in order to 
 carry out his own projects. The giant, full of jealousy and 
 rage, unlooses the chariot and drags it off through the forest, 
 a figure of Philip, who succeeded in dragging the Pope away 
 from Rome to Avignon, and transferring the papacy and its 
 influence beyond the Alps. 
 
 Nevertheless the lustre of the Spouse of Christ on earth 
 can be dimmed only for a short time. 
 
 The seven ladies (representing Faith, Hope and Charity, 
 Justice, Prudence, Fortitude and Temperance) intoned the 
 psalm " Deus venerunt gentes," the canticle of the Assyrians 
 lamenting the desolation of Jerusalem. Beatrice listened to 
 them with sighs of compassion and with a countenance so 
 full of woe, " that Mary was changed but little more beneath 
 the cross ". 
 
 E Beatrice sospirosa e pia 
 Quelle ascoltava si fatta, che poco 
 Piii alia croce si cambio Maria. 
 
 And when the others had finished she began with countenance 
 red as fire : — 
 
 Modicum et non videbitis me 
 Bt iterum, sorelle mie dilette, 
 Modicum et vos videbitis me. 
 
 Words of varied meaning, which signify that the cloud that 
 hangs over the Church is but a passing one, and at the same 
 time prophecy that the Popes shall soon be restored to Rome 
 from their captivity or exile at Avignon. At these words she 
 moves on, accompanied by her seven hand-maidens. She 
 makes a sign to Dante, to Matilda, and to the poet Statius, 
 
198 PURGATORY. 
 
 who is still in the cortege, to follow her. She calls Dante near 
 and speaks to him more familiarly, but severely still. She 
 explains to him, as they go, some of the secrets of the place ; 
 but his mind is confused from the effects of sin ; and so it 
 remains till Matilda, at the request of Beatrice, leads him to 
 the Eunoe, bathes him in its waters, and makes him drink 
 thereof as she had already done in the Lethe, and thus 
 removes from his mind every obstacle to intelligence. 
 
 " From this holy wave I returned, renewed as are young 
 trees with new foliage, pure and disposed to ascend to the 
 stars." 1 
 
 ' lo ritornai dalla santissima onda 
 Rifatto SI, come piante novelle 
 Rinovellate di novella fronda 
 Puro e disposto a salire alle stelle. 
 
 — " Purg.," canto xxxiii. 
 
199 
 
 PARADISE. 
 
 The heaven that Dante visited was the heaven of Ptolemy. 
 As in hell there are nine circles and in purgatory nine stages 
 or divisions, so in heaven there are nine spheres. In these 
 the souls of the blessed rejoice according to their different grada- 
 tions of virtue and sanctity. The earth, which is the centre 
 of this vast cosmic system, is composed of two elements, land 
 and water, and is surrounded by the elements of air and fire. 
 Beyond the firmament of fire come the heavenly spheres in 
 due succession. First come the spheres of the planets, as 
 Ptolemy called them,^ viz., the Moon, Mercury, Venus, the 
 Sun, Jupiter and Saturn. Each of these planets revolves on 
 its axis and describes a course in epicycles round a fixed 
 invisible point in the heavens. Each takes with it its con- 
 comitant sphere. Beyond Saturn comes the heaven of the 
 fixed stars. The revolution of their sphere is the longest, 
 being farthest from the earth, that of the Moon being shortest 
 on account of its proximity to the centre. Then comes the 
 outer circle, the crystalline heaven or " Primum Mobile," from 
 which all motions, forms, and change, proceed. This circle 
 makes all the other spheres to revolve in twenty-four hours, 
 leaving, however, its own individual motion to each planet and 
 sphere. 
 
 Outside the crystalline heaven, beyond all mutations of 
 time and space, is the empyrean, the heaven of light and fire, 
 the dwelling place of the Eternal Godhead. 
 
 Angels and saints, according to their degrees of glory 
 inhabit these different spheres ; but it is in the empyrean, in 
 
 ' Dante calls them stars oi planets indifferently. 
 
200 PARADISE. 
 
 the immediate vision of God, that all find the source of their 
 beatitude. The poet divides them in this fashion, merely in 
 order to make himself intelligible to mortals. 
 
 " Thus needs, that ye may apprehend, we speak, 
 Since from things sensible alone ye learn 
 That which digested rightly after turns 
 To intellectual." 
 
 — Par. canto iv., 28. 
 
 In the rotation of these vast spheres the poet is now caught 
 up, and traverses each one in turn, noting as he passes things 
 which it would be folly to narrate, so incapable is the mind 
 of man, in its present state, of forming the least conception of 
 them. 
 
 He must, therefore, accomodate himself to his auditors, 
 and speak through signs and symbols, to convey a notion, 
 however inadequate, of the wonders that were revealed to him 
 in his flight. 
 
 "Can we follow him," writes M. Ginguen^,^ "on this 
 journey of delight as we followed him through the regions 
 of pain. The more closely we examine this final part of 
 the poem the more we feel compelled to admit that it is 
 impossible. 
 
 " In the ' Inferno ' the vision of suffering strikes us with 
 terror. The strong, sombre, and melancholy imagination of 
 the poet disturbs the calmest, and awakens to life and attention 
 the most listless, soul. In ' Purgatory' hope is everywhere. Its 
 pleasant colours shine on every object there, and light up the 
 gloom of every sorrow. In both these regions of pain ad- 
 ventures of one kind or another ; touching or terrible episodes ; 
 faithful descriptions of things human ; fantastic pictures that 
 have a touch of reality in them because they furnish ideal 
 beauties with features that bring them under the domain of 
 sense ; sallies of satire varied and pungent — incite at every step 
 the sensibility and the imagination or stir the malice of the 
 
 ^"Histoire Litteraire d'ltalie," vol. ii., p. 196, 197. 
 
PARADISE. 201 
 
 reader. The ' Paradiso ' offers scarcely any of these resources. 
 In it all is light and brilliancy. Intellectual contemplation is 
 the only enjoyment. Solutions of difficulties and explana- 
 tions of mysteries fill almost all the gradations by which one 
 ascends to the act of intimate knowledge, the fixed and 
 eternal intuition of Infinite Goodness. 
 
 " This, indeed, is admirable. But it is too much out of 
 proportion with the weakness of our understanding, too much 
 above those human affections which eminently constitute the 
 nature of man, perhaps even too purely celestial for poetry, 
 which in the first ages of the world was, no doubt, almost ex- 
 clusively occupied with the things of heaven, but which for a 
 long period has not been able to treat them with success unless 
 it mingled with them the objects and the interests and the 
 passions of this world." 
 
 The greater number of the readers of the " Paradiso " will 
 undoubtedly agree with this appreciation of Ginguen6. Yet 
 the paradise of Dante has its elect as well as the paradise he 
 describes. Those alone who have mastered the treatise of 
 ontology in the philosophical schools, and the treatises on 
 grace and virtues in theology, can rest in Dante's " Paradiso," 
 or follow with the interest of the initiated the mysteries it 
 expounds. 
 
 The poet does not allow his soul to be entirely over- 
 come by the new scenes that arise before him. He is duly 
 grave and recollected as he surveys these new regions. 
 
 " The glory of Him Who moves everything penetrates the 
 universe and shines with more splendour in one part, with 
 less in another. Heaven it is that receives most of His light. 
 There have I been and have seen things which he who de- 
 scends neither knows how nor is able to relate. Whatever of 
 the Holy Realm I could treasure up in my mind shall now 
 be the theme of my song." ^ 
 
 ^ " Par.,'' canto i. 
 
202 PARADISE. 
 
 He then invokes Apollo and calls upon him to enter into 
 his breast and breathe as when he drew Marsyas from the 
 sheath of his limbs.^ 
 
 " O Divine Power, if thou lend thyself to me so that I 
 may make manifest the image of the Blessed Realm imprinted 
 within my head, thou shalt see me come to thy chosen tree 
 and crown myself with those leaves of which the theme and 
 thou will make me worthy. So rarely. Father, are they 
 gathered, for triumph of Caesar or of poet (fault and shame 
 of the human wills), that the Peneian leaf shall bring forth 
 joy unto the joyous delphic deity whenever it makes any one 
 to long for it. Great flame follows a little spark. Perhaps 
 after one prayer shall be made with better voices whereto 
 Cyrra may respond." ^ 
 
 While standing on the very summit of the mountain he 
 saw the eyes of Beatrice fixed upon the sun with such an 
 ardent gaze that never did eagle so fix himself upon it. From 
 these radiant eyes a power is communicated to him which 
 enables him also to look steadfastly at the great orb of 
 light. 
 
 " Not long did I endure it, nor so little that I did not see 
 it sparkling round about, like iron that issues boiling from the 
 fire. And on a sudden day seemed to be added to day, as if 
 He who is able had adorned the heaven with another sun " 
 ("Par.," canto i.). 
 
 So much of the heaven seemed enkindled by this flame 
 that "rain or river never made so broad a lake". Intent 
 upon such a sight the poet is scarcely conscious that he is 
 flying through space with lightning speed, till Beatrice tells 
 him he is no longer upon earth. She furthermore explains 
 to him how it is that he is carried upwards. 
 
 ' Si come quando Marsia tiaesti, 
 Delia vagina delle membra sue. 
 ^ In the " Inferno " and " Purgatorio " the poet had invoked the Muses only ; 
 now he thinks it necessary to invoke Apollo himself. 
 
PARADISE. 203 
 
 "All things whatsoever have order among themselves; 
 and this is the form which makes the universe like to God. 
 Here the high creatures see the imprint of the eternal good- 
 ness, which is the end for which the aforesaid rule is made. 
 In the order of which I speak all natures are arranged, by- 
 diverse lots, more or less near to their source. Wherefore 
 they are moved to diverse ports through the great sea of being, 
 and each one with an instinct given to it which may bear it 
 on. This bears the fire upwards towards the moon ; this is 
 the motive force of mortal hearts ; this binds together and 
 unites the earth. Nor does this bow shoot forth only the 
 created things which are outside intelligence, but also those 
 which have understanding and love. The Providence that 
 adjusts all this with its own light, makes forever quiet the 
 heaven within which that revolves which hath the greatest 
 speed. And thither now, as to a sight decreed, the virtue of 
 that chord bears us on which direct to a joyful mark whatever 
 it shoots.'' 
 
 This is Dante's description of what philosophers call the 
 "Lex Aetema". God, who is the primal cause of all things, 
 and possesses all perfections within Himself, gives to every 
 creature a law of its nature, which regulates its place and 
 movements in the providential harmony and ordains it to its 
 end. The sovereign plan of this natural order exists in the 
 mind of the Eternal which imprints something of its own like- 
 ness upon all that it creates.^ Nor is this natural appetite 
 or instinct imparted to each individual being confined to the 
 lower creation. It extends likewise to man. But man has 
 freedom of the will. He can, therefore, pervert his nature and 
 
 ^ St. Gregory says : " Sicut vis animas vivificat et movet corpus, sic vis divina 
 implet quae creavit omnia. Et alia inspirando vivificat, aliis tribuit ut vivant, 
 aliis vero hoc solummodo praestat ut sint. Quia vero esse non dubitas creantem 
 et regentem, implentem et circuraplectentem, transcendentem et sustinentem, 
 incircumscriptum et invisibilem Deum, ita dubitare non debes hunc et invisibilia 
 obsequia habere. — "Dialogi," lib. iv., ch. vi. 
 
204 PARADISE. 
 
 turn aside from the universal good appointed for him to some- 
 thing of his own invention : for the poet continues : — 
 
 " True it is that as the form often accords not to the 
 intention of the art, because the material is deaf to respond, 
 so the creature sometimes deviates from this course ; for it 
 has power though thus impelled to incline in another direc- 
 tion (even as the fire of a cloud may be seen to fall) if the 
 first impetus, bent aside by false pleasure, turn it earthwards. 
 Thou shouldst not, if I deem aright, wonder more at thy 
 ascent than at a stream if from a high mountain it descends 
 to the base. A marvel it would be in thee, if, deprived of 
 hindrance, thou hadst sat below, even as quiet as living fire 
 on earth could be " (" Par.," canto i.). 
 
 THE FIRST SPHERE: THE MOON. 
 CANTOS III.-V. 
 
 Now is the time for frail barks to return to the shore,^ no 
 matter how desirous their occupants may be to follow the 
 poet's craft and listen to its music. They have no business 
 venturing on the high seas. These waters were never crossed 
 before. Minerva guides the captain ; Apollo inspires him ; 
 the Muses show him the Polar Star. There are a few privileged 
 ones, however, who are invited to follow. 
 
 " Ye other few who have lifted up your necks betimes to 
 the bread of the angels, on which one here subsists, but never 
 becomes sated of it, ye may well put forth your vessel over 
 the salt deep, keeping my wake before you on the water, 
 which becomes smooth again. Those glorious ones who 
 
 1 Voi, che siete in piccioletta barca, 
 
 Desiderosi d' ascoltar, seguiti 
 
 Dietro al mio legno, che cantando varca, 
 Tornate a riveder i vostri liti ; 
 
 Non vi mettete in pelago, che forse 
 
 Perdendo me, riraarreste smarriti. 
 L' acqua ch' io prendo, giammai non si corse : 
 
 Minerva spira, e conducemi Apollo, 
 
 E nove Muse mi dimostran 1' Orse. 
 
PARADISE. 205 
 
 passed over to Colchos wondered not as ye shall do, when 
 they saw Jason become a ploughman" (" Par.," canto ii.).^ 
 
 When they had reached the first term of their flight 
 Beatrice turned to him, joyful and happy, and said to him : 
 " Uplift thy grateful mind to God Who with the first star has 
 conjoined us ". 
 
 Dante readily obeys her directions, and then inquires as to 
 the causes of the spots on the moon,^ " which make people 
 below fable about Cain ". 
 
 Before answering his question Beatrice asks him what he 
 thinks is the cause. He replies that he fancies it must be due 
 to the effect of light on rare and dense bodies. 
 
 Beatrice refutes this explanation by two arguments, and 
 then gives the real explanation. It is not "rare and dense" 
 that account for the many lights that are to be seen in the 
 eighth heaven. There is no such thing there as rare and 
 dense ; yet there are things differing in quality and quantity. 
 Different virtues must be the result of formal principles ; 
 but if Dante's explanation were admitted all formal principles 
 would be destroyed except one. In the second place, if these 
 dark spots were due to difference in rarity and density, it 
 would be either because the ray of light passed entirely 
 through the body, there being no matter to hinder it, or 
 because there are strata of matter, like fat and lean, which 
 have more or less power of reflection. Neither can be the 
 case ; for, if the first were true, we should perceive it in the 
 
 1 Voi altri pochi, che drizzaste 'I coUo 
 
 Per tempo al pan degli Angeli, del quale 
 Vivesi qui, ma non si vien satollo ; 
 Metter potete ben per 1' alto sale 
 Vostro navigio, servando mio solco 
 Dinanzi all' acqua, che ritorna eguale. 
 Que' gloriosi, che passaro a Colco, 
 Non s' ammiiaron, come voi farete, 
 Quando lason videi fatto bifolco. 
 ' In the Middle Ages there was a legend to the effect that these dark spaces 
 represented Cain carrying a thorn bush for the fire of his sacrifices. 
 
206 PARADISE. 
 
 case of a total eclipse of the sun : the second must appear also 
 false, for if you take three mirrors and place them one behind 
 the other, and allow some rays of light to fall on their surface, 
 you see that the image thrown back from the mirror farthest 
 away is not so great in quantity, but is equal in brightness 
 with the others. 
 
 Having thus refuted Dante's explanation, she proceeds to 
 give the real cause.^ 
 
 " Within the heaven of the divine peace revolves a body,^ 
 in whose virtue lies the being of all that it contains. The 
 following heaven, which has so many sights, distributes that 
 being through divers essences, from it distinct and by it con- 
 tained. The other spheres, by various differences, dispose the 
 distinctions which they have within themselves unto their ends 
 and their seeds. These organs of the world thus proceed, 
 as thou now seest, from grade to grade ; for they receive from 
 above and operate below. . . . The motion and virtue of 
 the holy spheres must needs be inspired by blessed motors, 
 as the work of the hammer by the smith. And the heaven 
 which so many lights makes beautiful takes its image from the 
 
 ^ If Dante were writing at the present day it is pretty certain that Beatrice 
 would formulate her reply in different terms. The telescope and the photometer 
 have upset her answers to the two parts of the dilemma. There is a sense, how- 
 ever, in which her final answer is true : for when all the physical explanations 
 are given there is still an " ultima ratio " of the phenomenon which is un- 
 explained. Herschell would have solved the dilemma very differently firom 
 Beatrice ; but we doubt if he would have given the ultimate cause more correctly. 
 Physical science only tells us that things are so. Philosophy, the "scientia 
 causarum," seeks to penetrate farther and to reveal to us how and why things 
 are so. Against any of the answers of modern philosophy to these two questions 
 the answer of Beatrice will certainly hold its own. 
 ^ The " Primum Mobile " in the empyrean. 
 
 Si gira un corpo, nella cui virtute 
 
 L' esser di tutto suo contento giace. 
 Lo ciel seguente, ch' ha tante, vedute, 
 
 Queir esser parte, per diverse essenze 
 
 Da lui distinte, e da lui contenute. 
 Gli altri giron per varie differenze 
 
 Le distinzion, che dentro da se hanno, 
 
 Dispongono a lor fini e lor semenze. 
 
PARADISE. 207 
 
 deep Mind which revolves it and makes thereof a seal. . . . 
 From this comes whatso seems different between light and 
 light, not from dense and rare. This is the formal principle 
 which produces, conformed unto its goodness, the dark and 
 the bright" ("Par.," canto ii.). 
 
 Before Dante has time to confess his error and acknowledge 
 himself corrected, his attention is drawn away by the vision 
 of many faces that here appeared to him, all turning their gaze 
 in the same direction. They looked as if they were reflected 
 from a mirror or some crystal stream. He fell into " the 
 error contrary to that which kindled love between the man 
 and the fountain "} Beatrice readily corrects his mistake 
 and bids him speak with the personages. 
 
 The souls that appear in this first heaven are those of 
 women, who in the world below made vows of chastity and 
 consecrated their lives to religion, but were torn from the 
 cloister against their will and compelled to enter the married 
 state. Whilst yielding to the force of external circumstances 
 they had never afterwards swerved from the path of virtue. 
 The first to attract his attention and engage him in conversa- 
 tion was Piccarda, the sister of Corso Donati, and of Forese 
 whom he had already met in Purgatory.^ She tells him how 
 she was, in the world, a virgin sister, in the order of St. Clare, 
 and how she was dragged from the home that she had chosen, 
 and forced to spend the rest of her days in the world.* 
 
 " Perfect life and high merit inheaven a lady higher-up," 
 she said to me, " according to whose rule, in your world below, 
 there are who vest and veil themselves, so that till death they 
 may wake and sleep with that Spouse who accepts every vow 
 which love conforms unto His pleasure. A young girl, I fled 
 
 ^ Narcissus believed the image in the fountain to be a living face. Dante 
 believed the real faces to be mere images. 
 
 ^ Piccarda must, therefore, have been a relative, perhaps a sister, of his wife. 
 Gemma Donati. 
 
 ' She was compelled to marry Roselino della Tosa, a nobleman of Florence 
 
208 PARADISE. 
 
 from the world to follow her, and in her garb I shut myself, 
 and pledged me to the pathway of her order. Afterward men, 
 more used to ill than good, dragged me forth from the sweet 
 cloister ; and God knows what then my life became. And this 
 other splendour, which shows itself to thee at my right side, 
 and which glows with all the light of our sphere, that which I 
 say of me understands of herself. A sister was she ; and in 
 like manner from her head the shadow of the sacred veils was 
 taken. But after she too was returned unto the world against 
 her liking and against good usage, from the veil of the heart 
 she was never unbound. This is the light of the great Con- 
 stance,^ who from the second wind of Swabia produced the 
 third and the last power." 
 
 Dante inquires if she and the other souls are perfectly 
 happy in this, the lowest sphere, and if they do not burn with 
 the desire to ascend higher and nearer to the object of their 
 love. She replies that perfect happiness is the result of the 
 accord of our will with the will of Him who regulates all 
 things, and that as He assigns them this abode, they aspire 
 to nothing more. 
 
 Two difficulties here perplex the poet's mind, (i) The 
 will is the source of merit. If, therefore, these blessed souls 
 were taken from the cloister in the nether world, against their 
 will, why is the measure of their deserts lessened ? Why are 
 they admitted only to the lowest sphere ? (2) Plato taught in 
 his " Timsus " that each soul was assigned, on its creation, to 
 a star, whence they were severed for probation, and to which 
 they returned if their lives were good. Was Plato's doctrine, 
 then, so far astray ? 
 
 Beatrice answers the second question first, because it is the 
 more dangerous. All these spirits have their seats in the 
 empyrean, just like Moses, Samuel, St. John, and even Mary 
 
 1 Constance was also withdrawn by force from a convent of the same order 
 and compelled to marry Henry V., the brother of Frederick Barbarossa. She was 
 the mother of the famous emperor, Frederick II. 
 
PARADISE. 209 
 
 herself. They showed themselves here, not because they are 
 confined to this particular sphere, but to give sign of the 
 celestial condition, which was the least height. "To speak 
 thus is befitting to your mind, since only by objects of the 
 sense doth it apprehend that which it then makes worthy of 
 the understanding. For this reason the Scripture condescends 
 to your capacity, and attributes feet and hands to God, while 
 meaning otherwise ; and Holy Church represents to you with 
 human aspect Gabriel and Michael and the other who made 
 Tobias whole again. That which Timaeus reasons of the souls 
 is not like this which is seen here, since it seems that he thinks 
 as he says. He says that the soul returns to its own star 
 believing it to have been severed thence, when nature gave it 
 as the form. And perchance his opinion is of other guise than 
 his words sound, and may be of meaning not to be derided.^ 
 If he means that the honour of their influence and the blame 
 returns to these wheels, perhaps his bow hits on some truth. 
 This principle, ill understood, formerly turned awry almost the 
 whole world, so that it ran astray in naming Jove, Mercury, 
 and Mars " (" Par.," canto iv.). 
 
 As for the difficulty regarding the will, she says that it has 
 less malice than the other one, and is a proof of faith rather 
 than of heresy, as men would not trouble themselves regarding 
 God's justice, unless they had faith in it. She then dis- 
 tinguishes between the absolute will and the mixed will. The 
 former " held Lorenzo on the gridiron and made Mucius severe 
 unto his band ". If the ladies in question here had willed in 
 this fashion, they would when loosed have returned again. 
 But will so firm is rare. The absolute will for right consents 
 to nothing wrong. The mixed will consents through fear of 
 greater trouble ; violence, in this case, becomes mingled with 
 the will, and they so act that the offences cannot be excused. 
 
 1 Dante probably means that the souls having their origin in the eighth 
 heaven and passing into the body under the influence of certain constellations 
 receive an influence vifhich may determine how they are to return. 
 
 14 
 
210 PARADISE. 
 
 The love of the veil on the part of Constance was an absolute 
 love that never left her heart, although she could never re- 
 trace her course when once embarked on the way of life. Her 
 will to observe her vow was, therefore, mixed. Hence her 
 merit and its accompanying drawbacks. Her own repentance 
 atoned for whatever weakness she displayed in the resistance 
 and the dispensation of the Church did the rest.^ 
 
 Beatrice analyses at considerable length the nature and 
 elements of a vow, showing its sublime value, and showing 
 the danger of trying to shift the load off one's shoulders with- 
 out the authority of " the white and yellow key" ;^ and then 
 she utters the solemn warning : — 
 
 " Let not mortals take a vow in jest; be faithful, and not 
 squint-eyed in doing this, as Jephthah was in his first offering ; 
 to whom it better behoved to say, ' I have done ill,' than 
 by keeping his vow to do worse. And thou mayest find the 
 great leader of the Greeks in like manner foolish ; wherefore 
 Iphigenia wept for her fair face, and made weep for her both 
 the simple and the wise, who heard speak of such like 
 observance. Be ye Christians, more grave in moving ; be not 
 like a feather on every wind, and think not that every water 
 can wash you. Ye have the Old and the New Testament, 
 and the Shepherd of the Church who guides you ; let this 
 suffice you for your salvation. If evil covetousness cry aught 
 
 1 St. Thomas held that not even the Pope could dispense in the solemn vow 
 of religion : " Non potest in solemni vote continentise per professionem religionis 
 consecrate fieri etiam per summum pontificem dispensatio" (" Summa Theo- 
 logica," Quasst. Ixxxviii., art. xi.). The opposite opinion, however, is more 
 probable, as we are assured by St. Alphonsus, Cajetan, Suarez, Sanchez, Lessius, 
 and the Salmanticenses. Nevertheless, Dante follows the opinion of St. Thomas ; 
 and his analysis of the vow is a close reproduction of the theological analysis of 
 the Angelic Doctor. Mr. Gardner, who is usually so correct, here represents 
 Dante as more severe even than St. Thomas (" Dante's Ten Heavens," p. 63). 
 We think he is mistaken ; and if he will only read the article in the " Summa" 
 quoted here, and then read Dante's fifth canto, we think he will find them in 
 perfect agreement. 
 
 ''Authority of the judge and knowledge of the circumstances. 
 
PARADISE. 21 1 
 
 else to you, be ye men, and not silly sheep, so that the Jew 
 among you may not laugh at you. Act not like the lamb, 
 that leaves the milk of his mother, and, simple and wanton, 
 at its own pleasure combats with itself" (" Par., " canto v.). 
 
 At this point Beatrice grew more intent on the azure 
 above. Her countenance shone more brightly than ever. 
 She was silent for a moment ; " and even as an arrow that 
 hits the mark before the bowstring is quiet, so we ran into 
 the second realm" (" Par.," canto v.). 
 
 THE SECOND SPHERE: MERCURY. 
 
 CANTOS V.-VII. 
 
 In this second heaven appear those with whose virtuous 
 deeds a little vanity was blended, so that they desired to 
 appear great and good in the eyes of the world. The measure 
 of possible felicity is diminished by so much, without, however, 
 leaving any desire of theirs unsatisfied. 
 
 As divers tones in music sweet combine, 
 So in our life the several steps uprise, 
 And in these spheres make harmony divine. 
 
 — Plumptre's Translation, vol. ii., p. 34. 
 
 From the midst of the myriads of souls that triumph here, 
 one comes forward to converse with the poet and give him 
 whatever information he desires. Dante merely inquired who 
 he was and why he had his station in the second heaven. 
 The soul replied that he was the Emperor Justinian. He then 
 narrates how he was converted from the Eutychian heresy, 
 by Pope Agapetus, and proceeds to describe the origin and 
 progress of the Roman eagle, the standard of the Empire, 
 over part of which, at least, he once held sway. " In this 
 historic piece of nearly a hundred lines, there is," writes 
 Ginguen^,* " a precision, an appropriateness of expression, as 
 well as a poetic style that cannot be too much admired." 
 
 ^ " Histoire Litteraire d'ltalie," tom. ii., p. 207. 
 
212 PARADISE. 
 
 " Now here to the first question my answer must come to 
 a stop ; but its nature constrains me to add a sequel to it, 
 in order that thou mayest see with how much reason move 
 against the ensign sacrosanct both he who appropriates it to 
 himself and he who opposes himself to it.^ See how great 
 virtue has made it worthy of reverence, beginning from the 
 hour when Pallas ^ died to give it a kingdom ! Thou knowest 
 it made in Alba its abode for three hundred years and more, 
 till at the end the three fought with the three ^ for its sake 
 still. And thou knowest what it did, from the wrong of the 
 Sabine women down to the sorrow of Lucretia, in seven kings, 
 conquering the neighbouring peoples round about. Thou 
 knowest what it did when borne by the illustrious Romans 
 against Brennus, against Pyrrhus, and against the other chiefs 
 and allies ; whereby Torquatus, and Quinctius who was named 
 from his neglected locks, the Decii and the Fabii acquired the 
 fame which willingly I embalm. It struck to earth the pride 
 of the Arabs, who, following Hannibal, passed the Alpine 
 rocks from which thou, Po, glidest. Beneath it, in their youth, 
 Scipio and Pompey triumphed, and to that hill beneath which 
 thou wast born it seemed bitter. * Then near the time when 
 all heaven willed to bring the world to its own serene mood, 
 Caesar by the will of Rome took it ; and what it did from the 
 Var even to the Rhine, the Is^re beheld, and the Sa6ne, and 
 the Seine beheld, and every valley whence the Rhone is filled. 
 What afterward it did when it came forth from Ravenna, and 
 leaped the Rubicon, was of such flight that neither tongue nor 
 pen could follow it. Toward Spain it wheeled its troop ; then 
 toward Dyrrachium, and smote Pharsalia so that to the warm 
 
 1 Ghibellines and Guelphs. 
 
 ^ Son of Evander, King of Latium, sent by his father to aid ^neas. His 
 death in battle against Turnus led to that of Turnus himself, and to the posses- 
 sion of the Latian kingdom by ^neas. 
 
 3 The Horatii and Curiatii. 
 
 * According to popular tradition Fiesole was destroyed by the Romans after 
 the defeat of Catiline. 
 
PARADISE. 213 
 
 Nile the pain was felt. It saw again Antandros and Simois, 
 whence it set forth, and there where Hector lies ; and ill for 
 Ptolemy then it shook itself Thence it swooped flashing 
 down on Juba ; then wheeled again unto your west, where it 
 heard the Pompeian trumpet. For what it did with the next 
 standard-bearer,^ Brutus and Cassius are barking in Hell ; and 
 it made Modena and Perugia woful. Still does the sad 
 Cleopatra weep therefor, who, fleeing before it, took from the 
 asp sudden and black death. With him it ran far as the Red 
 Sea shore ; with him it set the world in peace so great that 
 on Janus his temple was locked up." 
 
 Dante could never be brought to Realise the fact that the 
 Roman Empire had sealed its doom on the day when its 
 representative in Palestine delivered up the Saviour of the 
 world to be crucified. He always fell back on the plea that 
 the Empire was the instrument of vengeance as well as of the 
 crime, for he continues : — 
 
 " But what the ensign which makes me speak had done 
 before, and after was to do, through the mortal realm that is 
 subject to it, becomes in appearance little and obscure, if in 
 the hand of the third Caesar ^ it be looked at with clear eye, 
 and with pure affection. For the living Justice which inspires 
 me granted to it, in the hand of him of whom I speak, the 
 glory of doing vengeance for its own ire — now marvel here at 
 that which I unfold to thee — then with Titus it ran to do 
 vengeance for the avenging of the ancient sin. And when the 
 Lombard tooth bit the Holy Church, under its wings, Charle- 
 magne conquering succoured her. 
 
 " Now canst thou judge of such as these whom I accused 
 above, and of their crimes, which are the cause of all your ills. 
 To the public ensign one opposes the yellow lilies,^ and the 
 other appropriates it to a party, so that it is hard to see which 
 is most at fault. Let the Ghibellines practice, let them 
 
 ' Augustus. 2 Tiberius. " The fleur-de-lys. 
 
214 PARADISE. 
 
 practice their art under another ensign, for he ever follows it 
 ill who parts justice and it. And let not this new Charles ^ 
 strike it down with his Guelphs, but let him fear its talons 
 which from a loftier lion have stripped the fell. Often ere 
 now the sons have wept for the sin of the father ; and let him 
 not believe that for his lilies God will change his arms." 
 
 Justinian then proceeds to answer the second question, 
 viz., why he appears in this particular sphere, developing 
 the reason stated above ; and then he informs the poet that 
 in this sphere also Romeo is to be seen, not the Romeo of 
 Shakespeare, but a famous pilgrim and statesman of the 
 Middle Ages, who had suffered much from the calumnies 
 and jealousies of his contemporaries. On his return from a 
 pilgrimage to St. James of Compostella, Romeo visited the 
 Court of Raymond Berenger IV., Count of Provence, and after 
 he had won the favour of the court and prince, Raymond 
 placed him at the head of affairs. His success was so great 
 that the count got his four daughters married to four kings : 
 one to St. Louis of France, one to Henry II. of England, one 
 to Richard of Cornwall, who was elected King of the Romans, 
 and one to Charles of Anjou, King of Apulia and Sicily. The 
 nobles of Provence, however, whispered calumnies against 
 Romeo ; and in his old age he was dismissed from the court 
 and obliged to take up his scrip and staff and wander through 
 the world, a pilgrim as before. There is a touch of pathos in 
 the concluding words in which this episode is related that we 
 have never found fully expressed in any translation. 
 
 Indi partissi povero e vetusto ; 
 
 E se il mundo sapesse il cor ch' egli ebbe, 
 
 Mendicando sua vita a frusto a frusto. 
 Assai lo loda e piu lo loderebbe. 
 
 — " Par.," canto vi. 
 
 At the end of his speech, Justinian, in the double light of 
 a ruler and a law giver, resumed his song : — 
 
 ' Charles II., son of Charles of Anjou. 
 
PARADISE. 215 
 
 Osanna, Sanctus Deus Sabaoth, 
 Superillustrans claritate tua 
 Felices ignes horum malahoth. 
 
 And it and the others moved with their dance, and hke 
 swiftest sparks of fire veiled themselves from the poet's view. 
 
 Dante, now left for a moment to himself, is perplexed in 
 mind as to the justice of the Redemption. It would seem as 
 if he thought it beneath the dignity of God to take further 
 notice of man after Adam's fall, except to avenge the sin. 
 The vengeance was just. How could it be satisfied except 
 by punishment? Beatrice, noticing his trouble, soon comes 
 to his relief. 
 
 " But I will quickly loose thy mind : and do thou listen, 
 for my words will make thee a present of a great doctrine. 
 
 " By not enduring for his own good a curb upon the power 
 which wills, that man who was not born, damning himself, 
 damned all his offspring ; wherefore the human race lay 
 sick below for many centuries, in great error, till it pleased the 
 Word of God to descend where He, by the sole act of His 
 eternal love, united with Himself in person the nature which 
 had removed itself from its Maker. 
 
 " Now direct thy sight to the discourse which follows. 
 This nature, united with its Maker, became sincere and good, 
 as it had been created ; but by itself it had been banished 
 from Paradise, because it turned aside from the way of truth 
 and from its own life. The punishment therefore which the 
 cross afforded, if it be measured by the nature assumed, none 
 ever so justly stung ; and, likewise, none was ever of such 
 great wrong, regarding the Person who suffered, with whom 
 this nature was united. Therefore from one act issued things 
 diverse; for unto God and unto the Jews one death was 
 pleasing : for it earth trembled and the heavens were opened. 
 No more henceforth ought to seem perplexing to thee when 
 it is said that a just vengeance was afterwards avenged by a 
 just court." 
 
216 PARADISE. 
 
 " But why," intervenes the poet, " did God will only this 
 mode for our redemption ? " 
 
 Beatrice tells him why. " This decree, brother, stands 
 buried to the eyes of every one whose wit is not full grown in 
 the flame of love. . . . The Divine Goodness which from Itself 
 spurns all envy, burning in Itself, so sparkles that It displays the 
 eternal beauties. That which distils immediately from It, there- 
 after has no end ; for when It seals, Its imprint is not removed. 
 That which from It immediately rains down is wholly free ; 
 because it is not subject unto the power of new things. It is 
 the most conformed to It and therefore pleases It the most ; 
 for the Holy Ardour, which irradiates everything, is most living 
 in what is most resemblant to Itself. With all these things 
 the human creature is advantaged, and if one fail, he needs 
 must fall from his nobility. Sin alone is that which dis- 
 franchises him, and makes him unlike the Supreme Good, so 
 that by Its light he is little illumined. And to his dignity he 
 never returns, unless, where sin makes void, he fill up for evil 
 pleasures with just penalties. Your nature, when it sinned 
 totally in its seed,^ was removed from these dignities, even as 
 from Paradise ; nor could they be recovered, if thou con- 
 siderest full subtly, by any way, without passing by one of 
 these fords : either that God alone by His courtesy should 
 forgive, or that man by himself should make satisfaction for 
 his folly. Fix now thine eye within the abyss of the eternal 
 counsel, fixed as closely on my speech as thou art able. Man 
 within his own limits could never make satisfaction, through 
 not being able to descend so far with humility in subsequent 
 obedience, as disobeying he intended to ascend ; and this is 
 the reason why man was excluded from power to make satis- 
 faction by himself. Therefore it behoved God by His own 
 paths ^ to restore man to his entire life — I mean by one, or 
 else by both. But because the work of the workman is so 
 
 '■ Adam. 
 
 2 " All the paths of the Lord are mercy and truth " (Ps. xxv. lo). 
 
PARADISE. 217 
 
 much the more pleasing, the more it represents of the good- 
 ness of the heart whence it issues, the Divine Goodness which 
 imprints the world was content to proceed by all Its paths to 
 lift you up again ; nor between the last night and the first day 
 has there been or will there be so lofty and so magnificent a 
 procedure either by one or by the other ; for God was more 
 liberal in giving Himself to make man sufficient to lift himself 
 up again, than if only of Himself He had pardoned him. And 
 all the other modes ^ were scanty in respect to justice, if the 
 Son of God had not humbled himself to become incarnate " " 
 (" Par.," canto vii.). 
 
 THE THIRD SPHERE : VENUS. 
 
 CANTOS VII., VIII. 
 
 The poet, without being aware of his ascent, now suddenly 
 finds himself in the third sphere. He was assured of the fact 
 by the glow of increased beauty on the countenance of Beatrice. 
 The souls that make their apparition here are those in whom 
 love predominated on earth ; as the very name of the planet 
 "labella Ciprigna "' indicates. Here innumerable souls are 
 seen, swept around in a circle, like sparks in the flame, more 
 or less rapidly according to the intensity of their vision. The 
 
 ^ E tutti gli altri modi erano scarsi 
 Alia giustizia, se '1 Figliuol di Dio 
 Non fosse umiliato ad incarnarsi. 
 
 ^ This is little more than a poetic reproduction of the teaching of St. Thomas, 
 who says : " Cum ipsa Dei natura sit essentia bonitatis, atque ad rationem boni 
 pertineat ut se aliis communicet ; perspicuum est decuisse Deum summo modo- 
 se creaturis communicare, quod in opere Incarnationis irapletum est" (" Summa 
 Theologica," Tertia Pars, Quest, i., Art. i.). 
 
 And again : " Potuit Deus, ex infinitate suae divinse potentise, alio quam 
 Incarnationis opere, humanum genus reparare ; sed ut homo facilius et melius 
 suam consequeretur salutem, hoc necessarium fuit ut Verbum ejus Caro fieret" 
 (loc. cit., Art. ii.). 
 
 And again : " Convenientius fuit hominem liberari per passionem Christ! 
 cum majora et potiora bona per eum consecuti fuerimus quam per solam Dei 
 voluntatem" (loc. cit., Qusest. xlvi. , Art. iii.). 
 
 'The Beautiful Cypriote, a name given to Venus on account of her having 
 been born in Cyprus. 
 
^18 PARADISE. 
 
 swiftest wind that ever descended from the icy clouds of heaven 
 would seem slow and almost stationary in comparison with 
 these souls, who received their motion from the seraphim, 
 that circle round the throne of the Eternal. From amongst 
 those nearest to the spectator came forth the sound of 
 " Hosanna," so that the poet ever afterwards desired to hear it 
 again. 
 
 One of these souls now makes its exit from the circle, 
 approaches and addresses the stranger. It was Charles 
 Martel, who had been King of Hungary. He was the eldest 
 son of Charles II. of Naples. He knew and loved the poet, 
 Dante, who now returns his love by giving him this place of 
 honour. Charles tells his friend that he revolves around this 
 sphere in the company of the angels to whom Dante had 
 addressed one of his " Canzoni "} With the consent of 
 Beatrice, Dante inquires as to his identity. 
 
 " My joy which rays me round," answered Charles, " hides 
 me like a creature swathed in its own silk, and holds me con- 
 cealed from thee. Much didst thou love me and thou hadst 
 good reason ; for had I stayed below ^ I had showed thee of 
 my love far more than the leaves." He then proceeds to re- 
 late how the crown of Hungary shone upon his brow, and 
 Sicily, the fair Trinacria, would see his children on her throne, 
 but for the evil rule that moved " Palermo " to shout " Die, 
 Die ".2 
 
 Dante then inquires from him how it is that good fathers 
 often rear wicked children, or, as he puts it, "how bitter can 
 issue from sweet seed ". Charles explains to him that 
 
 1 Voi che intentendo il terzo ciel raovete. 
 
 2 Charles died at an early age. 
 
 ^ An allusion to the Sicilian Vespers, 
 
 Attesi avrebbe li suoi regi ancora 
 Nati per me di Carlo e di Ridolfo, 
 Se mala signoria, che sempre accuora 
 t Li popoli suggetti, non avesse 
 
 Mosso Palermo a gridar : Mora, mora. 
 
PARADISE. 219 
 
 differences of this kind must be attributed to the influence of 
 the heavens acting upon natures of a lower order. There is 
 an instinct coming from above in every human disposition, 
 which, if not turned from its course by fortune, will inevitably 
 lead to good results. 
 
 But " Nature, if she find fortune discordant with herself, 
 like every other seed out of its region, always makes bad re- 
 sult. And if the world down there would fix attention on the 
 foundation which nature lays, following that, it would have its 
 people good. But ye wrest to religion one who shall be born 
 to gird on the sword, and ye make a king of one who is for 
 preaching ; wherefore your track is out of the road." 
 
 Charles then returned to his circle of splendour, at which 
 the poet exclaims : " Ah, souls deceived and creatures impious 
 who from such good turn away your hearts, directing your 
 foreheads into vanity ". 
 
 Two other souls hold converse with the poet before he 
 quits this sphere. They are Cunizza, sister of the tyrant 
 Ezzelino of Padua, and Folco or Foulques of Marseilles, who 
 was first a troubadour and then a bishop. Cunizza dwells on 
 the appropriateness of her appearance in the sphere of Venus, 
 and then proceeds to denounce some of the petty tyrants who 
 were prominent in the contests of Guelphs and Ghibellines. 
 Folco, on his part, launches forth into a tirade against Pope 
 Boniface and the Cardinals, who, according to him, deserted 
 the Gospel and the Doctors for the study of the Decretals.^ 
 Here Dante's bias shows itself in anything but a heavenly 
 light. As we read some of these denunciations, hurled, as it 
 were, from the foot of the throne of God, we are inclined to 
 exclaim with Dante's former guide — 
 
 Tantaene animis coelestibus irae ? ^ 
 
 1 Boniface VIII. was a great Canonist and did much to systematise the 
 Canon Law. 
 
 2 Virgil, "^neid," book i. 
 
220 PARADISE. 
 
 THE FOURTH SPHERE: THE SUN. 
 CANTOS X.-XIV. 
 
 As the sun was circling throught the spirals of the ecliptic, 
 Dante suddenly felt himself drawn into it. Of the ascent he 
 was not even aware. It was like the first impulse in the 
 awakening of a new thought, the " motus primo-primus " of a 
 new action. " Beatrice is she who thus conducts from good to 
 better so swiftly that her acts extend not through time." 
 It is useless to attempt a description of this new sphere. 
 " Though I should call on genius, art, and use, I could not 
 tell it so that it could ever be imagined." Here was to be 
 seen what the poet calls "the fourth family of the High 
 Father, who always satisfies it, showing how He breathes forth 
 and how He begets '' ; that is to say, the theologians who had 
 expounded the inmost actions of the Heavenly Father, in 
 breathing forth His Holy Spirit and begetting His Divine Son. 
 The effulgent souls that here abound are like so many 
 burning suns. Three times they circled round about the new 
 comers, and then "as ladies not loosed from the dance, but 
 who stop silent, listening till they have caught the new notes," 
 they pause for a moment. The position they occupy is like 
 that of the circle or " corona " of the schools, around Dante 
 and Beatrice. Then the poet hears the voice of St. Thomas 
 Aquinas addressing him. He reveals to him the identity of 
 many of the great theologians and ecclesiastical writers of 
 former times. He himself was " one of the lambs of the holy 
 flock which Dominic leads along the way where one fattens 
 well if he stray not". There, alongside him, was Albertus 
 Magnus, Albert of Cologne, his brother and master ; there 
 was Gratian, the Benedictine who compiled the great "decree" ; 
 there was Peter Lombard, the " Master of the Sentences," who, 
 like the poor widow, offered something out of his penury to 
 the treasury of Holy Church ; there was Solomon the Wise, 
 about whose fate people are still uncertain down below ; there 
 
PARADISE. 221 
 
 was Denis the Areopagite,' who, below in the flesh saw most 
 inwardly the angelic nature and its ministry ; there was Paul 
 Orosius with whose discourse (" History against the Pagans ") 
 St. Augustine had provided himself ; there too was the light 
 of Boethius the Philosopher (" the body from which it was 
 hunted out lies below in Cieldauro and from martyrdom and 
 from exile it came unto this peace ") ;^ there also were Isidore 
 of Seville, the Venerable Bede and Richard of St. Victor ; and 
 likewise there was Sigier of Brabant,^ " who reading in the 
 street of Straw, syllogised truths that were hated ". 
 
 ' ' Then, as a horologe which calls us at the hour when the 
 Bride of God rises to sing matins to her Bridegroom that He 
 may love her, in which the one part draws and urges the 
 
 '■ A work on " The Celestial Hierarchy " was attributed to him. 
 
 2 Boethius never made an absolute profession of the Christian faith ; but in 
 his work, " De Consolatione Philosophic," he shows the superiority of Christian 
 philosophy over that of the ancients. Theoderic, King of the Ostrogoths, whose 
 faithful minister he had been, turned against him in his old age, and sent him to 
 exile and prison at Pavia, where he was ultimately put to death. He was re- 
 garded during the middle ages as a martyr for justice, for clemency, and, by 
 some, even for Christianity. Luitprand, King of the Lombards, erected his 
 tomb in the Church of San Pietro in Ciel' d' Oro at Pavia. This was replaced 
 by a more magnificent one, erected by the Emperor, Otho HI., for which Pope 
 Sylvester H. wrote the epitaph. 
 
 ^ Essa e la luce eterna di Sigieri, 
 Che leggendo nel vico degli strami, 
 Sillogizzo invidiosi veri. 
 
 Dante is said to have been a student under Sigier in the Rue du Fouarre, 
 in Paris. This, however, has been refuted by Delisle, Potvin and Castets. 
 Sigier was professor of philosophy at the Paris University. He taught rather 
 risky doctrines, which, according to Dante, provoked the envy of his colleagues. 
 He and Guillaume de Saint Amour were publicly refuted by St. Thomas 
 Aquinas in 1266. Sigier, moreover, took a violent part in the contests of the 
 Faculties. He was censured by the Papal legate, Simon de Brion, afterwards 
 Pope Martin IV., in consequence of which he retired to his native province. 
 Here, however, he continued to propound his heterodox views and was sum- 
 moned to appear before the Inspector-General of the Faith, Simon de Val, at St, 
 Quentin in 1277. Sigier appealed to the Pope and went to prosecute his appeal 
 at Orvieto, where he was stabbed by a mad cleric. It is now clearly shown 
 that Leclerc confounded Sigier de Courtrai with Sigier de Brabant, and that 
 Dante based his appreciation of Sigieri not on personal acquaintance but on 
 his public reputation (Pertz, vol. xxiii., p. 263). See "La Poesie du Moyen 
 Age," by Gaston Paris, Chapter on " Siger de Brabant". 
 
222 PARADISE. 
 
 other, sounding ting! ting! with such sweet note that the well- 
 disposed spirit swells with love, so saw I the glorious wheel 
 move, and render voice to voice in concord and in sweetness 
 which cannot be known save there where joy becomes 
 eternal" ("Par.," canto x.). 
 
 As the wheel of flame revolved and brought back the souls 
 to the position they occupied at first, the voice of St. Thomas 
 was heard once more. This time he pronounces that beautiful 
 eulogy of St. Francis of Assisi, a sublime expression of the 
 bond that united the two great orders of the Church in their 
 patriarch founders, the one being all seraphic ardour, the 
 others a splendour of cherubic light. Having described the 
 early surroundings of the seraph of Assisi, he gives us a poetic 
 picture of the espousals of Francis with Holy Poverty : — 
 
 " For, still a youth, he ran to strife with his father for a 
 lady such as unto whom, even as unto death, no one unlocks 
 the gates of pleasure, and before his spiritual court et coram 
 patre to her he had himself united. Thereafter from day to 
 day he loved her more ardently. She, deprived of her first 
 husband,^ for one thousand and one hundred years and more, 
 despised and obscure, had stood without wooing till he came ; ^ 
 nor had it availed ' to hear, that he, who caused fear to all 
 the world, found her at the sound of his voice secure with 
 Amyclas ; * nor had it availed to have been constant and bold, 
 so that where Mary remained below, she wept with Christ 
 upon the Cross. But that I may not proceed too obscurely, 
 take henceforth in my diffuse speech Francis and Poverty for 
 these lovers. Their concord and their glad semblances made 
 love, and wonder, and sweet regard to be the cause of holy 
 thoughts ; ^ so that the venerable Bernard first bared his feet,* 
 
 ' Christ. ^ St. Francis was born in 1182. ^ To procure suitors for her. 
 ( *When Caesar knocked at the door of Amyclas his voice caused no alarm, 
 / because poverty made the fisherman secure. — Lucan, " Pharsalia," v. 515 ff. 
 / '^ In the hearts of those who beheld them. 
 
 ^ The followers of Francis imitated him in going barefoot. 
 
PARADISE. 223 
 
 and ran following such great peace, and, running, it seemed 
 to him that he was slow.^ Oh, unknown riches 1 oh, fertile 
 good ! Egidius bares his feet and Sylvester bares his feet, 
 following the bridegroom ; so pleasing is the bride. Then 
 that father and that master goes on his way with his lady, and 
 with that family which the humble cord has now girded " 
 (" Par.," canto xL). 
 
 He further refers to the approval given to the Franciscan 
 order by Popes Innocent and Honorius ; how St. Francis in 
 thirst for martyrdom went to preach the faith to the Moham- 
 medans of Egypt, and how he returned to Italy only " to take 
 from Christ the last seal, which his limbs bore for two years " 
 viz., the stigmata ; and finally : " When it pleased Him, who 
 had allotted him to such great good, to draw him up to the 
 reward which he had gained in making himself abject, he 
 commended his most dear lady to his brethren as to rightful 
 heirs, and commanded them to love her faithfully ; and from 
 her lap, his illustrious soul willed to depart, returning to its 
 realm ; and for his body he willed no other bier ". 
 
 St. Thomas concludes his eulogy in words which refer..to 
 the rapid decline in fervour of the Franciscan Order, a re- 
 ference which history justifies, but which can apply only to a 
 limited number of friars and a limited number of years. We 
 know there was no order the poet loved so ardently, and that 
 at his own request he was laid out on his death bed in the 
 habit of the Third Order of St. Francis. 
 
 " Think now of what sort was he, who was a worthy col- 
 league to keep the bark of Peter on the deep sea to its right 
 aim ; and this was our Patriarch : wherefore thou canst see 
 that whoever follows him as he commands loads good mer- 
 chandise. But his flock has become so greedy of strange 
 food that it cannot but be scattered over diverse meadows ; 
 
 ^ O ignota ricchezza, e ben verace ! 
 Scalzasi Egidio, e scalzasi Silvestro 
 Dietro alio sposo, si la sposa piace. 
 
^24 PARADISE. 
 
 and as his sheep, remote and vagabond, go farther from him, 
 the emptier of milk they return to the fold. Truly there are 
 some of them who fear the harm, and keep close to the 
 shepherd ; but they are so few that little cloth suffices for 
 their cowls." 
 
 After another round of the dance and the singing and 
 festivity a fresh voice becomes audible to the poet. It was 
 that of St. Bonaventure, who proceeded to deliver the eulogy 
 of St. Dominic in return for that of St. Francis proclaimed by 
 the Angelic Doctor. 
 
 " The love," he says, " which makes me beautiful draws me 
 to speak of the other leader by whom so well has been spoken 
 here of mine. It is fit that where one is the other be led in ; 
 so that as they served in war with one another, together like- 
 wise may their glory shine." 
 
 The following passage shows what little sympathy Dante 
 had for those who condemned the " Inquisition " and main- 
 tained that the Albigensians were all innocent lambs. 
 
 " The army of Christ, which had cost so dear to arm 
 afresh,^ was moving slow, mistrustful and scattered, behind the 
 standard, when the Emperor who for ever reigns provided for 
 the soldiery that was in peril, through grace alone, not because 
 it was worthy, and, as has been said, succoured His Bride with 
 two champions, by whose deed, by whose word, the people gone 
 astray were rallied. 
 
 " In that region where the sweet west wind rises to open 
 the new leaves wherewith Europe is seen to reclothe herself, 
 not very far from the beating of the waves, behind which, over 
 their long course, the sun sometimes hides himself to all men, 
 sits the fortunate Calaroga, under the protection of the great 
 shield on which the lion is subject and subjugates.^ Therein 
 was born the amorous lover of the Christian faith, the holy 
 
 ^ To redeem. 
 
 '^The shield of Castile, on which two lions and two castles are quartered, one 
 lion below and one above. 
 
PARADISE. 225 
 
 athlete, benignant to his own, and to his enemies harsh.-^ And 
 when it was created, his mind was so replete with living virtue, 
 that in his mother it made her a prophetess.^ After the 
 espousals between him and the faith were completed at the 
 sacred font, where they dowered each other with mutual safety, 
 the lady who gave the ascent for him saw in a dream the 
 marvellous fruit which was to proceed from him and from his 
 heirs ; and in order that he might be spoken of as he was, a 
 spirit went forth from here to name him with the possessive of 
 Him whose he really was. Dominic he was called ; and I 
 speak of him as the husbandman whom Christ elected to his 
 garden to assist him." 
 
 He next dwells upon the unworldliness of St. Dominic, 
 contrasting it with the spirit of his own day. He was not like 
 Henry of Susa and Thaddeus, toiling at Decretals night and 
 day, " but for the love of the true manna, he became in short 
 time a great teacher, such that he set himself to go about the 
 vineyard, which quickly fades if the vinedresser is bad ; and of 
 the Seat ^ which was formerly more benign unto the righteous 
 poor (not through itself but through him who sits there and 
 degenerates),* he asked not to dispense or two or three for 
 six, not the fortune of the first vacancy, non decimas, quae sunt 
 pauperum Dei^ but leave to fight against the errant world for 
 that seed ^ of which four-and-twenty plants are girding thee. 
 Then with doctrine and with will, together with the apostolic 
 office,'' he went forth like a torrent which a lofty vein pours 
 
 'St. Dominic, born in 1170. 
 
 * His mother dreamed that she gave birth to a dog, black and white in colour, 
 with a lighted torch in its mouth, which set the world on fire ; symbols of the 
 black and white robe of the Order, and of the flaming zeal of its brethren. 
 
 ' The Papal chair. 
 
 * The meaning is that the change is due not to the fault of the Church itself 
 but to that of the Pope. 
 
 ' " Not the tithes which belong to God's poor." 
 'The true faith ; " the seed is the word of God" (Luke viii. 11). 
 ' The authority conferred on him by Innocent III. 
 
 15 
 
226 PARADISE. 
 
 out, and on the heretical stocks his onset smote with most 
 vigour there where the resistance was the greatest. From him 
 proceeded thereafter divers streams wherewith the catholic 
 garden is watered, so that its bushes stand more living. 
 
 In fine, St. Bonaventure deplores, as St. Thomas had 
 already done in the case of the Franciscans, the decline of 
 religious fervour amongst the Dominicans, and winds up by 
 informing the stranger that in this same sphere are many 
 others, writers on sacred subjects — Hugh of St. Victor, Peter 
 Comestor, Chrysostom, Anselm, Donatus the grammarian, 
 Rabban Maur of Fulda, and Giocchimo, the prophet of 
 Calabria. 
 
 At the conclusion of the discourse of St. Bonaventure, and 
 further revolutions of the wheel, St. Thomas speaks ^ for the 
 third time, as holding most authority in the kingdom of 
 light. 
 
 He explains to the poet the nature of causation and of 
 necessary and contingent things, and warns the world against 
 self-sufficiency in the pursuit of truth, a warning which might 
 well be repeated at the present time. We should be slow in 
 committing ourselves to current opinions, " because it happens 
 oftentimes that they bend in false directions, and then the 
 inclination binds the understanding. Far more than vainly 
 does he leave the bank, since he returns not such as he sets 
 out who fishes for the truth and has not the art ; ^ and of 
 this are manifest proofs to the world Parmenides, Melissus, 
 Brissus, and many others who went on and knew not whither. 
 So did Sabellius and Arius,^ and those fools who were as 
 swords unto the Scriptures in making their straight faces 
 
 ' The souls are hidden in the light from which the voice is heard. They 
 shall become visible after the general judgment, when they shall be united to 
 their bodies. 
 
 ^ Because he returns not only empty-handed, but with his mind perverted. 
 
 ' Sabellius denied the Trinity, Arius denied the Consubstantiality of the 
 Son. 
 
PARADISE. 227 
 
 crooked. Let not the people still be too secure in judgment, 
 like him who reckons up the blades in the field ere they are 
 ripe. For I have seen the briar first show itself stiff and wild 
 all winter long, then bear the rose upon its top. And I have 
 seen a barque ere now run straight and swift across the sea 
 through all its course, to perish at last at entrance of the 
 harbour." When the voice of St. Thomas became silent, the 
 heavenly choir burst forth into a hymn of praise : — 
 
 " That One and Two and Three which ever lives, and ever 
 reigns in Three and Two and One, uncircumscribed, and 
 circumscribing everything, was thrice sung by each of those 
 spirits with such a melody that for every merit it would be a 
 just reward".^ 
 
 From the inner circle a modest voice is then uplifted, 
 probably that of King Solomon the Wise, who explains the 
 change that will take place when the souls shall be clothed in 
 their glorious and sanctified flesh. 
 
 The glow on the countenance of Beatrice, meanwhile, 
 heightens. New subsistences seem to float before the gaze 
 of the visitor. His eyes were overcome by the light, and 
 when he was able to open them again, he found himself 
 transferred to the fifth sphere. 
 
 THE FIFTH SPHERE : THE HEAVEN OF MARS. 
 
 CANTOS XIV.-XVIII. 
 
 The planet Mars is appropriately assigned to the heroes 
 of the crusades, and to those who fought for the true faith 
 so as to acquire great renown and become worthy of the 
 Muses. Conspicuous amongst them were Joshua, and Judas 
 
 ' Queir uno e due e tre, che sempre vive, 
 E regna sempre in tre e due ed uno, 
 Non circoscritto, e tutto circonscrive, 
 Tre volte era cantato da ciascuno 
 Di quelli spirti con tal melodia, 
 Ch' ad ogni merto saria giusto muno. 
 
228 PARADISE. 
 
 Maccabseus, Charlemagne and Roland, Godfrey de Bouillon 
 and Robert Guiscard. Here, too, appeared Cacciaguida, one 
 of Dante's ancestors, who had also been a crusader. As the 
 poet ascends nearer the eternal throne, the more mystic and 
 marvellous become his representations. Here a mystic cross 
 appears before him, flashing forth Christ, like nothing that the 
 mind can conceive. It is formed of countless blessed souls 
 sparkling so as to dazzle the strongest sight. 
 
 " From horn to horn ^ and between the top and the base 
 lights were moving, brightly scintillating as they met together 
 and in their passing by. Thus here ^ are seen, straight and 
 athwart, swift and slow, changing appearance, the atoms of 
 bodies long and short moving through the sunbeam, where- 
 with sometimes the shade is striped which people contrive 
 with skill and art for their protection. And as a viol or harp, 
 strung in harmony of many strings, makes a sweet tinkling to 
 one by whom the tune is not caught, thus from the lights 
 which there appeared to me a melody was gathered through 
 the Cross, which wrapt me without understanding of the 
 hymn. Truly was I aware that it was of holy praise, because 
 there came to me ' Arise and conquer ! ' as unto one who 
 understands not, and yet hears." 
 
 The only one of the lights of this sphere with which Dante 
 holds converse is that of his ancestor, Cacciaguida, who had 
 served in the third crusade, under Conrad of Swabia, and 
 thus deserved a place amongst the heroes of the holy wars. 
 Cacciaguida draws a beautiful picture of the simple life that 
 prevailed at Florence in his own days. The city was then 
 abiding, sober and chaste, within the circle from whose abbey 
 tower she heard the call to terce and none. She had then 
 no armlets, no necklaces, no glittering crowns, no dames with 
 ornamented shoes, no girdles 
 
 That &om the wearer drew the gazer's eye. 
 ' From arm to arm of the Cross. * On earth. 
 
PARADISE. 229 
 
 In those days no father grew pale at a daughter's birth 
 through concern for a dowry. There were then no houses 
 void of families. Sardinapalus had not yet arrived to teach 
 luxurious vice. Montemalo had not yet been surpassed in its 
 rise as it one day should be in its fall : — 
 
 I saw Bellincion Berti walk abroad 
 
 In leathern girdle, and a clasp of bone ; 
 
 And with no artful colouring on her cheeks, 
 
 His lady leave the glass. The sons I saw 
 
 Of Nerli and of Vecchio, well content 
 
 With unrobed jerkin : and their good dames handling 
 
 The spindle and the flax. O happy they ! 
 
 Each sure of burial in her native land. 
 
 And none left desolate abed in France. 
 
 One waked to tend the cradle, hushing it 
 
 With sounds that lulled the parent's infancy : 
 
 Another with her maidens drawing off 
 
 The tresses from the distalf, lectured them 
 
 Old tales of Troy and Fesole and Rome. 
 
 — Gary's Translation , canto xv. 
 
 In those days of virtuous simplicity it would have been as 
 great a marvel to witness the depravity of a Cianghella or 
 a Lapo Salterello ^ as it would be now to see again a Cincin- 
 natus or a Cornelia. 
 
 In such a tranquil, such a beautiful life and trusty citizen- 
 ship, Mary being called upon with loud cries, Dante's ancestor, 
 according to his own testimony, was ushered into the world ; 
 and — 
 
 In your ancient baptistery I was made 
 At once Christian and Cacciaguida. 
 
 The pride of blood is stirred in the poet as he sees the 
 glory of his ancestor, and when, with reverence, he addresses 
 him in the plural and not in the singular, he tells us that 
 Beatrice stood aside ^ and smiled, and seemed " like her who 
 
 ' Cianghella was a Florentine lady of ill repute whose worldly habits were 
 the scandal of her day. Lapo Saltarello belonged to Dante's own party and 
 served as Prior of the City immediately before the poet. He was a man of 
 depraved life, whose unprincipled conduct and loose morals were notorious. 
 
 2 Theology stands aside from this pride of ancestry. 
 
230 PARADISE. 
 
 coughed at the first fault that is related of Guinevere ".^ 
 Nevertheless the poet pursues his inquiries regarding the 
 family stock, and easily draws the rather talkative Cacciaguida 
 into a long discourse on his own descent, and on the vicissi- 
 tudes of the chief Florentine families who flourished in his 
 time. Questioned furthermore as to the poet's future, Caccia- 
 guida foretells his exile, the hardships that await him, the 
 hospitality to which he may look forward, and, finally, the 
 triumph of his poem and his permanent glory in the world. 
 
 Tu proverai si come sa di sale 
 
 Lo pane altrui, e com' e duro calle 
 
 Lo scendere, e '1 salir per 1' altrui scale. 
 E quel che piu ti gravera le spalle, 
 
 Saia la compagnia malvagia, e scempia, 
 
 Con la qual tu cadrai in questa valle : 
 Chfe tutta ingrata, tutta matta ed empia 
 
 Si fara contra te : ma poco appresso 
 
 Ella, non tu, n' avra rotta la tempia.^ 
 
 His first refuge, Cacciaguida tells him, will be found with 
 the great Lombard, Bartolomeo della Scala, "who on the 
 ladder bears the holy bird ".^ Here he shall win the friend- 
 ship of Can Grande, whose merits are extolled. This friend- 
 ship shall be some compensation to Dante for the enmity of 
 so many. " Yet," concludes Cacciaguida, " would I not that 
 
 'It is related in the romance of Lancelot that on the first occasion of 
 Lancelot's freedom with Queen Guinevere, Dame de Mallehault, one of the 
 Queen's attendants, coughed. 
 
 ^ Such as driven out 
 From Athens by his cruel step-dame's wiles 
 Hippolytus departed : such must thou 
 Depart from Florence . . . 
 
 Thou shalt leave each thing 
 Beloved most dearly ; this is the first shaft 
 Shot from the bow of exile. Thou shalt prove 
 How salt the savour is of other's bread ; 
 How hard the passage to descend and climb 
 By other's stairs. But that shall gall thee most 
 Will be the worthless and vile company 
 With whom thou must be thrown into these straits. 
 
 — Gary's Translation, canto xvii. 
 2 The imperial eagle. 
 
PARADISE. 231 
 
 thou hate thy neighbours, because thy life hath a future far 
 beyond the punishment of their perfidies." Now the eyes of 
 Beatrice became brighter and more joyful than ever. The 
 poet becomes suddenly aware that his circling through the 
 spheres had increased its arc ; and his passage to the sixth star, 
 to the heaven of Jupiter, was affected in as little time as it 
 takes a pale lady to recover from a blush. 
 
 THE SIXTH SPHERE : THE HEAVEN OF JUPITER. 
 
 CANTOS XVIII.-XXI. 
 
 In this new sphere the souls appear like sparks of brilliant 
 fire. He compares them to birds, risen from the river bank, 
 which, as if rejoicing over their food, make of themselves a 
 troop, at one time round, at one time into other shapes. They 
 were singing as they flew, and assumed in turn the shapes of all 
 the letters of the alphabet. " Diligite justitiam qui judicatis 
 Terram " was the theme of their song. By a sudden evolution 
 these sparks that rose, innumerable as when burning logs are 
 struck, form themselves into the shape of an eagle, and in the 
 figure of that sacred bird each soul appeared a little ruby on 
 which a ray of the sun glowed with the richest brilliancy. To 
 this emblematic bird Dante submits the difficulties that 
 puzzled him. His thoughts are thus interpreted for him. 
 
 " A man is born on the bank of Indus and no one is there 
 who may speak of Christ, nor who may read, nor who may 
 write ; and all his wishes and acts are good so far as human 
 reason sees, without sin in life or in speech. He dies un- 
 baptised, and without faith : where is this Justice which con- 
 demns him ? where is his sin if he does not believe? " 
 
 To which the answer is readily made : " The primal Will, 
 which of Itself is good, never is moved from Itself, which is the 
 Supreme Good. So rrluch is just as is accordant to It ; no 
 created good draws It to itself, but It, raying forth, is the 
 cause of that good." 
 
232 PARADISE. 
 
 And furthermore the eagle continues : " To this kingdom 
 no one ever ascended, who had not believed in Christ either 
 before or after He was nailed to the tree. But behold, many- 
 cry Christ, Christ, who, at the Judgment, shall be far less 
 near to Him than such an one who knew not Christ ; and the 
 Ethiop will condemn such Christians when the two companies 
 shall be divided, the one for ever rich, and the other poor. 
 What will the Persians be able to say to your kings, when 
 they shall see that volume open in which are written all their 
 dispraises? "^ 
 
 Amongst those who shall have to bear the shame of such 
 a contrast are Albert of Austria, who devastated Bohemia in 
 1 303 ; Philip the Fair, who debased the coin of France ; the 
 Scot and the Englishman, "who could not keep within 
 
 1 Dante's reply to the difficulty is in general accord with the teaching of St. 
 Thomas who says : — 
 
 " Si qui tamen salvati fuerunt quibus revelatio non fuit facta non fuerunt 
 salvati absque fide Mediatoris ; quia etsi non habuerunt fidem explicitam, 
 habuerunt tamen fidem implicitam in divina providentia, credentes Deum esse 
 liberatorem hominum secundum modos sibi placitos, et secundum quod aliquibus 
 veritatem cognoscentibus spiiitus revelasset, secundum illud" (Job. xxxv. 11), 
 ' Qui docet nos super jumenta terrae ' ". 
 
 As to the objection against God's justice he says (i, a'e Quasst. xc, 
 Art. iv.) :— 
 
 " Acceptio personarum locum habet in his quas ex debito dantur ; in his vero 
 quas ex gratuita voluntate conferuntur, acceptio personarum locum non habet. 
 Non enim est personarum acceptor qui ex liberalitate de suo dat uni, et non 
 alteri : sed si esset dispensator bonorum communium et non distribueret aequaliter 
 secundum merita personarum, esset personarum acceptor. Salutaria autem 
 beneficia Deus humano generi confert ex sua gratia ; unde non est personarum 
 acceptor si quibusdam prse aliis conferat. Unde Augustinus dicit : ' Omnes 
 quos Deus docet, misericordia docet; quos autem non docet, judicio non docet'. 
 Hoc enim venit ex damnatione humani generis pro peccato primi parentis." 
 
 Finally, those who observe the natural law and place no obstacle in the way 
 of grace are sure to be illumined : — 
 
 " Hoc ad divinam providentiam pertinet ut cuilibet provideat de necessariis 
 ad salutem dummodo ex parte ejus non impediatur. Si enim aliquis taliter (in 
 sylvis) nutritus ductum naturalis rationis sequeretur in appetitu boni et fuga mali 
 certissime est tenendum quod ei Deus vel per internam inspirationem revelaret 
 ea quae sunt ad credendum necessaria, vel aliquem fidei praedicatorem ad eum 
 dirigeret, sicut misit Petrum ad Cornelium'' (Quaest. xiv., de Verit., Art. ii.). 
 
 To the case proposed by Dante theologians also apply in a certain sense 
 the axiom : " Facienti quod in se est Deus non denegat gratiam ". 
 
PARADISE. 2S3 
 
 bounds " (a reference to the wars of the Edwards with Wallace 
 and Bruce) ; Ferdinand IV. of Castile, and Wenceslaus IV. 
 of Bohemia (who never knew what valour was), and several 
 others. 
 
 The most sparkling of all the gems that go to deck out 
 this mystic eagle are those which adorn his eye. King David, 
 who sang the Holy Spirit and bore the Ark from town to 
 town, occupies the middle, as the pupil. Of the five which en- 
 circled the brow, the first was Trajan, who consoled the poor 
 widow for her son ; the second was King Hezekiah,^ who walked 
 before God in truth and with a perfect heart, and whose days 
 were prolonged in response to his prayer. The third was Con- 
 stantine, who, with good intention, yielded Rome to the Pastor, 
 and transferred the Empire to Constantinople. The fourth 
 was William II., son of Robert Guiscard. Rhipeus, the 
 Trojan,^ was the fifth, surprising though it might appear to 
 those down in the erring world. Surprising it certainly is to 
 find not only Rhipeus here, but also Trajan, both pagans, who 
 seemingly had no more claim to a place in Paradise than Virgil 
 or Aristotle. Dante, however, gives us the clue to the expla- 
 nation in both cases. There was a legend current in his own 
 time to the effect that St. Gregory the Great prayed that 
 Trajan, because of his natural goodness, might be restored to 
 life long enough for his will to be turned to God and to pro- 
 fess his faith in Christ. Dante, with true poetic instinct, falls 
 back on this legend, and tells us that Hadrian in believing 
 was kindled with such fire of earnest love that he was called 
 to this high place in the sixth sphere. As for Rhipeus, who 
 died before the coming of Christ, he, like Cato in Purgatory, 
 is an example of the effects of the infinite power and mercy of 
 God, whose ways are inscrutable and whose grace is boundless. 
 
 ' 2 Kings XX, 
 
 ^ Cadit et Ripheus, justissimus unus 
 Qui fuit in Teucris, et servantissimus aequi. 
 
 — " Aeneid," ii., 426-427. 
 
234 PARADISE. 
 
 Rhipeus had set all his love on righteousness down below, 
 " wherefore from grace to grace God opened his eyes to our 
 future redemption, so that he believed in it, and thenceforth 
 endured no more the stench of paganism and reproved there- 
 fore the perverse folk. More than a thousand years before 
 baptism was instituted those three ladies,^ whom thou sawest 
 at the right wheel,^ were to him for baptism." Rhipeus, there- 
 fore, had, according to the poet, implicit faith, which is the 
 least that is required for salvation. 
 
 THE SEVENTH SPHERE : THE HEAVEN OF SATURN. 
 CANTOS XXI., XXII. 
 
 In the seventh sphere, the heaven of Saturn, we find the 
 saints of the contemplative life — St. Peter Damian, St. Bene- 
 dict, St. Macarius the anchorite of the desert ; St. Romuald, 
 founder of the Camaldoli, and countless others. Here the 
 beauty of Beatrice becomes so resplendent that she cannot 
 even smile lest the effulgence of her countenance should dazzle 
 the poet beyond endurance, and his mortal power would 
 become as a bough "shattered by the thunder". The sym- 
 phony of heaven is also silent, lest the poet should be entirely 
 overcome by the sweetness of its sounds. Here is to be seen 
 a ladder of gold ascending so high that its summit is lost to 
 view. Down the steps of this ladder so many splendours 
 descend that all the shining lights of heaven seemed to be 
 there diffused.^ And, like rooks at the beginning of the day, 
 
 ^ Faith, Hope and Charity. 
 
 ' Of the chariot representing the Church.—" Purg.," xxix. 
 
 ^ The ladder of gold denotes the perfection of the contemplative life above 
 all others, as gold is the most precious of all metals. The symbol of the ladder 
 is taken from St. Bernard, who says : " In summitate hujus scalae sunt contem- 
 plativi jam quasi in coelo positi quia coelestia cogitant. Isti sunt angeli Dei per 
 scalam ascendentes quia ascendunt per contemplationem ad Deum et descendant 
 per compassionem ad proximum. . . . Activa vita innocentia est honorum operum : 
 contemplativa vita est speculatio supernorum." — " De Modo bene Vivendi." See 
 also Dante's "Ten Heavens," by Edmund Gardner, pp. 152, 153. 
 
PARADISE, 235 
 
 they move about together ; some go away without return, 
 others wheel round in the direction whence they came ; others 
 stay in the vicinity of the poet. One of these now comes 
 forward to converse with him. It is St. Peter Damian, who 
 gives the following account of himself : — 
 
 "Between the two shores of Italy, and not very distant 
 from thy native land, rise rocks so lofty that the thunders 
 sound far lower down, and they make a height which is called 
 Catria, beneath which a hermitage is consecrated which is 
 wont to be devoted to worship only.^ Here in the service of 
 God I became so steadfast that, with food of olive juice alone, 
 lightly I used to pass the heats and frosts, content in con- 
 templative thoughts. That cloister was wont to render in 
 abundance to these heavens ; and now it is become so empty 
 as needs must soon be revealed. In that place I was Peter 
 Damian, and Peter a sinner had I been in the house of Our 
 Lady on the Adriatic shore. Little of mortal life was remain- 
 ing for me when I was sought for and dragged to that hat 
 which ever is passed down from bad to worse. Cephas came, 
 and the great vessel of the Holy Spirit came, lean and bare- 
 foot, taking the food of whatsoever inn. Now the modern 
 pastors require one to hold them up on this side and that, and 
 one to lead them, so heavy are they, and one to support them 
 behind. They cover their palfreys with their mantles, so that 
 two beasts go under one skin. O Patience, that endurest so 
 much ! " 
 
 To this last exclamation Ginguene adds another most 
 appropriate one: "O anger, canst thou make so great a 
 genius descend so low ? " ^ 
 
 The next of these blessed souls to speak with the poet is 
 St. Benedict. He was the most brilliant of all the pearls that 
 
 ^ Catria is a high offshoot to the east from the chain of the Apennines, 
 between Urbino and Gubbio. Far up on its side lies the monastery of Santa 
 Croce di Fonte Avellana, belonging to the order of the Camaldulensians. 
 
 ^ " Histoire Litteraire d'ltalie," torn, ii., p. 229. 
 
236 PARADISE. 
 
 shone there and shed their light on one another. This is how 
 he tells about his life on earth : — 
 
 " That mountain, on whose slope Cassino is, was of old 
 frequented at its summit by the deluded and ill-disposed 
 people, and I am he who first carried up thither the name of 
 Him who brought to earth the truth which so high exalts us ; 
 and such grace shone upon me that I drew away the sur- 
 rounding villages from the impious worship which seduced the 
 world ". Like St. Thomas and St. Bonaventure, St. Benedict 
 laments the decay in religious fervour that now distinguishes 
 the life on earth. Such repeated and bitter attacks on the 
 rulers of the Church in his day seem entirely out of place in 
 this heavenly region, where all is charity and praise. Never- 
 theless they supply something of the human element to a 
 work which would otherwise transcend, in far too great a 
 degree, the powers of earthly readers. 
 
 At the end of his speech St. Benedict returned to his 
 companions, whereat the company closed up, and, like a 
 whirlwind, ascended the golden stairs. ^ Beatrice and Dante 
 hasten to follow them upwards, and " never," says the poet, 
 " was there motion so rapid, that it could be compared unto 
 my wing ''. He indulges the fond hope that he may ascend 
 as quickly when it comes to the final triumph for the sake 
 of which he often " bewailed his sins and smote his breast ". 
 As quickly as one draws one's finger from the fire, he was 
 elevated to the eighth sphere, the heaven of the fixed stars, 
 and found himself within the constellation of the Gemini — 
 the constellation under which he had been ushered into the 
 world. At the suggestion of Beatrice, he now casts back a 
 glance on the spheres through which he has passed. He saw 
 
 1 Quocumque pergis Virgines 
 Sequuntur, atque laudibus 
 Post te canentes cursitant, 
 Hymnosque dulces personant. 
 
 — Hymn in the Office of Virgins in the 
 Roman Breviary. 
 
PARADISE. 237 
 
 them all displayed before him, how great they were, and how 
 swift. In the midst of them how mean the earth appears. 
 He sees it all from its harbours to its hills, and approves 
 " the counsel which holds it of least account ". It is like 
 a little threshing-floor when viewed from the eternal Twins. 
 
 THE EIGHTH SPHERE : THE HEAVEN OF THE 
 FIXED STARS. 
 
 CANTOS XXII.-XXVII. 
 
 Beatrice was now for a short time like a bird amidst the 
 boughs before daybreak, leaving her nest and perching about 
 upon the branches, eagerly awaiting the light of the sun in 
 order to provide for the wants of her little ones. But the Sun 
 which she expected was Christ Himself, and here, for the 
 first time, Dante gets a glimpse of the Lord of Hosts. 
 
 " As in clear skies Trivia smiles among the eternal 
 nymphs who paint the heaven through all its depths, I saw, 
 above myriads of lights, a Sun that was enkindling each and 
 all of them, as ours kindles the supernal snows, and through 
 its living light the lucent substance shone so bright upon 
 my face that I sustained it not" (canto xxiii.). Beatrice tells 
 him that " this is the Wisdom and the Power which opened 
 the roads between heaven and earth, for which there had 
 been already such long desire ". Here, too, the poet gets a 
 first glimpse of the Blessed Virgin, whose apotheosis now 
 begins. Here she is the " Rosa Mystica," " the fair flower 
 whom I invoke morning and evening," and is surrounded by 
 the Apostles and the " other lilies by whose odour the good 
 way was taken ". Dante, whose eyes were powerless to 
 endure the sight of the glorified body of Christ, can now look 
 without being stricken blind on those whom the light of 
 Christ illumines.^ 
 
 'Quoniam apud te est fons vitse, et in lumine tuo videbimus lumen." — 
 Psalm XXXV. lo. 
 
^38 PARADISE. 
 
 The momentary glimpse of Christ seems also to have re- 
 stored to him the power of listening to the harmonies of 
 heaven ; for now he hears a heavenly chorus sung by all 
 these souls as they follow the Redeemer and the Virgin to- 
 wards the sphere above. And as a little child which, when it 
 has taken the milk, stretches its arms toward its mother, 
 through the spirit that flames up outwardly, each of these 
 white splendours stretched upward with its summit, so that the 
 deep affection which they had for Mary was manifest to me. 
 Then they remained there in my sight, singing " Regina coeli " 
 so sweetly that never has the delight departed from me. Oh, 
 how great is the plenty that is heaped up in those most rich 
 chests which were good labourers in sowing here below ! Here 
 they live and enjoy the treasure that was acquired while weep- 
 ing in the exile of Babylon, where the gold was left aside.^ 
 
 From the ranks of the blessed spirits, who rejoice in the 
 train of Christ and the Virgin, some come forward to speak to 
 the poet : St. Peter examines him on faith, St. James on hope, 
 and St. John on charity, ^ the three virtues by which man can 
 prepare himself to become a member of Christ's triumphant 
 host. In reply to St. Peter, he says, with St. Paul, that 
 ^' Faith is the substance of things to be hoped for and evidence 
 of things that appear not ".^ He explains what he understands 
 by "substance" and by "evidence" and tells how he has 
 acquired both : — 
 
 "The abundant rain of the Heavenly Spirit, which is 
 diffused over the old and over the new parchment, is a 
 syllogism which has proved it to me so acutely that in com- 
 parison with it every demonstration seems to me obtuse ". 
 
 1 Visio nostra vel requies erit utcunque similis vision! vel requiei illius ; sed 
 aequalis non erit. Nam aliquo modo a nobis imus in ipsum, et jam hoc ipsum 
 ire nostrum minus est requiescere, et tamen sic ire perfecte requiescere est. . . . 
 Nee exsortes sumus ejus quem imitari possumus: quia et videntes participamus, 
 «t participantes imitamur " (St. Greg. Magnus, Moral, i., xviii., 93). 
 
 ^See Dante's "Ten Heavens," by Edmund Gardner, p. 173. 
 
 ' Heb. xi. 1. 
 
PARADISE. 239 
 
 That the doctrines of Scripture really are what God has 
 revealed has been proved by miracles ; and he adds with St. 
 Augustine : — 
 
 " If the world were converted to Christianity without 
 miracles, this alone is such that the others are not the 
 hundreth part ". The poet concludes with this beautiful pro- 
 fession of faith : — 
 
 " I believe in one God, sole and eternal, who, unmoved, 
 moves all the heavens with love and with desire ; and for such 
 belief have I not only proofs physical and metaphysical, but 
 that truth also gives it to me which hence rains down through 
 Moses, through prophets, and through Psalms, through the 
 Gospel, and through you who wrote after the fiery Spirit made 
 you holy. And I believe in three Eternal Persons, and these 
 I believe one essence, so one and so threefold that it will admit 
 to be conjoined with are and is. Of the profound divine con- 
 dition on which I touch, the evangelic doctrine ofttimes sets 
 the seal upon my mind. This is the beginning ; this is the 
 spark which afterwards dilates to vivid flame, and like a star 
 in heaven scintillates within me." 
 
 From the passage which follows it would appear that 
 Dante cherished the hope of being allowed to return to 
 Florence in consideration of 
 
 the Sacred Poem 
 To which heaven and earth have set their hand 
 So that it many a year that made me lean. 
 
 In which case he would take the laurel crown at his 
 baptismal font, thus solemnly declaring the christian character 
 and object of his poem. Meanwhile St. Peter, on account of 
 the profession he makes of that baptismal faith, now places the 
 crown upon his head. 
 
 Another light then comes forward to join the first vicar 
 whom Christ had left on earth. Beatrice announces him by 
 saying " Look, look ! behold the Baron for whose sake Galicia 
 is visited there below". It was, therefore, St. James, the 
 
240 PARADISE. 
 
 elder, who, according to tradition, was buried at Compostella 
 in Spain, and whose tomb attracted pilgrims from all parts of 
 the world. When he joins St. Peter the mutual affection of 
 the two apostles is at once displayed : — 
 
 " Even as when the dove alights near his companion, and 
 one, turning and cooing, displays its affection to the other, so 
 by the one great Prince glorious I saw the other greeted, 
 praising the food which feasts them there above". 
 
 Dante at this point falls into an error which was common 
 in his time, viz., that of attributing the canonical epistle of 
 St. James to St. James the son of Zebedee, instead of St. 
 James, " the brother of the Lord," who was its real author ; 
 for Beatrice, in asking the Apostle to examine Dante on hope, 
 is made to speak of him as " the illustrious life by whom the 
 largess of our basilica is written," an allusion to the words in 
 the epistle of St. James, " every good gift and every perfect 
 gift comes down from the Father of Light," the basilica being 
 the court of heaven. St. James at once sets the visitor at his 
 ease, and then proceeds to question him on hope. Dante 
 gives Peter Lombard's definition, " Hope is a sure expectation 
 of future glory, which divine grace produces, and preceding 
 merit "} He then relates how this hope was first instilled into 
 him by the Psalms of David and by St. James' own epistle. 
 He also tells what he expects as the object of this virtue : — 
 
 " Of the souls whom God has made his friends, Isaiah says 
 that each shall be clothed in his own land with a double 
 garment, and his own land is this sweet life. And thy 
 brother far more explicitly where he treats of the white 
 robes." ^ 
 
 The psalm " Sperent in te" was heard in chorus at the 
 end of the examination, exhorting mankind to confidence in 
 God. To this the saints of the whole firmament make a 
 
 1 " Sententiarum," liber iii., distinctio xxvi. 
 
 "This is an allusion to chapter vii. of the Apocalypse of St. John. 
 
PARADISE. 241 
 
 joyful response. Then one of the souls becomes brighter than 
 the rest, and comes forward to join St. Peter and St. James. 
 This is how Dante describes his arrival : — 
 
 " And as a glad maiden rises and goes and enters into the 
 dance, only to do honour to the new bride, but not for any 
 fault, so saw I the brightened splendour come to the other 
 two who were turning in a wheel such as was befitting to their 
 ardent love. It set itself there into the song and into the 
 measure, and my lady kept her gaze upon them, even as a 
 bride, silent and motionless." 
 
 Beatrice informs Dante who the new-comer is. " This is 
 he who lay upon the breast of our Pelican, and from upon the 
 cross this one was chosen to the great office."^ The poet 
 strains his sight in order to see if the body of the saint is 
 there as well as the soul — a covert allusion to " the saying 
 that went abroad among the brethren, that that disciple 
 should not die" (St. John xxi. 22, 23). But his curiosity 
 was too daring. He was simply dazzled beyond endurance, 
 and when the motion that produced such a brilliant flame 
 subsided he could not even see Beatrice who was at his side. 
 
 St. John then tells him that Beatrice has the power of 
 Ananias to restore his sight which for the moment is bewildered 
 but not dead. Meanwhile the Evangelist wishes to know 
 what is the supreme object of his love. Dante replies that 
 whether his love be great or small, God alone is its " Alpha 
 and its Omega". He further explains how the Supreme 
 Good must necessarily engender love and claim it as its own, 
 and that creatures may be loved only in so far as they reflect 
 the goodness of the Creator. 
 
 ' ' For the existence of the world and my own existence, 
 the death that He endured that I may live, and that which 
 
 ' Questi e colui che giacque sopra il petto 
 Del nostro Pellicano, e questi fue 
 D' in sulla croce al grande uficio eletto. 
 
 "Par.," can. xxv., 112, 114. 
 16 
 
242 PARADISE. 
 
 all the faithful hope even as I do, together with the aforesaid 
 living knowledge, have drawn me from the sea of perverted 
 love, and have set me on the shore of the right, the leaves 
 wherewith all the garden of the Eternal Gardener is enleaved, 
 I love in proportion as good is borne into them from Him." 
 
 In approval of this declaration the heavens all resounded 
 with the sweet song of " Holy, Holy, Holy," Beatrice joining 
 with the other Blessed Spirits. 
 
 Then, like one awakening from sleep, and for a moment 
 confused by the sudden rush of light, the poet recovers his 
 vision, Beatrice removing every mote from his eyes with the 
 radiance of her own, so that henceforth he sees better than 
 before. 
 
 No sooner has he regained his sight than he perceived a 
 fourth light with the other three, and is informed by Beatrice 
 that this new comer is our first parent, Adam. Dante addresses 
 him : " O Apple, that alone wast produced mature, O ancient 
 Father, to whom every bride is daughter and daughter-in-law, 
 devoutly as I can, I supplicate thee that thou , speak to me ; 
 thou seest my wish, and in order to hear thee quickly, I do 
 not tell it". 
 
 Adam satisfies his wish, telling him how long he spent in 
 the terrestrial paradise, the true cause of his downfall, and the 
 language which he spoke on earth, as well as the total length 
 of his early life and of his imprisonment in Limbo after his 
 death. At the end of this conversation the heavens resounded 
 with the song of praise, and the poet is overcome with the joy, 
 the ineffable gladness, the ever-blissful peace that reign all 
 around him. What he saw was like a smile of the universe. 
 
 But suddenly the scene changes : a sort of eclipse comes 
 over the heavens. St. Peter has already changed colour, and 
 the red glare of his countenance is reflected on the others. 
 The Prince of the Apostles then proceeds to denounce the 
 abuses of the Holy See, which gives the poet an opportunity 
 of venting all his rage against Pope Boniface, and against John 
 
PARADISE. 243 
 
 XXII. and Clement V. There is a great difference, however, 
 between the denunciations of Dante and those of the reformers ; 
 for Dante refers back to the Popes whom he regarded as 
 models. 
 
 Not to this end was Christ's spouse with my blood 
 
 With that of Linus and of Cletus fed 
 
 That she might serve for purpose of base gold, 
 
 But for the purchase of this happy life 
 
 Did Sextus, Pius and Callixtus bleed 
 
 And Urban. 
 
 — Gary's Translation, canto, xxvii. 
 
 Even though the rulers of the church were all that he 
 represents them, it is not in rebellion and schism the remedy 
 is to be found, but in the renewal of the spirit and in the 
 action of " that High Providence which with Scipio defended 
 for Rome the glory of the world ". 
 
 The four lights that had conversed with the poet now take 
 flight through the adorned ether. He compares their ap- 
 pearance as they ascend to that of the snowflakes that come 
 down through the air to our earth in midwinter. He gazes at 
 them for a moment ; but soon they are out of sight. Once 
 more he casts down a glance to earth and could see the 
 " mad track of Ulysses " away between Cadiz on the one side 
 and the shores of Phcenicia on the other. At a glance from 
 Beatrice, however, he tears himself away from " the fair nest 
 of Leda " and ascends to the " Primum Mobile," or ninth 
 sphere. 
 
 THE NINTH SPHERE : THE CRYSTALLINE HEAVEN. 
 
 CANTOS XXVII.-XXX. 
 
 The poet has now reached the sphere which receives its 
 impulse directly from the mind of the Mover of all things, 
 and which communicates motion and life to the whole uni- 
 verse underneath. The revolutions of all the inferior worlds 
 are measured and apportioned by this one, "even as ten by 
 
244 PARADISE. 
 
 a half and by a fifth ". The centre of this vast sphere was 
 " a Point which was raying out light so keen that the sight 
 on which it blazes must needs close because of its intense 
 keenness ". On that Point heaven and all nature are depend- 
 ent. Around it, as in a halo, nine circles are whirling, with a 
 swiftness that surpasses the greatest rapidity of the other 
 spheres. And the nearer the circles are to the pure spark, 
 the clearer was their flame because of the burning love by 
 which they were spurred around. Everything here is in 
 marvellous agreement with the intelligence which sets it 
 going. As soon as Beatrice had explained to the poet the 
 plan and disposition of parts in this heavenly motor, he sees 
 sparks issue on all sides from the circles round the Point. 
 
 He then heard " Hosannah " sung from choir to choir and 
 directed to the centre. Beatrice explains to him that these 
 are the angelic hosts who rule the world under the sway 
 of the Almighty. In the first triad of circles, nearest to the 
 centre, are the Seraphim, the Cherubim and the Thrones. 
 In the next three are the Dominations, Virtues and Powers. 
 Then follow the Principalities and Archangels. The outer 
 circle is occupied entirely by the angels. This was the 
 division of the angelic hosts according to the work on 
 " The Celestial Hierarchy," attributed to St. Denis, the Areo- 
 pagite, and substantially also according to the teaching of 
 St. Gregory. 
 
 Beatrice now satisfies the desire of Dante to learn all about 
 the origin and nature of these angelic beings. God did not 
 create them " for gain of good unto Himself," for that is 
 impossible, but " that His splendour might in resplendence 
 say subsisto ". In His own eternity, outside of time, outside 
 of limit, the Eternal Love disclosed Himself in new loves. 
 Time had no existence before the Creation. Form and 
 matter and the union of both came into being " as three 
 arrows from a three-stringed bow ". In other words, the 
 operations of the Creator, ad extra, are produced by the 
 
PARADISE. 245 
 
 Three Persons of the Blessed Trinity. From the beginning 
 order was concreate with existence. Substances purely active 
 were placed at the top of the world, and substances purely 
 passive at the foot. 
 
 St. Gregory Nazianzen had written that the angels were 
 created long before the rest of the world, and St. Jerome had 
 expressed a similar opinion. Beatrice contradicts this teach- 
 ing and says they were created with the rest of the universe, 
 of which they were to be the intelligences and rulers.^ She 
 then relates how Lucifer rebelled and dragged down so many 
 angels with him, whilst those who remained faithful are 
 now confirmed in grace. Down on earth it is taught in the 
 schools that the angelic nature understands and remembers 
 and wills. That, however, is a defective way of speaking. 
 For these angels enjoying the Beatific Vision see all things 
 reflected in the mind of Him Who made them. They do 
 not need because of divided thought to recollect. But below 
 men dream when not asleep. Some believe what they teach, 
 through ignorance and incapacity to lift their minds to higher 
 levels. Others teach it without believing it, which is far 
 worse. But what causes greater indignation in heaven is the 
 setting aside and perversion of the Divine Scripture. Men 
 do not remember how much blood it cost to sow it in the 
 world, and how eager the people are to be nourished with 
 its fruit. Now-a-days preachers are striving for appearances, 
 and make their own inventions, and the Gospel is silent. 
 
 " One says that the moon turned back at the passion of 
 Christ and interposed herself, so that the light of the sun 
 
 ' The Greek Fathers almost unanimously held that the angels were created 
 before the creation of the world. The Latin Fathers, on the other hand, with 
 the exceptions of St. Jerome, St. Ambrose and St. Hilary, held that the angels 
 formed part of the universe and were created simultaneously with time and 
 matter. This is the more probable opinion according to St. Thomas (" Summa," 
 la Qusest., Ixi., Art. iii.), and this is the opinion which Dante follows. Again, 
 St. Thomas shows how it is that angels do not need, because.of divided tho ught 
 to recollect, " Angeli non cognoscunt componendo et dividendo" (Qusest. Iviii.) 
 
246 PARADISE. 
 
 reached not down ; and others that the light hid itself of its 
 own accord, so that this eclipse answered for the Spaniards 
 and for the Indians as well as for the Jews. Florence hath 
 not so many Lapi and Bindi ^ as there are fables such as these 
 shouted the year long from the pulpits on every side ; so that 
 the poor flocks, who have no knowledge, return from the 
 pasture fed with wind ; and not seeing the harm does not 
 excuse them. Christ did not say to His first company, ' Go, 
 and preach idle stories to the world,' but He gave to them 
 the true foundation ; and that alone sounded in their cheeks, 
 so that in the battle for kindling of the faith they made shield 
 and lance of the Gospel. Now men go forth to preach with 
 jests and with buiifooneries, and provided only there is a good 
 laugh the cowl puffs up, and nothing more is required. But 
 such a bird is nesting in the tail of the hood, that if the crowd 
 could see it they would see the pardon in which they confide, 
 through which such great folly has grown on earth, that, with- 
 out proof of any testimony, men would flock to every indulgence. 
 On this the pig of St. Anthony fattens, and others also, who 
 are far more pigs, paying with money that has no stamp of 
 coinage." Ginguene^ thinks that this outburst against the 
 preachers and monks is out of place, and that when one 
 soars aloft in the Empyrean, in the midst of nine choirs of 
 angels, it is disgusting to be reminded of things so vile and 
 to be compelled to turn away one's eyes from Thrones and 
 Dominations in order to fix them on St. Anthony's pig. The 
 objection is fully justified, but some excuse may fairly be 
 offered for such an undignified lapse. The contemplation 
 of these heavenly spheres is too severe a tax on our weak 
 faculties unless it be relieved by considerations that relax the 
 tension. The higher one goes, and the more abstruse the 
 study, the greater is the need of reverting to things common- 
 place and concrete. 
 
 ' Common nicknames in Florence ; Lapo is from Jacopo, Bindo from 
 Ildebrando. -" Histoire Litteraire d'ltalie," tom. ii., p. 241. 
 
PARADISE. 247 
 
 The Empyrean. 
 
 CANTOS XXX.-XXXIII. 
 
 Now the Point which shone so brilliantly gathers in the 
 flame that played around it and little by little becomes invisible 
 to the poet's view. He turns to Beatrice for the explanation. 
 The beauty that he now saw shining from her countenance 
 transcends all human powers of conception. If all he had 
 said so far of her were condensed in a single phrase it would 
 fall short of what he now wishes to express. This, he con- 
 fesses, is the crisis of his theme ; and no comic or tragic poet 
 was ever vanquished so completely as he is in endeavouring 
 to externate what he had within. From the first day that he 
 saw her face on earth, even to this look, he has been able to 
 follow her with his song. Now at last he must desist. There 
 is a limit to the power of every artist. His arduous enterprise 
 is drawing to a close, and soon he must leave her to greater 
 heralds than himself. In this last stage of the great journey 
 she tells him : — 
 
 " We have issued forth from the greatest body to the 
 heaven which is pure light ; light intellectual, full of love, love 
 of true good, full of joy ; joy which transcends every sweet- 
 ness. Here thou shalt see one and the other host of Paradise ; ^ 
 and the one in those aspects which thou shalt see in the last 
 judgment."^ 
 
 Before him the poet sees a light in the form of a river 
 shining between two banks decked out with flowers. Out of 
 this stream living sparks were issuing and were setting them- 
 selves like rubies on every side. Then as if inebriated by the 
 perfume, they plunged again into the wonderful flood, and as one 
 entered another issued forth. Beatrice informs Dante that he 
 
 ' The spirits of those who were redeemed by the blood of Christ and fought 
 against the temptations of the world and the angels who fought against Lucifer. 
 ^ The elect of mankind will here be seen in their bodily shapes. 
 
248 PARADISE. 
 
 must drink of this water before he can understand the signifi- 
 cance of the scene before him. No babe that is wakened later 
 than usual ever sprang so hastily to its mother's milk as the 
 poet to the wave that was to reveal so much to him. He had 
 scarcely touched its water with his eyelids when the whole 
 scene is transformed into a nobler spectacle. He sees the two 
 courts of heaven stretching away before him (the angels repre- 
 sented by the sparks and the saints by the flowers). Here 
 there is a peculiar sort of light which makes the Creator visible 
 to the elect. It extends in a circle which would make too 
 wide a girdle for the sun. It is reflected from the point at the 
 summit of the " Primum Mobile ". And as a hill mirrors itself 
 in water at its base as if to see itself adorned rich as it is with 
 verdure and with flowers, he saw mirrored here the whole 
 company of the saints ; thousands of glorious seats are disposed 
 in concentric rounds as if on the leaves of some gigantic rose.^ 
 Beatrice says to him : " Behold how vast is the convent of the 
 white stoles. See our city, how wide its circuit. See our 
 benches, so full that few people are now awaited here. On that 
 great seat on which thou boldest thine eye because of the 
 crown which already is set above it, ere thou suppest at this 
 wedding feast will sit the soul of the high Henry who to set 
 Italy straight will come ere she is ready. This mention of 
 the Emperor brings once more to the poet's mind the base 
 passions of the world below, and here he has his last fling at 
 Pope Clement V., and at his predecessor. Pope Boniface VIII. 
 He does not dwell much, however, on these earthly conflicts, 
 but proceeds to describe the objects of his vision : — 
 
 " In form then of a pure white rose the holy host was 
 shown to me, which, in His own blood, Christ made His 
 bride ". 
 
 1 " Post hasc vidi turbam magnam, quam dinumerare nemo poterat, ex 
 omnibus gentibus et tribubus et populis et Unguis, stantes ante thronum, et in 
 conspectu Agni, amicti stolis albis, et palms in manibus eorum." — Apo- 
 calypsis, vii. 9. 
 
PARADISE. 249 
 
 Above this great rose the angels are flying about like a 
 vast swarm of bees, now tasting its sweet savour, now turning 
 up again to where their love abides. Their faces were like the 
 living flame, their wings of gold, and their forms whiter than 
 the driven snow. When they descended to the flower they 
 brought with them from seat to seat the peace and the ardour 
 of love which they obtained above : — 
 
 " And as a pilgrim who is refreshed in the temple of his 
 vow in looking round and hopes now to report how it was, so, 
 journeying through the living light I carried my eyes over the 
 ranks, now up, now down, and now circling about. I saw 
 faces persuasive to love, beautified by the light of Another, and 
 by their own smile and actions ornate with every dignity." 
 
 Having cast a glance over the whole form of Paradise, the 
 poet turned to Beatrice to inquire about matters which still 
 kept him in suspense. But Beatrice had disappeared. In her 
 place an old man was standing, robed, like the rest, in glory, 
 his eyes and cheeks overspread with benignant joy, pious in 
 his mien as becomes a tender father. This was St. Bernard. 
 Dante is startled at the disappearance of the beloved com- 
 panion who had led him so faithfully to the very highest 
 heaven. St Bernard informs him that she has gone to take 
 her place, in the third circle from the highest step, on the 
 throne which has been allotted to her. Dante lifts up his eyes 
 and sees her shining with intense brilliancy, crowned with a 
 diadem of eternal rays. The poet from afar addresses her his 
 last words of gratitude. For his sake she had endured to 
 leave her footprints down in hell. It was through her he was 
 enabled to see all that he had seen. She had drawn him 
 from bondage to liberty. As a last favour he puts it upon her 
 that his soul, when loosed from the body, should be pleasing 
 in her sight. She looked at him and smiled, and then turned 
 to the eternal fountain. 
 
 St. Bernard, the author of the " Vitis Mystica," is now 
 most appropriately entrusted with his guidance whilst he wit- 
 
^50 PARADISE. 
 
 nesses the triumph of Mary and contemplates the face of the 
 Almighty in the Beatific Vision. 
 
 " ' Son of Grace, this glad existence,' began he, 'will not be 
 known to thee holding thine eyes only below here at the 
 bottom, but look on the circles even to the most remote, until 
 thou seest upon her seat the Queen to whom this realm is 
 subject and devoted '. I lifted up my eyes ; and as at morning 
 the eastern parts of the horizon surpass that where the sun 
 declines, thus, as if going with my eyes from valley to moun- 
 tain, I saw a part on the extreme verge vanquishing in light 
 all the other front. And even as there where the pole which 
 Phaeton guided ill is awaited, the flame is brighter, and on 
 this side and that the light grows less, so that pacific ori- 
 flamme was vivid at the middle, and on each side in equal 
 measure the flame slackened. And at that mid part I saw 
 more than a thousand jubilant angels with wings outspread, 
 each distinct both in brightness and in act. I saw there, 
 smiling at their sports and at their songs, a Beauty which was 
 joy in the eyes of all the other saints. And if I had such 
 wealth in speech as in imagining, I should not dare to attempt 
 the least of its delightfulness. Bernard, when he saw my eyes 
 fixed and intent upon its warm glow, turned his own with such 
 affection to it that he made mine more ardent to gaze anew." 
 
 The saint then points out to Dante the personages of the 
 old and new dispensation who are seated around Mary's 
 throne. At her feet, on one side, in a direct line downwards, 
 were our first mother, Eve, Rachel, Beatrice, Sarah, Rebecca, 
 Judith, Ruth, and many other Hebrew women. In another 
 line, on the opposite side, are St John the Baptist, St. Francis, 
 St. Benedict, St. Augustine, etc. The lower tiers of seats are 
 occupied by children who died before they had come to the 
 use of reason. In the early centuries of the world, the faith 
 of parents together with innocence was sufficient to secure 
 the salvation of such children. Later on circumcision was 
 required for males, and finally baptism for all. 
 
PARADISE. 251 
 
 St. Bernard tells Dante to look well and intently into the 
 face of the Virgin, that his eyes may be the better able to 
 sustain the brilliancy of Christ. Such joy he had never seen 
 before in any countenance, nor such matchless beauty, nor 
 such likeness to God. His admiration knows no bounds when 
 he sees the Angel Gabriel fly down before her and repeat his 
 first salutation, "Ave Maria, gratia plena ! " and the blessed 
 court responded to the divine song, and new joy was shed on 
 every countenance. 
 
 St. Bernard again points out to the poet some of " the great 
 patricians of this just and pious empire ". Those who sit 
 nearest to the Empress, on her right and on her left, are 
 Adam, our first father, and St. Peter, the prince of the 
 apostles. Opposite Peter the chaste Anna was sitting, " so 
 content to gaze upon her daughter, that she moves not her 
 eyes while singing ' Hosannah ' ". Opposite Adam, on the 
 other side, sits St. Lucy, who had a part in the poet's rescue. 
 But there is no need to enumerate them all. Something of 
 higher import claims the poet's time. St. Bernard tells him 
 to direct his eyes to the First Love, so that looking towards 
 Him he might penetrate as far as possible through His 
 effulgence. But as a preparation for this final and crowning 
 vision he must have recourse to prayer in order to obtain 
 grace sufficient for so bold an enterprise. To whom should 
 his prayer be addressed but to her who has power to aid 
 him. To Our Lady, therefore, St. Bernard addresses this 
 holy supplication, which Dante follows with all the affection 
 of his heart : — 
 
 Thou Virgin Mother, daughter of thy Son, 
 Humble and high beyond all other creature. 
 The limit fixed of the eternal counsel 
 Thou art the one who such nobility 
 To human nature gave, that its Creator 
 Did not disdain to make Himself its creature. 
 Within thy womb enkindled was the love. 
 By heat of which in the eternal peace 
 After such wise this flower has germinated. 
 
252 PARADISE. 
 
 Here unto us thou art a noonday torch 
 Of charity, and below there among mortals 
 Thou art the living fountain head of hope. 
 Lady, thou art so great and so prevailing. 
 That he who wishes grace nor runs to thee, 
 His aspirations without wings would fly. 
 
 In thee compassion is, in thee is pity, 
 In thee magnificence ; in thee unites 
 Whate'er of goodness is in any creature ; 
 Now doth this man who from the lowest depth 
 Of the universe as far as here has seen. 
 One after one, the spiritual lives, 
 Supplicate thee through grace for so much power 
 That with his eyes he may uplift himself 
 Higher towards the uttermost salvation .^ 
 
 St. Bernard supports Dante's petition with an eagerness 
 he had never displayed on his own account. He asks not 
 only that Dante may be favoured by the vision of the Chief 
 Pleasure, but that his affections should ever afterwards be 
 preserved pure and unsullied. Joining in this prayer Beatrice 
 and all the other blessed ones clasp their hands as suppliants 
 before the Queen. The eyes of the Virgin show how pleasing 
 to her are devout prayers. She turns her gaze towards the 
 Eternal Light ; no eye so clear is turned by any creature. 
 Suddenly the poet feels that longing is at an end and all 
 desire consummated. No speech could adequately describe 
 his vision ; yet its sweetness is evermore distilled within his 
 heart. If only he could describe one single spark of that 
 glory, what a benefit it would be to those who are still on 
 
 'Vergine Madre, figlia del tuo Figlio,^ 
 Umile ed alta piii che creatura, 
 Termine fisso d' eterno consiglio, 
 Tu sei colei, che 1' umana natura 
 Nobilitasti si, che '1 suo Fattore 
 Non disdegno di farsi sua fattura 
 Nel ventre tuo si raccese 1' amore. 
 ' " O clementissima Virgo Maria, qui creavit te regnat in te, et in suo corpor- 
 aliter habitare figmento figulus non dedignatur." St. Bernard, " Tractatus ad 
 Laudem Gloriosas Virginis Matris " 
 
PARADISE. 253 
 
 earth. It is for this grace he pleads, not for the poet's crown 
 or for any other reward of his verses. The light of the 
 Divine countenance is so intense that no created eye could 
 sustain it, unless the author of its being gave it power : — 
 
 " In its depth I saw that whatsoever is dispersed through 
 the universe is there included, bound with love in one volume ; 
 substance and accidents and their modes, fused together, as it 
 were, in such wise that that of which I speak is one simple 
 light". 
 
 With mind wholly rapt, the poet remained gazing on this 
 light — fixed, motionless and intent. No other sight could 
 ever be preferred to this one, because all good is there collected 
 and whatever is defective outside is perfect there. This 
 Eternal Light never changes within itself; but according as 
 the poet's eye grew strong under its influence it seemed to 
 alter, but in reality only revealed itself more fully to his view. 
 
 " Within the profound and clear subsistence of the lofty 
 Light appeared to me three circles of three colours and of one 
 dimension ; and one appeared reflected by the other, as Iris 
 by Iris, and the third appeared fire which from the one and 
 from the other is equally breathed forth "} 
 
 But, oh, how feeble are words to picture what he saw ! 
 
 " O Light Eternal, that sole dwellest in Thyself, sole under- 
 standest Thyself, and, by Thyself understood and under- 
 standing, lovest and smilest on Thyself! That circle, which 
 thus conceived appeared in Thee as a reflected light, being 
 
 ' Nella profonda e chiaia sussistenza 
 
 Dell' alto lume parvemi tre giri 
 
 Di tre colori e d' una contenenza : 
 E r un dair altio, come Iri da Iri, 
 
 Parea reflesso e '1 terzo parea fuoco, 
 
 Che quinci e quindi igualmente si spiri. 
 O quanto e corto '1 dire, e come fioco 
 
 Al mio concetto ! e questo a quel ch' io vidi, 
 
 E tanto, che non basta a dicer poco. 
 luce eterna, che sola in te sidi. 
 
 Sola t' intendi, e da te intelletta 
 
 Ed intendente te ami ed arridi ! 
 
254, PARADISE. 
 
 somewhile regarded by my eyes, within itself, of its own very 
 colour, seemed to me depicted with our effigy, wherefore my 
 sight was wholly set upon it." ^ 
 
 Whilst the poet is striving, like a geometer who applies 
 himself to a problem and is puzzled by it, to understand how 
 human nature, whose effigy is there, was united to the Eternal 
 Word, a sudden flash of light illumines his mind and enables 
 him to see so much of that inscrutable mystery as is revealed 
 to any created intellect, even when it contemplates its Maker 
 face to face. 
 
 Here the vision ends. Dante was completely renewed in 
 spirit. His will was brought into complete harmony with the 
 will of Him who moves the sun and the other stars. 
 
 1 See Cardinal Franzelin. " De Deo Trino," p. 318. 
 
255 
 
 DANTE'S MINOR WORKS. 
 
 The works of minor importance which Dante has left us are 
 the "Vita Nuova," the " Convito," or "Convivio," the " De 
 Vulgari Eloquio," and the " De Monarchia ". Of his corre- 
 spondence, which must have been large, only a small number 
 of letters have been preserved. Alessandro Torri gives the 
 number as fourteen. Witte,i through the instrumentality of 
 Dr. Theodore Heyse, discovered nine of them in a Vatican 
 MSS. in the year 1837. One of these, however, had been 
 already published, and another was long known in translation. 
 Mr. Latham,^ an American Dantist, gives us the translation of 
 eleven of the letters which he considers genuine. Scartazzini ^ 
 applies the methods of genuine criticism to all these docu- 
 ments, with the result that he convinces himself, and goes 
 a good way towards convincing everybody who takes an 
 interest in the subject, that, of the fourteen letters attributed 
 to Dante, more than half are undoubtedly spurious. Six, 
 however, remain, and are generally accepted as having with- 
 stood all the tests of the critics. They are (i) the letter to 
 the princes of Italy on the occasion of the arrival of Henry 
 VII. ; (2) the letter to the Florentines on the same occasion ; 
 (3) the letter addressed to Henry himself in Lombardy ; (4) 
 the letter to the Italian Cardinals at the conclave at Carpen- 
 
 1 " Blatter fur Literaische Unterhaltung," 1838, pp. 149, 151. 
 
 ^ " A Translation of Dante's Eleven Letters." By Charles Sterrett Latham. 
 With a preface by Charles Eliot Norton. 
 
 ' See " Companion to Dante," from the German of G. A. Scartazzini. By 
 Arthur John Butler, 1893, pp. 341, 363. 
 
256 DANTE'S MINOR WORKS. 
 
 tras ; (5) the letter to the anonymous friend in Florence ; and 
 (6) the letter of dedication to Can Grande della Scala. 
 
 Of the odes, sestines, ballads and sonnets profusely attri- 
 buted to the poet, it is difficult to say how many are spurious 
 and how many genuine, always excepting, of course, those 
 of the " Vita Nuova " and the " Convito ". Fraticelli considers 
 twenty odes, three sestines, ten ballads and forty-four sonnets 
 as genuine. Scartazzini, however, throws doubt on many of 
 these ; and he rejects as absolutely spurious the " Laude in 
 onore di Nostra Donna," the " Penitential Psalms," and the 
 " Creed," as well as the treatise " De Aqui et Terra," whilst 
 he brushes aside as so much rubbish the " History of the 
 Guelphs and GhibelHnes " and a whole series of compositions 
 of various kinds attributed to the poet by the most discredited 
 of all writers on Dante — Mario Filelfo. 
 
 Here, then, we must confine ourselves to the four works 
 of real importance which all admit to be genuine, and which 
 cast a flood of light on the obscurities and the intricacies of 
 the " Divina Commedia ". 
 
 The "Vita Nuova". 
 
 "There is not in literature," writes Sir Theodore Martin,^ 
 "a. more remarkable contribution to the personal history of a 
 great man than the " Vita Nuova " of Dante. It is a chronicle 
 equally minute in analysis, and admirable in expression, of 
 emotions the most profound : a record of real life to which 
 there is nothing superior in romance. It traces the master 
 passion of the poet's life from its dawn through its first puri- 
 fying phases of reverence and affliction ; and not only is his 
 heart laid bare before us, but we are made, as it were, to see 
 the very processes by which his poetical genius wrought. 
 
 i"The Vita Nuova of Dante." Translated, with an introduction and 
 notes, by Sir Theodore Martin, K.C.B., p. vii. 
 
DANTE'S MINOR WORKS. 257 
 
 Every incident, every emotion, out of which his verses grew, 
 is there side by side with the verses themselves, and thus we 
 are enabled to trace the workings of his shaping spirit of 
 imagination, lifting the real into the ideal, or rather pouring 
 its own golden light around a beautiful reality." 
 
 It must be remembered, in considering this extraordinary 
 book, that the age in which it was written was the age of 
 symbols and allegories ; and although there is no good reason 
 to doubt the story of Boccaccio already related, that the 
 Beatrice of the " Vita Nuova " was the daughter of Folco 
 Portinari, it is quite certain that she is here transfigured and 
 intended as the representative of heavenly grace which gives 
 a new life to man and fills him with beatitude. We do not 
 mean to say that the daughter of Folco Portinari is an abso- 
 lute shadow ; that Dante never met her ; or that her natural 
 attractions had not captivated his mind and heart. Dante had 
 entered thoroughly into the spirit of the Provengal poets, and 
 shared to the full all the chivalrous tendencies of the age ; and 
 it is but natural to suppose that Beatrice was a real personage, 
 who had won his admiration, and whom he wished to make 
 the object of his chivalrous devotion. Yet the young Floren- 
 tine had no intention of remaining a mere troubadour. He 
 aimed at something higher ; and anybody who reads a short 
 summary of the "Vita Nuova" will readily perceive that the 
 allegory of the " Divine Comedy " is already inchoate in the 
 poet's first effusion. 
 
 The " Vita Nuova " was composed in its present shape 
 about the year 1292. Beatrice had died in 1290, and, in the 
 interval, Dante collected a certain number of the poems which 
 she had inspired during her lifetime and since her death. 
 These he arranged in chronological order, and having intro- 
 duced them in a sort of general preface, he accompanied them 
 with an elaborate commentary, which gives us a most valuable 
 insight into methods of procedure which reached their maturity 
 
 in the " Divine Comedy ". 
 
 17 
 
258 DANTE'S MINOR WORKS. 
 
 The preface opens with an account of the first meeting of 
 the two. He was close on his tenth year when the glorious 
 lady of his soul (who was a few months younger) was first 
 revealed to him. She is called Beatrice by many who knew 
 not why} Her apparel was of noble colour, a subdued and 
 becoming crimson ; and she wore a cincture and ornaments 
 befitting her tender years. The spirit of life now began to 
 tremble in the inmost chamber of his heart, and to dictate to 
 him the words : " Ecce Deus fortior me, qui veniens domina- 
 bitur mihi ". But whilst one part of his being proclaimed his 
 bliss — "Apparuit jam beatitudo vestra " — another warned him 
 of the trials this beatitude brought in its train. " Heu miser ! 
 quia frequenter impeditus ero deinceps." So praiseworthy was 
 she and so noble in her bearing, that of her might with truth 
 be said those words of the poet Homer : — 
 
 She of a god seemed born, and not of mortal man. 
 
 From the date of this first vision nine years had passed 
 away, when she appeared to him again, arrayed in the purest 
 white, between two noble ladies older than herself. On this 
 occasion she saluted him in the street as she passed. He was 
 so overcome with delight at her words that he broke away 
 from the company and retired to the solitude of his chamber ; 
 and as he mused a sweet sleep came over him, and he saw the 
 lady in a mystic vision, at the end of which she is carried off 
 to heaven in the arms of Love. Then Dante, according to the 
 custom of the time, proceeds to make all this known to the 
 poets of his acquaintance. Cino da Pistoia had extolled Sel- 
 vaggia, and Guido Cavalcanti had sung of Giovanna. Dante 
 was now about to celebrate a lady who would leave Giovanna 
 and Selvaggia in complete eclipse. 
 
 1 The words in the original are " la gloriosa donna della mia mente, la 
 quale fu chiamata da molti Beatrice, i quali non sapeano che si chamare". 
 These latter words are very obscure, but they are translated by D'Ancona and 
 Witte : " Many called her Beatrice who did not know what they were calling 
 her," i.e., who knew not the deep significance of the name. 
 
DANTE'S MINOR WORKS. 259 
 
 Having quoted for us and commented on the first of his 
 effusions, — 
 
 A ciascun' alma presa e gentil cor, — 
 
 he proceeds to narrate for us the circumstances in which he 
 next got sight of the lady of his heart.^ He saw her seated in 
 the church whilst he was listening to a discourse on the Queen 
 of Glory. In order, however, to baffle the gossips of Florence, 
 he pretended to be looking at another lady, who was in a 
 direct line between them, and who, somewhat to her own 
 annoyance, served as a "screen" {sckermo della veritade) for 
 the youthful lover. In this way he was able frequently to 
 gaze on Beatrice without attracting attention. Meanwhile he 
 tells us : "A wish arose within me to record the name of that 
 most gracious creature, and to associate it with the names of 
 many other ladies, and especially with hers of whom I have 
 spoken ; so taking the names of sixty of the most beautiful 
 ladies of that city, wherein the lady of my heart had been 
 placed by the Most High, I composed an epistle in the form 
 of a sirventese, which I shall not here transcribe ; indeed I 
 should not have made mention of it, but only to note the 
 marvel that befel in composing it — namely, that ninth in 
 order, and no otherwise, would the name of my lady stand 
 among the names of the ladies in question". 
 
 We are then informed that the " lady of the screen" left 
 the city, to Dante's great discomfiture ; for the loss of his 
 " beautiful defence," as he calls her, made his position some- 
 what difficult. He keeps up appearances, however, by 
 composing a sonnet in her honour ; and tries his hand at 
 another in memory of one of the companions of Beatrice. 
 Love then appeared to him in the garb of a pilgrim, and 
 ordered him to make a " screen " of another lady, whom 
 
 1 E in dimostrare questo sempre lo (senso) litterale dee andare innanzi, 
 siccome quello nella cui sentenza gli altri sono inchiusi, e senza lo quale saiebbe 
 impossibile e irrazionale intendere agli altri, e massimamente all' allegoiico. 
 
260 DANTE'S MINOR WORKS. 
 
 he mentioned. Dante obeyed, and thereby gave occasion to 
 such gossip in Florence, that Beatrice refused to notice him 
 when next they met. This caused him unspeakable misery ; 
 for he says : " Whenever and wherever she appeared, in the 
 hope of that most priceless salute, I had no longer an enemy 
 in the world, such a flame of charity was kindled within me 
 making me to forgive everyone who had done me wrong." 
 Now under the influence of his disappointment he composed 
 a ballad and a sonnet in both of which he gave vent to the 
 feelings that overpowered him. 
 
 Without proceeding farther, it will be seen that the story 
 is of no ordinary import. It is evidently a mixture of reality 
 and of allegory. The daughter of Folco Portinari is Beatrice, 
 but she is already transfigured, and every incident in the 
 narrative has a spiritual significance that does not appear on 
 the outside ; various writers have sought to draw off" the veil 
 and give us a glimpse of the substantial truth within. We 
 need not dwell here on the ravings of Aroux ^ nor on the 
 absurdities of Rossetti,^ whose fanatical hatred of the Church 
 led them to embrace theories of the wildest extravagance. 
 Neither do we accept the idealistic theories of Bartoli^ and 
 of Renier * who would make of Beatrice a pure symbol — the 
 symbol of womanhood in its ideal perfection ; nor of Biscioni ^ 
 or Gietmann,^ who take her as the type of wisdom or religion. 
 Least of all can we agree with the realistic theory which 
 regards the " Vita Nuova " as a mere love story, or as a 
 romance of the school of Provence. This theory has been 
 variously expounded to English readers by Leigh Hunt '' 
 
 ' " Dante, Heretique, R^volutionnaire, et Socialiste." Paris, 1854. 
 2"Sullo Spirito Antipapale che produsse la Riforma " and "Com. Anal.". 
 s"Vita di Dante Alighieri." Florence. 
 * " La Vita Nuova e La Fiammetta." R. Reinier. Torino. 
 ^ " Prefazione alle Prose di Dante." Firenze. 
 
 6 "Beatrice, Geist und Kern der Danteschen Dichtungen." Freiburg ira 
 Breisgau. 
 
 ' " Tales &om the Italian Poets." The Life and Genius of Dante. 
 
DANTE'S MINOR WORKS. 261 
 
 and by Sir Theodore Martin.^ Although their point of view is 
 very different we regard them as both equally distant from 
 the truth.2 
 
 That Beatrice was a personage of flesh and blood who in- 
 spired the poet's enthusiasm we think there can be no reason- 
 able doubt. That she was the daughter of Foico Portinari 
 seems to us, if not absolutely certain, at least highly probable. 
 That Dante followed the methods of his day and drew his 
 notions of chivalry and his mode of giving them expression 
 from the minstrels of Provence there is no gainsaying. But 
 that he rose above all this into a sphere to which the poets 
 who were his contemporaries did not even aspire, seems to us 
 beyond the possibility of doubt. The " Vita Nuova " is not 
 therefore a mere history of his youth. It is, as Scartazzini ' 
 truly says, "a poetical work of art". What is the higher 
 significance of the production ? That is the question. 
 
 Of all commentators on the "Vita Nuova," the one from 
 whom we have derived most satisfaction is Gietmann.* Not 
 that we can follow him to all his conclusions, or that we can 
 admit the validity of his theory as a whole. We see in the 
 story as it stands, a basis of fact ; but on that basis we see 
 erected a complex structure, in which the methods of the 
 " Divine Comedy," as explained to Can Grande, are already 
 adumbrated. In every incident and development of the 
 narrative we, therefore, find more senses than one. We find 
 a political sense, an idealistic sense, a moral sense, a spiritual 
 sense. Let us confine ourselves here to the spiritual sense 
 alone. 
 
 The first vision of Beatrice would correspond to the first 
 awakening of the soul to the beauty and the glory of religion. 
 Between religion and the ideal church, which is the depositary 
 
 • 1 " The Vita Nuova of Dante," p. 29. 
 
 'See Art. in " The Academy " of 26th April, i8go, by Miss R. H. Busk. 
 ' 2 " Companion to Dante," p. 285. Translated by Butler. 
 
 * " Beatrice, Geist und Kern der Danteschen Dichtungen." 
 
262 DANTE'S MINOR WORKS. 
 
 of its truths, comes the christian priesthood, which is symbolised 
 in the "lady of the screen ". The sixty maidens correspond 
 to the sixty queens of the " Canticle of Canticles," of whom 
 Solomon had said " My dove, my undefiled is but one ". The 
 second " screen " probably typifies the liturgy of the church, in 
 which the poet found comfort when his soul was unable of 
 itself to ascend to the contemplation of the invisible. The 
 refusal of the greeting by Beatrice indicates Dante's alienation 
 from theology, and his inclination to search for happiness, 
 with Guido Cavalcanti and other young men of his time, in 
 secular pursuits and profane philosophy. 
 
 Enough has been said to indicate the lines on which the 
 student must seek the true meaning of the "Vita Nuova''. 
 To take it literally would be nothing short of an absurdity. 
 To deny it any literal signification would be a greater absurdity 
 still. 
 
 " But she, crowned and clothed in humility, pursued her 
 way, testifying no triumph in what she saw and heard. Many 
 as she went by exclaimed : ' This is not a woman, but one of 
 the fairest of heaven's angels ! ' Others, ' Behold a miracle. 
 Blessed be the Lord in that He hath wrought so marvellously ! ' 
 I say, her demeanour was so full of grace and dignity and 
 every charm, that, looking upon her, men felt within them 
 an emotion of ineffable sweetness and elevation." 
 
 And so the story proceeds, with meetings, and with visions, 
 and with sonnets. The fever, however, is too much for the 
 poet. He becomes ill and wastes away, and only recovers 
 to face new trials, which reach a climax in the death of 
 Beatrice. " For the Lord of Justice summoned that most 
 gracious being to triumph under the banner of Mary, the 
 blessed Queen of Heaven, whose name was ever had in 
 deepest reverence by the lips of that sainted Beatrice." He 
 then proceeds to show how the root of Beatrice was the 
 adorable Trinity itself, a clear proof that Beatrice was a 
 symbol of the church or the papacy. He also tells us that, 
 
DANTE'S MINOR WORKS. 263 
 
 in his misery and desolation at the loss of Beatrice, he was 
 passing through the streets one day, when a young and beau- 
 tiful lady looked down on him from a window and took 
 compassion on him. Such was the influence over him of this 
 " gentil donna," that he went frequently to see her, and 
 composed a sonnet in her honour. When defending his good 
 name later on in the " Convito," he explains that this " gentil 
 donna" simply meant philosophy, to which he turned for 
 consolation when his heart was empty. But, as Carducci says, 
 why philosophy, of all the sciences, should be looking down 
 at young men from a window it is hard to say. 
 
 The death of Beatrice does not, however, mean the destruc- 
 tion of the church, but only her temporary eclipse, probably 
 during the reign of Boniface VIII. She will triumph yet, 
 and Dante himself will become the minstrel of her glory. 
 
 " So if it shall please Him, by whom all things live, to 
 spare my life to me for some more years, I hope to say that 
 of her which has never yet been said of any lady." 
 
 The promise was gloriously fulfilled in the " Divine 
 Comedy ". 
 
 The " Convito ". 
 
 The "Convito" was written between 1307 and 1309, 
 where, we know not. The title of the work was evidently 
 suggested by the " Symposium " of Plato. When Dante was 
 in exile, his enemies in Florence whispered calumnies against 
 his character, pointing to the "donna gentile " of the " Vita 
 Nuova," and to the odes which he had composed, as proofs 
 of his loose principles and conduct. It was mainly for the 
 purpose of defending himself that he wrote the " Convito ". 
 He had composed in all fourteen odes that had been called 
 in question, and he determined to write a commentary upon 
 them, and to prove to the world how wicked was the calumny 
 that had been uttered against him. He succeeded, however, 
 
264 DANTE'S MINOR WORKS. 
 
 in carrying out his design only in regard to three. On each 
 of these he gives us a regular treatise. He opens, however, 
 with a preface, in which he explains the purpose of his work. 
 The invasion of Italy by Henry VII. probably hindered him 
 from fulfilling completely the task that he had set himself. 
 
 In working out his defence, Dante deals at great length 
 with the allegorical meaning of his odes, and takes advantage, 
 now of a word, now of a sentence, to expatiate on all sorts 
 of topics — metaphysics, astronomy, psychology, physics, reli- 
 gion, and even politics — intending to make of his " Banquet " 
 a sort of reproduction, in Italian, of Brunetto's " Tr^sors," 
 or of the " Speculum Universale " of Vincent of Beauvais, 
 
 Another object Dante had in view in writing the " Convito " 
 was to show that philosophical questions could be treated in 
 Italian quite as well as in Latin or in French. The fine spirits 
 of the age affected Latin or French in poetry and philosophy. 
 Dante entered the lists against them, boldly, defiantly. He 
 made no apology for his choice of the " Italica loquela " which 
 he had spoken from his infancy and which every one spoke 
 around him. On the contrary he put his opponents on the 
 defensive and pursued them with the scourge of invective 
 and ridicule. The note of battle resounds throughout the 
 whole work. It was not, he thought, by gentle persuasion 
 that the mimicking tribe could be extirpated : a wholesome 
 application of the lash was needed to rid the country of 
 the parasites. He thus enumerates the causes of their pre- 
 dilection : — 
 
 " To the perpetual infamy and dispraise of the wicked men 
 
 of Italy, who commend the language of other nations whilst 
 
 they despise their own, I say that their conduct is due to five 
 
 abominable causes. The first is '■blindness of judgment' ; the 
 
 second is a ' false excuse ' ; the third is ' desire of vainglory ' ; 
 
 the fourth is ' argument of envy,' and the fifth is ' vileness of 
 
 soul'."! 
 
 iTratt. ii., ch. xi. 
 
DANTE'S MINOR WORKS. 265 
 
 One by one he develops these causes and shows how they 
 act on his opponents. He tells them that they are the slaves 
 of fashion, and might as well have no intellect of their own for 
 all the use they make of it. They are like sheep passing 
 through the street : when one begins to jump they all begin 
 to jump without knowing the reason why. They are like bad 
 workmen who quarrel with their tools and accuse the language 
 when the defect is in themselves. The man of noble mind 
 knows what price to set on the things of his neighbour and on 
 his own. The vile man thinks what belongs to himself is of 
 little value in comparison with what belongs to his neighbour. 
 
 " So it is with these abominable caitiffs of Italy who put a 
 vile price on their own precious tongue, which, if it be vile in 
 any sense, is so only when it sounds in the meretricious mouths 
 of these adulterers." ^ 
 
 In his exposition of the ode — 
 
 Voi che intendendo il terzo ciel movete 
 
 Dante gives us a long disquisition on astronomy, describing 
 the revolutions of the planets and the stars, following the 
 Ptolomaic system as it had been expounded by the Arabian 
 Alfraganus, but also following St. Thomas in his conception 
 of the Empyrean heaven where the Deity reposes in His 
 eternal rest beyond the limits of time and space. ^ Dante's 
 parallel between the sciences and the order of the revolutions 
 of the heavenly bodies is here also beautifully worked out. 
 In his commentary on the second Canzone — 
 
 Amor che nella mente mi ragiona, 
 
 the ontological and ethical nature of love is discussed, as well 
 as the origin of life and the creation of the soul. The treatise 
 concludes with an eloquent epilogue in praise of wisdom. 
 
 ^ Loc. cit. 
 
 2 " E quieto e paciiico e lo luogo di quella somma Deita che Se sola com- 
 piutamente vede. Questo e lo luogo degli spirit! beati, secondo che la Santa 
 Chiesa vuole, che non puo dir mensogna." — Tratt. ii., ch. iv. 
 
266 DANTE'S MINOR WORKS. 
 
 Finally, in the fourth treatise of the " Convito " or explana- 
 tion of his third Canzone — 
 
 Le dolci rime d' amoi, ch' io solia 
 Cercar ne' miei pensieri, 
 
 Dante outlines, probably for the first time, his theory of 
 universal monarchy, and the indefeasible right of the Roman 
 Emperor or Monarch to rule the whole world. Here he does 
 in prose for the Roman eagle what he was afterwards to do in 
 verse in the "Paradiso''. Balbo says that "the 'Convito' 
 should be the manual of the commentators," and we think 
 that no other of the poet's minor works diffuses more light 
 over the " Divina Commedia ". 
 
 The "De Vulgari Eloquio". 
 
 The " De Vulgari Eloquio" is justly called by Carducci 
 " the first treatise on philology and poetics that was ever 
 composed in the romance languages ".^ It opens with an 
 eloquent disquisition on the origin of speech, attributing it to 
 God, who bestowed the gift on man alone, and thus enabled 
 human creatures from their very origin to communicate intelli- 
 gently with one another. The whole human family spoke the 
 same language until their presumption in erecting the " Tower 
 of Babel" condemned them for ever to the confusion of 
 tongues. 
 
 Leaving aside the languages of the East, he turns his 
 attention to those of Europe alone, and particularly to the 
 three dialects of Southern Europe — the language of oc, the 
 language of si and the language of oil. He then discusses 
 more closely the "lingua di si" and its various dialects in 
 Italy ; and when he has explained what is meant by the 
 " vulgar tongue " or the vernacular, as we should call it, of the 
 various provinces, he proceeds to select from the various dialects 
 
 1 " L' Opera di Dante," pp. 24, 25. 
 
DANTE'S MINOR WORKS. 267 
 
 the elements that constitute the " vulgare commune," which he 
 calls "illustre, cardinale, aulicum at curiale," and which may- 
 be found in every city, but does not belong to any one in 
 particular.^ The " De Vulgari Eloquio " was regarded by the 
 Florentines as the work of a Ghibelline, on account of its 
 eclecticism, for it did not recognise the lingua toscana of the 
 time as the lingua aulica or language of literature and good 
 society. Time has convinced them of that injustice as well 
 as of so many others. 
 
 Having established his thesis regarding language, Dante 
 proceeds to deal with the new laws of poetry which had been 
 popularised by the troubadours of Provence and by the poets 
 of the early Italian school. This is certainly one of the most 
 important contributions to the literature of poetics that has 
 ever been written ; for it marks the transition from the classic 
 to the modern art of poetry. In ancient, and especially in 
 Greek, poetry, rhythm was the first and essential principle of all 
 verse. Little or no account was taken of the rhetorical accent 
 of words. The whole metrical system was founded on the 
 beauty of sound ; and as in Greek plastic art the graceful form 
 predominates over sentimental expression, so the rhythmic 
 cadence rules the whole field of Greek poetry, and does not 
 allow rhetorical expression to influence metre at all. The 
 predominance of the metric system in Latin poetry was 
 undoubtedly due to Grecian influence, and was maintained as 
 long as the great poets of the Roman classical period exer- 
 cised a dominant sway; but the natural tendency of the Latin 
 tongue to rhetorical rather than to rhythmical expressiori 
 
 ^ Nam sicut quoddam vulgare est invenire quod proprium est Cremonae,. 
 sic quoddam est invenire quod proprium est Lombardiae ; et sicut est invenire 
 aliquod quod sit proprium Lombardiae sic est invenire aliquod quod est totius 
 sinistrae Italiae proprium ; et sicut omnia haec est invenire, sic et illud quod 
 totius Italiae est. Et sicut illud Cremonense, ac illud Lombardum et tertium 
 Semilatium dicitur, sic istud quod totius Italiae est, Latinum vulgare vocatur. 
 Hoc enim usi sunt doctores illustres qui lingua vulgari poetati sunt in Italia, ut 
 Siculi, Apuli, Tusci, Romandioli, Lombardi, et utriusque Marchiae viri. 
 
■268 DANTE'S MINOR WORKS. 
 
 asserted itself in the long run, and ultimately got rid entirely 
 of the yoke of ancient prosody. At the beginning of the 
 Middle Ages the rhetorical as against the metrical accent 
 had completely recovered its place in Latin poetry. The 
 " Stabat Mater" and the "Dies Irae" are measured on the 
 sole principle of rhetorical accent. 
 
 One of the most distinctive features of the new poetry was 
 Thyme, which is also independent of the metric principle, and 
 is based exclusively on the sound and the rhetorical accent. 
 
 Who was the inventor of rhyme ? Who first made regular 
 use of it in poetry? These are questions which have given 
 rise to endless controversy. Some have attributed it to the 
 " troubadours ". Our friend and countryman, Dr. Sigerson, 
 makes out a strong case for the christian bards of ancient 
 Ireland.^ Grimm,^ however, seems to us to have clearly 
 shown that if rhyme was not used in ancient Greece and 
 Rome, it was not because its peculiarities and advantages 
 were not known, but because it could not adapt itself to their 
 rhythmical system. Rhyme was frequently used by the 
 Roman poets, both at the ends of verses following one another, 
 and at the chief caesura and the end of a single verse ; but it 
 took centuries for rhyme and rhetorical accent combined to 
 supersede metre in the classical sense. They ultimately 
 succeeded, of course, and their triumph was complete. 
 
 A somewhat similar phenomenon is noticed in early 
 'German literature ; but the rhythmic accent remained in 
 German poetry side by side with the rhetorical much longer 
 than in Latin or romance. In romance even more than in 
 Latin the rhythmic element declined, and metre was entirely 
 based on the number and accent of the syllables. Now, in 
 the second part of his work " De Vulgari Eloquio," Dante 
 gives us an account of the measurement of verse and of the 
 
 ' See " Contemporary Review," October, 1892, " Irish Literature, its Origin, 
 Environment and Influence," also " Bards of the Gael and Gall ". 
 2 " Zur Geschichte des Reims ". 
 
DANTE'S MINOR WORKS. 269 
 
 construction of the stanza which had been adopted by the 
 troubadours, and which had invaded Italy from Provence. 
 He discusses the principles that had been followed by such 
 masters of the art as Bertand de Born, Arnauld Daniel, Gerard 
 de Borneil, Cino da Pistoia, the King of Navarre, Guido 
 Gunicelli, Foulques of Marseilles, Guido Cavalcanti. and 
 others. 
 
 The three great forms of poetic production were the 
 canzo, the ballad and the sonnet. Dante devotes the greater 
 part of his unfinished work to a consideration of the canzo. 
 For this it was necessary to lay down the rules of the stanza, 
 and to classify sounds and words according to their rhetorical 
 expression. He tells us what use was made of the diesis (or 
 " dieresis,'' as he calls it) ; how the melodic and rhythmic 
 phrases should be distributed ; and how they are distinguished 
 into ''pedes" and " cauda," and the whole stanza into "frons" 
 and " versus,'' or " pedes " and " versus ". He also shows how 
 the different parts were held together by what he calls " con- 
 catenatio," a device which required the " cauda " or " versus " 
 to adopt one or several rhymes of the " frons " or " pedes ". 
 
 Enough has been said to prove the great care with which 
 Dante studied the laws of verse and the systematic determina- 
 tion with which he set himself to build up a new language and 
 a new literature on the ground that he had chosen. 
 
 Like the " Convito," the "De Vulgari Eloquio" is incom- 
 plete. It was to have extended to five or more books, whilst 
 in reality it breaks off before the second is finished. It must 
 have been composed during Dante's exile, though at what 
 precise date it is impossible to tell. It was probably written 
 after the " Convito," though, as Witte contends, everything 
 points to the fact that the second book is of a much later date 
 than the first. 
 
270 DANTE'S MINOR WORKS. 
 
 The "De Monarchia". 
 
 The three great questions which Dante discusses in his 
 treatise " De Monarchia" are: (i) Is a universal, temporal 
 monarchy necessary for the well-being of the world? (2) 
 Have the Roman people acquired a right to this monarchy? 
 (3) Does the authority of this monarchy depend immediately 
 on God or on some minister or vicar of God ? 
 
 These questions are of the gravest moment for the whole 
 world, and far transcend, he confesses, his own restricted 
 powers ; but he depends for inspiration and light on the 
 bountiful Author of all gifts.^ 
 
 In a sort of general introduction he lays down that as the 
 object of the individual man is the highest development of 
 his faculties, so it is with men constituted in society. But, in 
 order that the individual may attain the highest development, 
 all his faculties must be directed by the intellect ; in like 
 manner society must act in subjection to an intelligent head. 
 This is the order of nature as we see it developed in villages, 
 towns and cities. It must be so, since God created man in His 
 own image, and the more His creatures resemble Him the 
 more they approach to unity. But as in all societies con- 
 tentions and differences arise, there is need of a monarch 
 who will act as supreme judge and final authority. Only 
 a universal monarch can be impartial enough for such a 
 purpose, since kings of limited territories would always be 
 liable to seek their own ends. 
 
 The argument of the first part is logical and metaphysical. 
 It deduces the necessity of a supreme ruler of the whole world 
 from the notions all men conceive of justice, charity, order, 
 unity, liberty and concord. To secure the realisation of these 
 
 ^ Arduum quippe opus et ultra vires aggredior, non tarn de propria virtute 
 confideus quam de lumine Largitoris illius " qui dat omnibus affluenter et non 
 improperat "- 
 
DANTE'S MINOR WORKS. 271 
 
 in the living, active world, one supreme monarch is required ; 
 not that he should rule each separate state ; but he should main- 
 tain order, peace and justice amongst all nations and peoples.^ 
 Without such a ruler it is impossible on this earth to avoid 
 rivalry, jealousy, discord, contention, hatred and war — all 
 things in fact which Christ came down from heaven to banish. 
 
 The argument of the second part is historical. The 
 necessity of a supreme monarch of the world having been 
 established, he proceeds to inquire what people have the 
 strongest claim to this supremacy. Without hesitation he 
 answers — the Roman people : because they are and have been 
 the most virtuous. This he proves from the conduct of the 
 Romans ever since the foundation of the city. He recalls the 
 great deeds of the founders of Rome, of its early kings and 
 citizens, of the heroes and fathers of the Republic. He re- 
 minds us of the miracles wrought by heaven in its behalf, 
 giving us, as it were a bird's-eye view of Roman history from 
 the earliest times to his own, making a strong point of the fact 
 that Christ, our Lord, consented to be born under the Emperor 
 Augustus, and exculpating the empire, to the best of his ability, 
 from the crime of Pontius Pilate. Moreover, as God it is who 
 gives the victory to conquering nations, and as the Romans 
 always won it, a sign was given to the world that they should 
 attain to this highest prerogative on earth. What people 
 could contest it with those who had subjugated Assyria, 
 Egypt, Persia, Greece, Gaul, Spain and Germany? 
 
 The argument of the third part is mainly theological. The 
 author begins by designating the adversaries of his thesis. 
 They are : (i) The Sovereign Pontiffs, acting through zeal 
 for the keys, together with the pastors of various flocks, and 
 other christians, whose motives are laudable and upright, 
 since they are founded on zeal for the welfare of Our Holy 
 
 ^ Habent namque nationes, regna et civitates inter se proprietates quas 
 legibus differentibus regular! oportet. Aliter quippe regulari oportet Scythas . . . 
 et aliter Garamantes, etc., etc. 
 
272 DANTE'S MINOR WORKS. 
 
 Mother, the Church. (2) Those in whom the most obstinate 
 cupidity has extinguished the light of reason ; and who, whilst 
 they are of their father the devil, proclaim themselves the 
 children of the Church. In these we easily recognise the 
 Guelphs. (3) The Decretalists, who, however ignorant they 
 were of theology and philosophy, deduced whatever suited 
 them from their codes and pandects and traditions. 
 
 Towards the first of these three categories Dante proclaims 
 his unqualified respect.^ For the Church he professes the 
 reverence of a son for a father, and the love of a son for a 
 mother. 
 
 Nevertheless, he ventures to hold that Scripture as well 
 as reason supports his contention that the emperor derives 
 his authority directly from God and not from the Pope. 
 He refutes, to his own satisfaction, the arguments deduced 
 from a comparison of the spiritual and temporal orders 
 to the sun and the moon ; from the precedence of Levi over 
 Juda ; from the deposition of Saul by Samuel ; from the 
 symbolic meaning of frankincense and gold ; from the words 
 of Christ to St. Peter, "Whatsoever thou shalt bind," etc. ; 
 from the two swords of St. Luke ; and several other passages 
 of Scripture. 
 
 He then deals with the argument based on the supposed 
 ''Donation of Constantine," and holds that Constantine could 
 not validly bestow the dignities of the empire on the Pope. 
 He says nothing about the city. It is with the dignities and 
 prerogatives he is concerned. Nor does he acknowledge the 
 validity of the title of Charlemagne. Usurpation gives no 
 valid claim ; otherwise Emperors could inflict a Pope on the 
 church or depose the rightful one, which would be repudiated 
 hy all christians. Moreover, the empire existed with full 
 
 1 Cum quibus ilia reverentia fretus quam plus filius debet patri, quam pius 
 filius matri, pius in Christum, pius in Ecclesiam, pius in Pastorem, pius in omnes. 
 Christianam religionem profitentes, pro salute veritatis in hoc libro certamen 
 incipio. 
 
DANTE'S MINOR WORKS. 273 
 
 power and authority before the church was founded, and not 
 only did St. Paul and the other Apostles acknowledge the 
 rights of Caesar, but they were acknowledged and proclaimed 
 by Our Lord Himself. 
 
 The emperor, therefore, according to Dante, holds his 
 power directly from God, and not from the Pope. The world 
 needs two guides, one in temporals, the other in spirituals. 
 And the Lord who orders the course of the heavens, who 
 guides and governs all things, has alone the power to choose 
 and confirm Csesar, and thereby maintain the human race in 
 unity, peace and justice.-' 
 
 The "De Monarchia" was written, according to the most 
 trustworthy critics, whilst Henry VH. was in Italy, and was 
 intended plainly as a political pamphlet. Luigi Tosti thinks it 
 was meant as a reply to the bull " Unam Sanctam," of Pope 
 Boniface VIII.,^ and in that case of course it would have been 
 written earlier, as many think it was. Certain it appears that 
 it was made use of then and afterwards as an instrument of 
 Ghibelline propaganda, to such an extent, indeed, that it was 
 solemnly condemned by Cardinal Bertrando, the legate in 
 Lombardy of Pope John XXII., on the occasion of the ill- 
 starred visit of Louis of Bavaria to Rome. What wonder, as 
 Ozanam remarks, that it should have met with the censures 
 of the Church at a time when the memory of Frederick II. 
 and Philippe Le Bel was still fresh in the public mind ! 
 
 In saying that the temporal power is independent in its 
 own sphere, Dante is quite correct, and is justified by the 
 teaching of all theologians ; but he falls into error in restricting 
 the power and authority of the Popes to purely spiritual 
 teaching and government. If his theory had been followed, 
 civilisation would have suffered an inevitable check : and, as 
 
 1 See Fr. Bowden's Translation of Hettinger, pp. 360-390. 
 ^ " Storia di Bonifazio VIII. e de' Suoi Tempi, per D Luigi Tosti," vol. ii., 
 p. 306. 
 
 18 
 
274 DANTE'S MINOR WORKS. 
 
 Gregorovious ^ believes, we might now be living under some 
 new Nero, Domitian or Caracalla. 
 
 Yet, unpractical though Dante's Utopia may have been, it 
 was nevertheless the conception of a great and noble mind. 
 His monarchy would be no " Leviathan," like that of Hobbes, 
 crushing under its despotic heel every aspiration towards 
 liberty ; no centre of craft and fraud in which some Machiavelian 
 " Prince " would set morality and justice at naught ; no grasping 
 and communistic "state" like that of Saint-Simon or Louis 
 Blanc. His emperor would be the personification upon earth 
 of morality, justice and charity, having the Sovereign Pontiff 
 ever by his side to teach him the unerring laws of the higher 
 life, and having as his aim the high design of leading the 
 whole world to that goal of earthly happiness which is a 
 foretaste of the life to come. 
 
 1 " Geschichte der Stadt Rom im Mittelalter," vi., p. 24. 
 
275 
 
 DANTE'S COMMENTATORS. 
 
 The struggle for existence of a poem or of a book was very 
 different in the days of Dante from what it is in ours. When 
 we speak of the publication of a work in the Middle Ages, we 
 do not mean that it was put up for sale at once on the stalls 
 of the booksellers. We simply imply that it was widely 
 circulated in the schools ; that it was communicated to a certain 
 number of men of learning and distinction who took an 
 interest in the subject of which it treated, and who read it to 
 admiring friends ; and that possibly some copies, in more or 
 less legible calligraphy, were to be found for sale under the 
 shadow of some of the great cathedrals and universities. We 
 have seen that the " Divina Commedia " was sent in parts, 
 during Dante's lifetime, to three of his illustrious patrons, 
 Uggucione della Faggiuolo, Moroello Malaspina, and Can 
 Grande della Scala. We have also seen that Dante, when 
 forwarding to Can Grande the portion of the " Commedia " 
 which he had completed in 13 17, wrote at the same time a 
 letter to his patron in which he explains the principles on 
 which his poem was to be understood, and the various senses in 
 which his words were to be taken. This is the first and most 
 valuable commentary on the " Divine Comedy " that we 
 possess, and has served as the key to every other. Dante tells 
 Can Grande that there are six things to be sought in every 
 doctrinal work — "the subject, the agent, the form, the aim, the 
 title of the book, and the kind of philosophy ". On each of these 
 heads the poet gives a brief exposition, laying particular stress 
 on the allegorical sense, and explaining the reasons which 
 
276 DANTE'S COMMENTATORS. 
 
 induced him to call his work a comedy. This brief com- 
 mentary, valuable though it is, touches, of course, only the 
 general plan and outline of the poem. It leaves us in the 
 dark regarding the thousands of details and the numberless 
 references which abound throughout the work. It soon be- 
 came clear to Dante's countrymen that his poem needed and 
 deserved a commentary ; and they naturally turned to those 
 most closely associated with the poet for light and guidance 
 through so dark a forest. 
 
 Jacopo and Pietro. 
 
 During the latter years of Dante's life, his sons, Pietro and 
 Jacopo, lived with him at Ravenna. It is natural to suppose 
 that they would have taken a deep interest in their father's 
 work. It does not follow, however, that they were capable of 
 fully grasping its significance. This is particularly true of 
 Jacopo, to whom a commentary on the " Inferno," written in 
 1323, is ascribed. This commentary was published by Lord 
 Vernon, in Florence, in 1848. It seems utterly unworthy of 
 the subject, and its authenticity has been questioned. That 
 it was attributed to Jacopo during his lifetime is certain ; and 
 there is no trace of a record that he disclaimed it. Another 
 commentary on the first three cantos is also attributed to 
 Jacopo, but it is evident the two works cannot have had the 
 same author. 
 
 A far more important work is the commentary ascribed to 
 Pietro, also published by Lord Vernon.^ This is a very learned 
 volume, and shows that the author had a perfect knowledge 
 of the poem. It is written on the plan laid down by Dante 
 himself. It gives evidence of deep study and extensive 
 reading in theology, philosophy and history. So much indeed 
 is this the case that it was believed it could not have been 
 
 • " Petri AUighierii Super Dantis ipsius Genitoris Comaedian Comment- 
 arium." Florentis, 1846. 
 
DANTE'S COMMENTATORS. 277 
 
 composed in the office of a busy lawyer, but rather in the 
 cell of some learned monk. Its authenticity is rejected by 
 Tiraboschi and Dionisi. But it was regarded as genuine by 
 Landino, a good judge ; and as it cannot have been written 
 later than 1344, which is clear from internal evidence, it must 
 have been fabricated during Pietro's lifetime, if fabricated at 
 all. But again there is no record that Pietro disclaimed it. 
 
 Graziuolo di Bambaglioli. 
 
 Of earlier date even than the commentaries attributed to 
 Jacopo and Pietro is that which is ascribed to Graziuolo di 
 Bambaglioli. Ser Graziuolo was a native of Bologna and a 
 member of the Guelph party. He was chancellor of the city 
 in the year 1321, when Dante died at Ravenna. Not long 
 after the poet's death Bologna was disturbed by the conflict 
 between the Pope and Louis of Bavaria. The authority of 
 Dante was cited in favour of Louis. This led to recrimina- 
 tion and violent language. The Dominican friar, Fra Guido 
 Vernani, of Rimini, assailed the poet's orthodoxy and de- 
 nounced his works as heretical.^ He calls him " an agent of 
 the father of lies," " a whimsical and verbose sophist," " a grow- 
 ing danger to the faith," " a vessel fair to look upon but full of 
 cruel and death-dealing poison". Fra Guido dedicated his 
 attack to "his w^ll-beloved son, Graziuolo di Bambaglioli, 
 Chancellor of the noble Commune of Bologna ". He did so 
 probably because he had heard that Graziuolo was engaged in 
 writing a commentary on Dante's poem and wished to deter 
 him from executing his project or put him on his guard as to 
 how he did it. Graziuolo, however, was not to be deterred or 
 turned from his purpose. He strenuously defended Dante's 
 character as an orthodox Catholic. He took up the challenge 
 on the most important of the disputed points ; and as he was 
 
 1 " De Potestate Summi Pontificis et de Reprobatione Monarchiae Compositse 
 a Dante Aligherio." 
 
278 DANTE'S COMMENTATORS. 
 
 in all probability personally acquainted with Dante, his inter- 
 pretations are of the highest value. The commentary, which 
 was confined to the " Inferno," was issued about three years 
 after Dante's death, and would thus be the very first, in point 
 of time, that we possess. It was written in Latin, but was 
 later on translated into Italian. The Italian version was 
 published by Lord Vernon in 1848. The original Latin text 
 was published at Udine in 1892,^ and edited by Professor A. 
 Fiammazzo. 
 
 JACOPO DELLA LANA. 
 
 During a long spell of the Middle Ages the University of 
 Bologna was not only the leading school of civil and canon 
 law in the Catholic world, but also the most attractive centre 
 for literary studies in all Italy. Students flocked to its halls 
 from the most distant provinces, and there vied with one 
 another in the effort to become acquainted with the master- 
 pieces of literature and works of the great minds that had 
 shaped the destinies of the world. Now it is clear that 
 Dante's "Divine Comedy" was steadily making its way, and 
 had already got a footing at Bologna, as early as the year 
 1330, when Dominus Jacobus de la Lana, a licentiate of arts 
 and theology of that university, composed the earliest com- 
 mentary on the entire poem of Dante which has come down to 
 us. We have this assurance on the authority of Albergo di 
 Rosciate, who translated Jacopo's work into Latin from the 
 Bolognese dialect of Italian in which it was written. It is 
 generally believed that Jacopo gave public readings of the 
 " Commedia " in the University, and expounded it to the 
 assembled students. His work takes precedence in point of 
 time of all other commentaries except that of Graziuolo de 
 Bambaglioli, and was also the first that ever appeared in 
 
 ^ " II Commento All' ' Inferno ' di Graziuolo di Bambaglioli." Udine, 1892. 
 See also article in " Irish Eccl. Record," February, i8g8, by Edmund G, 
 Gardner, on " Dante's First Defender ". 
 
DANTE'S COMMENTATORS. 279 
 
 print. It was published in Venice in 1477, by Vendelin di 
 Spira, and, by mistake, attributed by its editor, Cristoforo 
 Berardi, to Benvenuto da Imola. A great many subsequent 
 commentaries borrowed from Jacopo's work, some of them 
 indeed reproducing whole passages of it. It follows the 
 method laid down by Dante himself, taking in succession 
 the matter or subject, the form, the title, the object and the 
 philosophy. 
 
 The "Ottimo Commento". 
 
 The commentary that has probably thrown most light on 
 the details of the " Divine Comedy " is that which is known 
 as the " Ottimo ". It was certainly written, at least in part, by 
 a writer who was intimately acquainted with Dante, and knew 
 the poet's mind on many questions of importance. By some 
 it has even been attributed to Dante's son, Jacopo, who was 
 more likely than any other to be possessed of the sort of 
 knowledge it displays. The work is mentioned in Vasari's 
 account of the life of Cimabue. It was finished about twelve 
 years after the poet's death, and while Giotto was still alive. 
 Portions of it so closely resemble the work of Jacobo della 
 Lana that Salvati and Pinelli regarded it as merely a Tuscan 
 version from Jacopo's Bolognese original. Dionisi, however, 
 has shown that whilst both have much in common there are 
 still great differences between them. 
 
 Batines regarded the part on the " Inferno " as original. 
 The commentary on the "Paradiso" he ascribed to Andrea 
 Lancia of Florence, a well-known lawyer. The portion which 
 relates to the first six cantos of the " Purgatorio " are exactly 
 the same in the " Ottimo" as in the commentary of Jacopo della 
 Lana. Witte thinks the " Ottimo " is written by an author 
 who borrowed from Jacopo but supplied a vast amount of use- 
 ful matter of his own. This author, he believes was certainly 
 Lancia.^ 
 
 ' Tutto dunque concorre a farci credere che Andrea Lancia, Notaro 
 Fiorentino . . . compose "I'Ottiino" Letter to Seymour Kirkup, scf Dante- 
 Forschungen, Band i., p. 398. 
 
280 DANTE'S COMMENTATORS. 
 
 A reference to the fall of the bridge across the Arno in 
 1333) and the disappearance of the marble statue of Mars 
 which was erected upon it, and was regarded with super- 
 stitious reverence by the Florentines, marks the date of this 
 commentary ; for its author (or some very early copyist) says 
 that this inauspicious event took place the year before the 
 work was written. 
 
 Of all the commentators the author of the "Ottimo" 
 comes nearest to Dante's own way of regarding things. His 
 remarks on the fallen fortunes of many Florentine families, 
 and the vicissitudes through which the city had passed, throw 
 a flood of light on some of the most difficult passages of 
 the "Divine Comedy". This commentary was called the 
 " Ottimo " by the " Accademia della Crusca " on account of 
 the great number of words with which it had enriched the 
 Italian language. 
 
 Boccaccio. 
 
 Towards the end of the fourteenth century the merits of 
 the " Divina Commedia " were acknowledged all over Italy ; 
 and so high was the esteem in which the work was held, 
 that public professorships were established to make known 
 and to explain its contents. At Florence Boccaccio was 
 selected as the person best fitted for the task. His readings 
 were given in the church of San Stefano, and opened on 
 Sunday, the 23rd of October, 1373. He held the chair for 
 two years, and had got as far as the seventeenth canto of 
 the " Inferno " with his exposition when he died.^ 
 
 ' It is interesting to learn that the reading and explanation of the " Divina 
 Commedia " which began with Boccaccio in Florence in 1373, and ceased at the 
 death of Father G. B. Giuliani fifteen years ago, has been resumed under the 
 auspices of such well-known Dante scholars as Pio Rajna, Guido Mazzoni and 
 Corrado Ricci. The Duchess Gaetani has presented ;^iooo to the fund which 
 is intended to perpetuate the work. The most prominent Dante scholars are 
 invited to comment on a canto of the poem every Thursday afternoon in the 
 historic hall of Or San Michele. 
 
DANTE'S COMMENTATORS. 281 
 
 Boccaccio had the advantage of being acquainted with 
 Andrea Poggi, a nephew of Dante, and from him gained a 
 good deal of the material for his lectures. He had, moreover, 
 great veneration for the memory of the poet, and had obtained 
 from the municipality of Florence a grant of ten gold florins 
 for his daughter, who was a nun in the convent of St. Stefano 
 at Ravenna. 
 
 There is a great deal of original information in his com- 
 mentary ; but it is hard to say how much there is of truth 
 and how much of fiction, in the verbose and garrulous dis- 
 quisitions which he gives on all sorts of topics remotely 
 suggested by the text. The author of the tales of the " Deca- 
 meron " could scarcely be expected to write sober history, 
 or to put a curb on his imagination, even when lecturing in 
 a church. His commentary on Dante is literature, like every- 
 thing he wrote ; but nobody need seriously go to seek for 
 history or truth in it. His assertions are worthless unless 
 confirmed from other sources. 
 
 Falso Boccaccio. 
 
 Of nearly the same date as the commentary of Boccaccio 
 is another, of an unknown author, which has been called 
 the " False Boccaccio," as it was falsely attributed to the 
 real author of the " Decameron ". It was the first of the four 
 commentaries printed by Lord Vernon,"^ and fills a large 
 volume of more than 700 pages. It is difficult to see how 
 it could have been attributed to Boccaccio, as nothing could 
 be more unlike the style of the great novel writer, and as 
 the whole work betrays an ignorance of things relating to 
 Florence and Tuscany, which no one could think of ascribing 
 to Boccaccio. 
 
 * -^ " Chiose sopra Dante, Teste Inedite." Firenze, 1846. 
 
282 DANTE'S COMMENTATORS. 
 
 Benvenuto da Imola. 
 
 It is universally admitted that the greatest and the best 
 of the early commentators of Dante was Benvenuto di Rim- 
 baldi da Imola. When Boccaccio commenced his course of 
 lectures on the "Divine Comedy'' in 1375, Benvenuto came 
 to hear him, and became one of the most assiduous of his 
 listeners. Two years later the people of Bologna established 
 a Dante chair in their university, and Benvenuto was called 
 upon to fill it. So numerous were his hearers that the largest 
 hall available could not contain them, and the professor was 
 frequently obliged to adjourn his class to one of the public 
 squares of the city. His lectures were formed into a com- 
 mentary at the request of Petrarch. This commentary was 
 in due course translated into Italian, and the Italian version 
 of it was published by Tamburini in 1855. All students of 
 Dante were still anxious to have access to the original Latin 
 text, and Lord Vernon, who had already done so much for 
 them, determined once again to give them what they wanted. 
 But the Maecenas of Dante literature died before he could 
 carry out his intention. The project was taken up by his 
 eldest son ; but he, too, died before the project was accom- 
 plished. It then fell into the hands of his second son, the 
 Hon. William Warren Vernon, who successfully carried out 
 his father's intention.' The work was published in Florence in 
 1887, with introductory notices by Sir James Lacaita. Ben- 
 venuto's commentary is clear and systematic. Each canto .is 
 first described in general terms, then divided into sections. 
 Each section is then taken in turn, and every expression and 
 every word that offers any difficulty is sifted and discussed 
 and explained. 
 
 ' " Commentum super Dantis Aldigherii Comoediam, nunc Primum Integre 
 in Lucem Editum." Sumptibus Gulielmi Warren Vernon. Curante Jacobo 
 Philippo Lacaita, Florentiae. Typis, G. Barbera, 1887, 5 vols., Svo. London : 
 Nutt. 
 
DANTE'S COMMENTATORS. 283 
 
 Francesca da Buti. 
 
 Pisa and Milan were not slow to follow the example of 
 Florence and Bologna in honouring the immortal poet. About 
 the middle of the fourteenth century the Pisans entrusted the 
 office of expounding Dante to the famous scholar, Francesco 
 di Bartolo da Buti. Francesco, who was a native of the village 
 of Buti, in the neighbourhood of Pisa, was born in 1324. 
 From his youth he showed a remarkable aptitude for business, 
 and at an early age became a member of the supreme council 
 of the republic, and finally its president. When his term of 
 office expired he was employed in various embassies, in which 
 he rendered signal service to his little republic. As a recom- 
 pense for these services he was selected to fill the Dante 
 professorship which his fellow-citizens had established. This 
 office he performed with even greater distinction and success 
 than any of the others. If he had been merely a statesman 
 and diplomatist his name would have been lost in the crowd ; 
 as a commentator of Dante he is sure of immortality. His 
 commentary is the most voluminous of all those which have 
 come down to us from these early times. It is a regular 
 mine of literary wealth. For verbal criticism it is unrivalled ; 
 and its variety of illustration from the works of contemporary 
 authorities adds greatly to its value, Francesco reached a fine 
 old age, and died on the 25th of July, 1406. His commentary 
 was published for the first time in Pisa in 1858. It was care- 
 fully edited by Crescentino Giannini.^ 
 
 Anonimo Fiorentino. 
 
 The commentary of an author who is usually called 
 " Anonimo Fiorentino " belongs to the end of the fourteenth 
 
 ' " Commento di Francesco da Buti Sopra la ' Divina Commedia ' di Dante 
 Allighieri." Publicato per Cura di Crescentino Giannini. Pisa, Nistri, rSsS. 
 
■284. DANTE'S COMMENTATORS. 
 
 century. It is a mere compilation from earlier commentaries. 
 Indeed a good deal of this early literature on Dante recalls 
 to our mind that paper in Washington Irving's sketch-book, 
 in which the most charming of American writers describes 
 " The Art of Bookmaking ". He shows us how few there 
 are amongst the great company of authors who in reality 
 wear their own garments ; but, taking a sleeve from one, a 
 cape from another, and a skirt from a third, array themselves 
 in patchwork, allowing, however, some of their original rags 
 to peep out among this borrowed iinery. 
 
 Later Commentators. 
 
 The first series of commentators on Dante ends with 
 Bargigi of Bergamo, who read the " Divina Commedia " in 
 public at Milan in 1435. From this onward, the study ,of 
 Dante had its vicissitudes like all things of this earth. At 
 certain periods his " Comedy " received more attention than 
 at others. Then all sorts of writers had something to say 
 to it ; but amongst the host of professional commentators 
 who undertook to expound it, certain names stand out as dis- 
 tinguished beyond the others for scholarship and originality. 
 First among these is Cristoforo Landino (1424-1504) one of 
 the active spirits of the Renaissance, professor of belles lettres 
 at Florence, tutor of Lorenzo and Guiliani de Medici, and 
 ultimately secretary of the Signoria. His " Commento Sopra 
 La Commedia di Dante " was published in one folio volume 
 at Florence in 148 1. He examined the " Commedia " in the 
 interests of the new Florentine Academy, chiefly from the 
 philological point of view ; but he also discussed the situation, 
 form and dimensions of the " Inferno," thus opening a line 
 of criticism in which even Galileo took a part, measuring the 
 diameters of the different circles and computing the size of 
 the giants and the length of Satan's arms. This sort of 
 
DANTE'S COMMENTATORS. 285 
 
 criticism was carried to extravagant lengths by Vellutello,^ 
 Manetti and Danielle. 
 
 It is quite clear that the humanist movement was not 
 favourable to Dante. We hear very little of his name for a 
 hundred years after the rise of the Medici ; and even in the 
 later Renaissance, when we begin to hear of him again, there 
 would seem to be a cloud over his fame. Non-Catholic 
 writers attribute this occultation to the Jesuits. Certainly 
 Father Venturi (1693-1725) exhausted all the shafts of ridicule 
 against the poet ; and Tiraboschi,^ the historian of Italian 
 literature (1731-1794) who was also a Jesuit, and who is so 
 lenient towards Petrarch, has no language too caustic or too 
 virulent to denounce what he regards as the defects of the 
 " Divine Comedy". Yet it must not be forgotten that we owe 
 to a pupil of the Jesuits, Mgr. Dionisi of Verona (1724- 1808), 
 one of the finest editions of Dante's work that has ever been 
 printed, and some very original views on the interpretation of 
 the text. Witte regards him as the acutest of Dante critics. 
 We should also remember that public taste had long been 
 vitiated by the unnatural striving after form and grace that 
 had distinguished the Renaissance. Moreover, when passages 
 from the " Divina Commedia " were flung in the faces of the 
 apologists of the Church, it was natural enough that they should 
 retort that Dante was no inspired prophet, but merely a 
 poet and a mortal man, subject to many frailties, and guilty 
 of some extravagant errors. 
 
 Amongst the commentators of the eighteenth century we 
 should not omit the name of Gianantonio Volpi (1680-1756), 
 the famous author of a treatise against the admission of 
 women to the study of science and the arts. His edition of 
 the " Divine Comedy," " Con Doppio Rimario,'' is particularly 
 
 ^ Vellutello, whose commentary appeared in 1544, was the first to suggest 
 Can Grande della Scala as the " Veltro ". 
 
 ^ " Storia della Letteratura Italiana," vol. v., part ii., p. 491 and fol. 
 
286 DANTE'S COMMENTATORS. 
 
 good on account of its notes on the references to heathen 
 mythology, and because it is practically the first of those 
 Dante dictionaries which we owe to Blanc,i Bocci,^ Scartazzini,' 
 Poletto* and Toynbee,^ and which threaten to drive the com- 
 mentaries out of the field. 
 
 Neither should we forget the learned Franciscan, Lombardi, 
 who published an edition of the "Commedia" in Rome in 
 1 79 1, and whose great admiration of the poet provoked the 
 ire of Father Venturi. 
 
 Coming down to the nineteenth century, it may well be said 
 that never was Dante's fame so great or so widely acknowledged. 
 In Italy the works of Torri, Costa, Troya, Fraticelli, Tom- 
 maseo, Giuliani, Bianchi, Berardinelli, Poletto, Rajna, Renier, 
 Passerini, Del Lungo, Biagi, Ricci, testify to the ever-growing 
 interest taken by Italians in the achievement of their country- 
 man. The most important of the Italian works on Dante, 
 published in recent times, is unquestionably the "Dizionario 
 Dantesco " of Mgr. Poletto. Mgr. Poletto is a disciple of 
 Giuliani and occupies the chair of Italian Literature in the 
 school of arts that is attached to the Appollinare and that has 
 recently been so highly favoured by Pope Leo XIII. On the 
 history of Dante's age, perhaps the most painstaking investi- 
 gator of the present time is Professor Isidoro del Lungo ^ of 
 the Florentine Academy ; whereas the highest living authority 
 on the events of Dante's life is probably Count Passerini. In 
 connection with Guido Biagi, the librarian of the Lorenzo 
 Medici Library in Florence, Count Passerini, who occupies the 
 position of sub-librarian in the same establishment, besides 
 
 1 " Vocabulario Dg^ntesco." Translated into Italian by G. Carbone. Firenze : 
 Barbara, 1859./? g^O} 
 
 2 " Dizionatio-Storico-Geografico della Divina Commedia." 
 
 3 " Enciclopedia Dantesca." '' " Dizionario Dantesco." 
 » 6 " Dante Dictionary." 
 
 ^Author of a collection of studies recently published at Bologna entitled 
 ' Del Secolo e del Poema di Dante " and of another volume which appeared at 
 Milan: " Da Bonifazio VIII. ad Arrigo VII.". 
 
DANTE'S COMMENTATORS. 287 
 
 editing the " Giornale Dantesco," has published facsimilies of 
 some of the more important of the early historical documents 
 relating to Dante and his family in the " Codice Diplomatico 
 Dantesco ". 
 
 France also has repudiated Voltaire ; and some of her most 
 prominent men of letters in the present century have contri- 
 buted to the apotheosis of Dante. Rivarol had already done 
 so before the Revolution. Then came Lamartine, Edgar 
 Quinet, Lamennais, Labitte, Brizeux, Mesnard, Ozanam, 
 Fauriel, Colomb de Batines,i Villemain, Ampere, Taillandier, 
 Mont6gut and Gaston Paris. 
 
 America is represented by Longfellow, Russell Lowell, 
 Norton, Latham and Carpenter. Germany has perhaps the 
 greatest array of Dante scholars, among them King John 
 of Saxony (Philalethes), Witte, Blanc, Kannegiesser, Scar- 
 tazzini, Hettinger and Gietmann. Of these the most volu- 
 minous and critical writers are Witte and Scartazzini. 
 
 WiTTE. 
 
 Karl Witte was born at Lochau in Germany in the year 
 1800. Even in his boyhood he was a sort of prodigy. He 
 matriculated in the University of Leipzig at the age of nine 
 and took out his doctor's degree at the age of fourteen. In 
 18 18 he went to Italy, where he purchased two expensive 
 editions of Dante, and began the study of the poem. In 1823 
 he published his essay on "The Art of Misunderstanding 
 Dante". In the same year he was appointed professor of 
 law in Breslau. In 1834 he was transferred in a similar 
 capacity to Halle, where he lived for close on fifty years. He 
 died on the 6th of March, 1883. In spite of his occupa- 
 tion as a professor of law, and the labour that he expended 
 on the legal works that bear his name, he never interrupted 
 
 ' The " Bibliografia Dantesca " of Colomb de Batines was written by the 
 author in French and was subsequently translated from the French MSS. into 
 Italian and published, at Prato, in 1845. 
 
288 DANTE'S COMMENTATORS. 
 
 his pursuits in the critical study of Dante, with the result that 
 there is scarcely an event in Dante's life, or an expression of 
 the text of any of his works, on which he has not given the 
 world the benefit of his judgment and research. Of the vast 
 array of his works, only the earlier of which are to be found 
 in the " Bibliografia Dantesca" of Colomb de Batines, the 
 most valuable are his edition of the " Divine Comedy," 
 corrected from the most trustworthy texts (Berlin, 1862), and 
 his two volumes of essays, " Dante Forschungen," ^ published 
 in 1869 and 1879 i" Heilbronn and Halle. 
 
 SCARTAZZINI. 
 
 Dr. G. A. Scartazzini is a native of Chur in Switzerland. 
 Like all Swiss people he has the gift of tongues, and writes 
 with equal facility in German and Italian. He has supplied 
 the Italians with a manual on " Dante," entitled " Prolegomeni 
 della Divina Commedia," and the Germans with a " Dante 
 Handbuch," of which Mr. A. J. Butler has given us an 
 excellent English translation. He has published besides the 
 most exhaustive commentary on the "Commedia" that has 
 yet been written. He knows every codex and every variant 
 of the text that can be found in the libraries. His interesting 
 essay on " Dante in Germany " traces the poet's influence on 
 the people to whom he applied an opprobrious name, but who 
 forgive him for the sake of his Ghibelline propensities and 
 willingness to make a German prince emperor of the world. 
 His " Enciclopedia Dantesca " is one of the most valuable of 
 the Dante dictionaries. 
 
 The "Vernons". 
 
 We have frequently mentioned in the course of these 
 pages the name of Lord Vernon. No work on Dante 
 would be complete without a word of recognition of his 
 
 Tf: 1 The more important of these essays have been translated by Messrs. 
 
 Lawrence and Wicksteed and pubHshed by Duckworth & Co., London, 1898, 
 
DANTE'S COMMENTATORS. 289 
 
 services to students of the immortal poet. As we have seen, 
 he published, at his own expense, the first four comment- 
 aries on the "Divine Comedy". He also published one of 
 the noblest editions of the "Commedia" that has ever 
 appeared. Finally, the libraries of the world owe to his 
 munificence a splendid reprint of the first four editions of 
 the " Divine Comedy "} He had intended to follow up his 
 labours by giving to the world the Latin text of Benvenuto's 
 commentary. Death, however, came upon him before he 
 could accomplish his design. It was taken up by his second 
 son, the Hon. Wm. Warren Vernon, and with the assistance 
 of Sir James Lacaita, successfully executed. 
 
 To this same distinguished son of Lord Vernon, 
 we owe one of the most valuable works on the " Divine 
 Comedy '* that has ever been printed in England. His 
 "Readings" on the "Inferno" and " Purgatorio " are before 
 the public for some years, two volumes on each part. Two 
 volumes on the " Paradiso " are expected very soon, and 
 when they appear Mr, Vernon will have accomplished a task 
 of which any scholar might be proud. He follows the system 
 of Benvenuto da Imola as to divisions and method ; and 
 although we cannot accept his views on all sorts of questions 
 in history, philosophy and theology, a writer more courteous 
 towards those with whom he differs it would be difficult to 
 find. 
 
 '"Le Prime Quattro Edizioni della Divina Commedia." Letteralmente, 
 ristampate, per Cura di G. G. Warren, Lord Vernon. London, Boone, 1858. 
 
 19 
 
290 
 
 DANTE AN ORTHODOX CATHOLIC. 
 
 La Chiesa Militante alcun figliuolo 
 Non ha con piu speranza. — Par. xxv. 
 
 In the early part of this century it used to be the fashion in 
 England to represent Dante as one of the precursors of the 
 Reformation. Two Italian refugees, who were also men of 
 great distinction in the literary world, repaid the hospitality 
 they received in London by encouraging this pretention. 
 Foscolo's articles in the " Edinburgh Review," ^ and Rossetti's 
 work on what he calls the " Anti-Papal Spirit that Produced 
 the' Reformation," ^ were received with applause by that narrow 
 section of the British public whose fundamental principle in 
 religion is hatred of the Pope. As the era of intolerance and 
 of religious persecution was fading away and people were 
 beginning to examine the works of the Middle Ages on their 
 merits, it became important to accentuate in them every echo 
 of a revolt against the Church that could be caught up in 
 the imposing monuments they had left behind. 
 
 " Protestantism," as Ozanam justly remarks, " had felt 
 the need of creating for itself some sort of genealogy which 
 would link it with the age of the Apostles. For this purpose 
 
 1 1818. 
 
 2 " SuUo Spirito Antipapale che produsse La Reforma." Rossetti maintained 
 that after the dispersion of the Albigenses, numerous sects were formed in Italy, 
 notably the Pastorelli, the Flagellanti, and the Fratricelli, who prepared the 
 way for Wickliffe, Huss and Luther. Side by side with these was a literary 
 secret society, to which Dante, Petrarch and Boccaccio belonged. Their object 
 was to promote civil and religious liberty, of which Beatrix, Laura and Fiammetta 
 were the symbolic types. Their language was a jargon, the secret of which is 
 lost. 
 
DANTE AN ORTHODOX CATHOLIC. 291 
 
 its promoters went about, stirring up the dry bones of every 
 cemetery and of every ruin ; interrogating the dead and the 
 institutions that had fallen ; making for themselves a family 
 of the heretics of every age ; seeking out the most audacious 
 innovators of the Middle Ages in order to claim their paternity. 
 It was enough that a few bitter words should have fallen 
 from the pen of a celebrated man on the abuses of his con- 
 temporaries to secure him admission into the catalogue of 
 those so-called witnesses to the truth." ^ 
 
 It is curious to trace the fitful glimmerings of this old 
 torch through the various works on Dante that have since 
 appeared in England. It flickers still, but only in the socket. 
 When we find dignitaries^ of the Protestant Church of our 
 own day calling upon their countrymen to blow it out, we 
 may rest assured that it will be soon extinguished. 
 
 " It is," writes Dean Church, " confusing the feelings of 
 the Middle Ages with our own to convert every fierce attack 
 on the Popes into an anticipation of Luther. Strong language 
 of this sort was far too commonplace to be so significant. 
 When the Middle Ages complained, they did so with a full- 
 voiced and clamorous rhetoric, which greedily seized on every 
 topic of vilification within its reach. It was far less singular 
 and far less bold to criticise ecclesiastical authorities than 
 is often supposed ; but it by no means implied unsettled faith, 
 or a revolutionary design." 
 
 In a somewhat similar strain, the late Principal Caird, of 
 Glasgow University, wrote a few years ago ^ : — 
 
 " The attempts made," he says, " to prove that Dante was a 
 * Reformer before the Reformation ' or a ' Revolutionist before 
 
 1 " Catalogus Testium Veritatis." By Flaccus lUyricus. (Frankowitz.) 
 ^See " Dante and Other Essays." By R. W. Church, Dean of St. Paul's, 
 p. 128. 
 
 , , ^See in the "Contemporary Review,'' June, i8go, "The Theology and 
 
 Ethics of Dante ". 
 
292 DANTE AN ORTHODOX CATHOLIC. 
 
 the Revolution,' are, in the sense in which they were made, 
 vain and futile ; and in spite of the rough way in which he 
 denounces the state of things ecclesiastical and political, 
 writers like Ozanam and Hettinger have no difficulty in 
 showing Dante's complete orthodoxy and his complete accept- 
 ance of the Catholic system of life and thought. Even from 
 the first the Catholic Church recognised that the attacks of 
 Dante were the wounds of a friend, and that it would be an 
 absurdity to put in the Index a poem which was the most 
 eloquent of all expressions of its own essential ideas." 
 
 "We protest," writes Russell Lowell,^ "against the parochial 
 criticism which would degrade Dante to a mere partisan, which 
 sees in him a Luther before his time, and would clap the 
 bonnet rouge upon his heavenly muse." 
 
 In the last of the English works on Dante that has come 
 into our hands we read : — 
 
 " It may be declared at once that there is not the very 
 smallest ground for claiming Dante, in this respect, as a 
 ' Reformer before the Reformation '. There is no trace 
 in his writings of doubt or dissatisfaction respecting any 
 part of the teaching of the Church in matters of doctrine 
 authoritatively laid down. He would have probably considered 
 any such feeling as most presumptuous, and, indeed as little 
 short of blasphemous. A great deal has been written about 
 his supposed defence of the right of ' private judgment,' of 
 his alleged sympathy with ' free thinking,' or with ' philosophic 
 doubt,' and so forth. Of this also it appears to me that no 
 evidence can be found. There seems every reason to believe 
 him to have been a firm, faithful and devoted son of the 
 Church, without any misgiving as to her teaching or as to 
 her indefeasible right to teach." ^ 
 
 It is impossible for any unprejudiced reader of Dante to 
 
 ' " Literary Essays,'' vol. iv., p. i6o. 
 
 '^ Moore, " Studies in Dante," vol. ii., pp. 65, 66. 
 
DANTE AN ORTHODOX CATHOLIC. 293 
 
 come to any other conclusion ; for all the distinctive doctrines 
 of the Catholic Creed are embodied and professed in his poem. 
 Ozanam ^ has rendered an incalculable service to all students 
 of literature, a service which has been universally acknow- 
 ledged, by showing the conformity of Dante's philosophical 
 principles with those of St. Thomas and his school, and 
 through them with those of Aristotle. The fundamental 
 conceptions of good and evil are the same in the " Divina 
 Commedia " and the " Summa ". The extent of the authority 
 of human reason ; the province of the senses ; the universal and 
 the individual ; the creation of the soul, its spirituality and 
 immortality ; its substantial union with the body, and its im- 
 perfection apart from the body ; the distinction of the faculties 
 from the essence ; the nature of form and of substance ; their 
 origin, duration and change ; all are in perfect accord with the 
 teaching of the most orthodox philosophers of the schools. 
 
 Cornoldi,^ Hettinger ^ and Berthier * have carried Ozanam's 
 work a step farther and shown the soundness of Dante's 
 
 1 " Dante ne recourait aux expressions d'Aristote que pour conserver la tradi- 
 tion de ses idees ontologiques ; il gardait le fil afin de penetrer a son gre dans la 
 labyrinthe. De la ces considerations profondes sur I'essence et la cause, cette 
 distinction souvent repetee de la substance et de 1' accident, de la necessite et de 
 la contingence, de la puissance et de I'acte, de la matiere et de la forme. Ces 
 abstractions ne sont pas denuees de valeur. Le genre est reellement dans 
 I'espece, I'espece dans I'individu ; elles forment comme la trame subtile sur 
 laquelle viennent se dessiner toutes les realites vivantes. Ainsi I'a prononce le 
 maitre: ainsi I'a entendu le disciple." — " Dante et la Philosophie Catholique au 
 Xllle Siecle," p. 295. 
 
 ^" La Divina Commedia Col Commento." Rome, 1887. 
 
 ^ Dante's " Divina Commedia: Its Scope and Value ". Translated by Fr. 
 Sebastian Bowden of the Oratory. 
 
 As Fr. Bowden says in his interesting preface to this work : " The subject- 
 matter of the poem is the redemption of sinful man and his ascent, by grace and 
 repentance, from earth to heaven. Hell puts before us the sinner obdurate and 
 chastised ; Purgatory the penitent absolved and advanced in virtue ; Paradise 
 the summit gained and the reward of those who persevere. The idea in its 
 development embraces the whole circle of Catholic theology demonstrated 
 according to the scholastic method of Dante's time, but expressed in form 
 and language solely his own," p. vi. 
 
 * " La Divina Commedia con Comment!," etc. 
 
294 DANTE AN ORTHODOX CATHOLIC. 
 
 principles on the great questions of mysteries and of miracles, of 
 creation and of free will, of merit and of sin, of the sacraments 
 and sacrifice, of redemption and justification, of rewards and 
 punishments, of the nature of God and of the Beatific Vision. 
 
 We can only refer our readers to these authorities. Here, 
 however, we wish to call attention to the sixth circle of Hell, 
 which is reserved for heretics and for authors of schism and 
 disturbance, as well as for disciples of Epicurus — the unbelievers 
 of the thirteenth century — men like Frederick II., whose 
 court was a centre of impiety, superstition and licence ; like 
 Cavalcanti the elder ; like Farinata degli Uberti. These 
 were the so-called strong minds of the age, men of learning 
 and of independent character, who threw off the religious yoke, 
 but who, to Dante's mind, must pay the penalty of their 
 independence by their eternal damnation. 
 
 A place is also ready there, with Mahomet and his tribe, 
 for Fra Dolcino,i the leader of the Fratricelli, who in Dante's 
 time preached community of goods and plurality of wives — a 
 sort of Middle Age Brigham Young, whose reputation is still 
 dear to some of our Protestant contemporaries.^ They must, 
 indeed, be sadly in need of ancestors when they lay claim to 
 Fra Dolcino. If however, there are any still amongst them 
 who are anxious for the paternity of this disreputable mis- 
 creant, we are quite willing to make them a present of him. 
 If they are satisfied with such a reformer of the Papacy and 
 its morals it is really not hard to please them. But as it is 
 the same class of people who usually claim Dante and Fra 
 Dolcino, we would merely suggest that they cannot have both 
 together. We cannot give them Dante. To Fra Dolcino 
 they are quite welcome. 
 
 1 In Malebolge, Ninth Foss, " Inf.,'" xxviii. 
 
 2 See " A Dictionary of Proper Names and Notable Matters in the Works 
 of Dante " By Paget Toynbee, M.A., Baliol College, Oxford. Clarendon 
 Press, 1898. Article on " Dolcino, Fra" 
 
DANTE AN ORTHODOX CATHOLIC. 295 
 
 In the days of Bellarmine ^ an attempt was made, which has 
 often since been repeated, to prove that Dante did not believe 
 in the virtue of the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, and the lines 
 in canto xxxiii. of " Purgatorio " were triumphantly quoted : — 
 
 Sappi che il vaso che '1 serpente ruppe, 
 Fu e non e, ma chi 'n la colpa creda 
 Che vendetta da Dio non teme suppe.^ 
 
 It is unnecessary to say that Dante had no such blas- 
 phemous intention as that attributed to him, and that far 
 from designating the contents of the sacred chalice as " suppe,'' 
 he was alluding to a superstition that existed in Florence in 
 his day, according to which the perpetrator of murder or 
 homicide would escape punishment if he could succeed in 
 eating bread dipped in wine on the tomb of his victim. As a 
 matter of fact Dante here threatens the divine vengeance on 
 Philippe Le Bel, and assures him that the above-mentioned 
 practice of the Florentines will prove of no avail on the day of 
 retribution.^ 
 
 Bellarmine also disposed of the old argument drawn from 
 
 ' " In eo vero quod de pane et vino scripsit Dantes explicando toto coelo ad- 
 versarius aberravit; nam Landinus, qui commentarium in Dantem scripsit, ex 
 testimonio Imolensis antiqui interpretis hujus poetae et ex monumentis filii 
 ejusdem Dantis et ex communi Florentinorum sensu docet allusisse Dantem hoc 
 loco ad superstitionem quae suo tempore vigebat Florentiae ; existimabant enim 
 illius aetatis homines eos qui homicidium perpetrassent non posse in manus 
 inimicorum devenire si super occisi tumulum panem vino maceratum come- 
 dissent ; atque ea de causa cognati ejus qui caesus fuerat diligenter costodiebant 
 tumulum ne forte homicidae super eum cibo illo vescerentur, antequam caedem 
 alia caede ulti essent. Dantes respiciens minatur divinam vindictam iis qui 
 Ecclesiam male vivendo deformant ; atque addit eis minime profuturum super- 
 stitionem illam quam sibi prodesse parricidae falso atque impie credunt." — 
 Bellarmini, " Op. Om.," vol. iv., " De Controversiis, De Summo Pontifice,'' p. 14. 
 
 ^ Thus far be taught of me, 
 The vessel which thou saw'st the serpent break 
 Was and is not. Let him who'Jhath the blame 
 Hope not to scare God's vengeance with a sop. 
 
 — " Purg.," xxxiii. ; Gary's Translation. 
 ^See Vernon, " Readings on the Purgatorio," vol. ii., p. 428. 
 
296 DANTE AN ORTHODOX CATHOLIC. 
 
 the prophetic lines of the same canto, in which promise is made 
 of a leader who will come to set all things right between the 
 civil and ecclesiastical powers. The Protestants of former 
 days, in the intensity of their desire to count Dante as one 
 of their own, attributed to him the miraculous gift of prophecy, 
 and accordingly claimed that Luther was the D-U-X, or leader, 
 mentioned. Protestant German scholars of recent times treat 
 the contention with ridicule, and we need not dwell further 
 upon it. 
 
 It will, we imagine, be sufificent for us to direct attention 
 to that passage of the " Convito " in which the author speaks 
 of Holy Church as the Spouse and Secretary of Christ, of whom 
 Solomon had said, " Who is she that goeth up by the desert, 
 full of things that delight, leaning on her beloved ? " ^ to those 
 verses of " Paradiso " in which he tells all christians that they 
 have the " Old and the New Testament and the Pastor of the 
 Church," which is enough for their guidance ; ^ to the passages 
 in " Purgatorio " in which he distinctly proclaims the validity 
 of the Pope's excommunication, and of prayers for the dead, 
 in the case of Manfred of Naples.' We have already drawn 
 attention to several passages in which he professes his belief 
 in indulgences, in the power of the keys, in the intercession of 
 the saints, in the blessings conferred upon the world by the 
 religious orders of the Church, the anchorites of the desert, the 
 congregation of the Holy Office. We have seen the glorious 
 address of St. Bernard to the Virgin Mother,* an address 
 which may well put to shame those who accuse the Catholic 
 Church of Mariolatry. We have seen that Providence had 
 prepared the world for Christianity by setting up the Empire 
 
 ' See " Canticle of Canticles," iii. 6. 
 
 ^Avete il vecchio e '1 nuovo Testamento, 
 E il Pastor della chiesa che vi guida, 
 Questo vi basti a vostro salvamento. 
 
 3 " Purg.," canto iii. ■* " Paradiso," canto xxxiii. 
 
DANTE AN ORTHODOX CATHOLIC. 297 
 
 of Rome and making the eternal city the seat of the Papacy.^ 
 We have seen everywhere a respect for order, a desire for 
 peace, a perpetual invocation of the reign of justice. The 
 sublime liturgy of the church, its hymns, its processions, 
 its sacred emblems have never been spoken of with more 
 veneration or with a truer appreciation of their signifi- 
 cance. 
 
 There remains the question of the Popes whom Dante 
 condemns to hell ; but it must be remembered that he also 
 places Popes in purgatory and in heaven, and that those whom 
 he condemns are chiefly contemporaries of his own, to whose 
 influence he attributed much of his misfortune. But if Dante 
 condemns Boniface VIII., Clement V., and John XXII., it is 
 not their office but what he regarded as their personal de- 
 linquencies he condemns. Boniface he looked upon as the 
 author of his ruin and the cause of the transfer of the Papacy 
 to Avignon, which to all Italians was the unpardonable crime ; 
 yet when Boniface, in the majesty of his old age and of his 
 misfortune, was outraged by the emissaries of Philippe Le 
 Bel, Dante's faith entirely reasserted itself He speaks of him 
 as Christ's Vicar, or rather he sees Christ Himself captive in 
 His Vicar. The vinegar and gall once more proferred to His lips. 
 He is crucified again between living thieves. This passage of 
 the " Purgatorio" (xx., 29) redeems all that is said elsewhere 
 to the detriment of Boniface. 
 
 Finally, even though Dante in his work " De Monarchia " ^ 
 argues the independence in civil affairs of the Empire from 
 the Church, he requires nevertheless that the Emperor 
 should show all possible reverence to the Pope, and, 
 to some extent at least, even in civil matters, be subject to 
 him, looking up to him as a first born son to a father, in order 
 
 ' " Inferno," canto ii. 
 '^ Book iii. 
 
298 DANTE AN ORTHODOX CATHOLIC. 
 
 that he may be illumined by the rays of that paternal grace 
 which irradiates the world.^ 
 
 That there are some things in Dante's works which shock 
 the piety of Catholics, no one can deny ; but, as Ozanam truly 
 reminds us, " allowance must be made for the waywardness 
 of genius," and, in order to measure the hurtfulness of his 
 outbursts against the state of things, civil and ecclesiastical, 
 that existed in his day, we must look to the spirit that 
 dictated them and the purpose at which they aimed. The 
 spirit on the whole was undoubtedly pure, and the object, 
 though Utopian, and, in the main, impossible, was neither 
 mean nor unworthy of the noblest dreamer. We are well 
 aware that an effort was one time made to have the " Divina 
 Commedia " placed on the Index ; but the great poet found 
 no less a champion than the illustrious Cardinal Bellarmine, 
 and the absurdity of the proposal has since been universally 
 acknowledged. All that remains now for the enemies of the 
 Papacy is to proclaim that, though Dante was a firm believer 
 in all the essential doctrines of the Catholic Church, he was 
 none the less a strenuous opponent of the temporal sovereignty 
 of the Popes. Here, no doubt, they are on more specious, 
 though not upon more solid, ground. We shall examine the 
 question in a special section. 
 
 ^ Quae quidem Veritas non sic striate accipienda est ut Romanus Princeps in 
 aliquo Romano Pontifici non subjaceat ; quum mortalis ista felicitas quodammodo 
 ad immortalem felicitatem ordinetur. Ilia igitur reverentia Caesar utatur ad 
 Petrum qua primogenitus filius debet uti ad patrem ; ut luce paternae gratiae 
 illustratus, virtuosius orbem terrae irradiet, cui ab illo solo praefectus est qui est 
 omnium spiritualium et temporalium gubernator. 
 
299 
 
 DANTE AND THE POPE'S TEMPORAL POWER. 
 
 We must disclaim here all intention of setting up Dante's 
 authority as decisive, one way or the other, of the question, 
 whether temporal sovereignty is or is not essential to the 
 Pope for the full and free discharge of his spiritual office. It 
 is surely not to be contended that a poet of the Middle 
 Ages, no matter how lofty his genius, or how sublime his work> 
 should be placed on a level with the inspired writers whose 
 words put an end to every controversy when interpreted by 
 the living voice of the Church. 
 
 It is something, however, that Italians should appeal to 
 the memory of their great men, and to the intellectual tradi- 
 tions of their country, in defence of the policy which has 
 despoiled the Pope and robbed the Catholic world of the 
 dignity and independence of its chief. This appeal they have 
 boldly made ; and that they have found the approval they 
 seek amongst some of the turbulent spirits of former ages there 
 is no denying. Arnold of Brescia, Fra Dolcino, Giordano 
 Bruno, Pomponio Leti, Machiavelli, would most probably be 
 found on their side were they alive to-day. 
 
 Can the same be said of Tasso, of Petrarch, of Boccaccio ? 
 Can it be said of Raphael and of Michael Angelo, of 
 Brunelleschi and of Leonardo da Vinci ? Above all, can it 
 be said of Dante ? 
 
 Before we examine any of the arguments put forward by 
 our opponents on this question, we wish to lay down a pro- 
 position which we think will be universally admitted, viz.. 
 
300 DANTE AND THE POPE'S TEMPORAL POWER. 
 
 that whatever may be said of matters of detail, the funda- 
 mental principle which has been, as it were, the mainspring 
 of the Italian revolution, is diametrically opposed to the 
 principle on which Dante based the fabric of his " Monarchy "■ 
 The ground on which Italian liberals have taken their stand 
 is this — that the source from which all civil authority is 
 derived — the judge in the last resort of all political right and 
 justice — is the multitude. Those who exercise power directly, 
 do so merely as the delegates of the people ; these are the 
 real rulers ; to them, and to them alone, belongs the right 
 to determine, to change, or to modify, the structure of their 
 civil institutions, and the form of government under which 
 they may choose to live. This is not the place to discuss the 
 soundness or the truth of this theory of power. It is the 
 theory of Rousseau and of the eighteenth century philosophers ; 
 but whatever may be thought of it as a starting-point of ethics 
 and of morality, it is certainly not the principle from which 
 Dante derived the lawfulness of his " Monarchy ".^ Dante 
 believes that the subject in which power resides is, of neces- 
 sity, different from the people ; and it takes him one whole 
 book of the " Monarchia " to establish the power of his 
 emperor on an independent basis of natural and eternal 
 right. According to the liberal principle, government is 
 the reflection of the sovereign will of the people ; the king 
 reigns but does not govern ; the people are the ultimate 
 judges of right and wrong, of what is true and false, moral 
 and immoral ; they are the real rulers, and their verdict is 
 supreme. According to Dante, human government should be 
 the reflection of the heavenly order : his monarchy should 
 have the greatest possible splendour ; his emperor would have 
 jurisdiction over the whole world ; he would be an absolute 
 prince, the image of God, ruling all with indisputed sway. 
 
 1 C/. " II Dominio Temporale dei Papi nel Concetto Politico di Dante Alli- 
 ghieri." Per F. Berardinelli, S.J., passim. 
 
DANTE AND THE POPE'S TEMPORAL POWER. 301 
 
 The aristocracy of this world-ruling potentate, supreme in 
 temporals as the Pope is supreme in spirituals, would be 
 represented by the kings and princes of particular nations, 
 who should continue to be real sovereigns, but at the same 
 time subordinate to the emperor in temporals as vassals 
 to a suzerain. The emperor would compose their difficulties, 
 heal their quarrels, check their covetousness, and keep them 
 all on a footing of peace and justice. They should retain all 
 their traditional rights and enjoy absolute autonomy in all 
 that concerned their domestic affairs ; but they should acknow- 
 ledge the supreme ruler as the ultimate judge and arbiter of 
 these rights.^ In this way, as Lowell says, the Pope would be 
 " the feudatory of the Emperor " in temporal matters, and the 
 Emperor would be the most docile of the children of the 
 Church in the spiritual order. 
 
 By what concourse of circumstances the Popes came to 
 occupy the position of mediators, and to hold, besides their 
 temporal dominion, a sort of civil primacy in the world, is 
 known to all who are acquainted with the early history and 
 formation of European nations. It was beyond question a 
 high tribute to the justice and impartiality of the Popes of the 
 Middle Ages that they should have been made the arbitrators 
 of so many quarrels and the depositaries of so much power. 
 Such confidence was won by pure merit, and was maintained 
 and strengthened by the force of circumstances. We are not 
 called upon to inquire either into the uses to which it was 
 turned nor to the causes of its decline. One thing, however, 
 is certain, viz., that it was to this civil primacy of the Popes 
 
 ^ Advertendum sane est quod cum dicitur humanum genus potest regi per 
 unum supremum principem non sic intelligendum est ut minima judicia cujus- 
 cumque municipii ab illo uno immediate prodire possint. Habent namque 
 nationes, regna, civitates inter se proprietates quae legibus differentibus regulari 
 oportet. Est enim lex Regnla directiva vitae. Sed sic intelligendum est ut 
 humanum genus secundum sua communia quae omnibus competunt ab eo regatur 
 et communi regula gubernetur ad pacem. — " Mon.," i., p. i6. 
 
302 DANTE AND THE POPE'S TEMPORAL POWER. 
 
 that Dante objected, and not to the temporal power under- 
 stood in its restricted and modern sense. This was the test- 
 point between Guelphs and GhibelHnes — whether the Pope or 
 the Emperor was to be supreme in the pohtical world. It is, 
 in our opinion, to this authority, frequently exercised in favour 
 of the people against their feudal lords, frequently wielded in 
 defence of Italian freedom against German encroachments, 
 frequently exercised to protect the church against the un- 
 scrupulous cupidity of kings and princes, that Europe owes 
 most of the liberty and predominance in the world which she 
 enjoys to-day. Dante, first as a Ghibelline, and then as a 
 Utopian dreamer, held that it was the cause of all social and 
 political confusion. Who will say that in such matters he was 
 an unprejudiced and impartial judge ? 
 
 But supposing all that is attributed to him in this respect 
 represented his genuine convictions, it would still fall wide of 
 the mark. The papal supremacy in temporals, which he con- 
 demned, differs in all essentials from the temporal sovereignty 
 in a small state of which the Roman Pontiffs have been robbed 
 in our days. When he accuses ecclesiastical government of 
 confounding the crozier with the sword, he has always in his 
 mind, not the temporal sovereignty of the Popes in a small king- 
 dom, but their real or fancied supremacy in the whole political 
 world. This was the supremacy which the Guelphs, for their 
 own purposes, attributed to the Popes, but which the Popes 
 themselves never in reality claimed.^ If this distinction is 
 kept well in mind it will be clearly seen that Dante was no 
 opponent of the temporal power. If the two things are con- 
 
 1 One of the reasons why the " De Monarchia " was put on the " Index " 
 was that it attributed to the Popes a claim which they never had made. Dante, 
 however, draws a clear distinction between them and the Guelphs. The ecclesias- 
 tical personages who aimed at the temporal control of the world were actuated, 
 he said, by zeal and other noble motives ; but the Guelphs, who proclaimed them- 
 selves sons of the Church whilst in reality they were of their father the devil, 
 ■were moved by blind and obstinate cupidity. — See " De Monarchia," book iii. 
 
DANTE AND THE POPE'S TEMPORAL POWER. 303 
 
 founded, all the texts which Witte, Grimm, Scartazzini, Agnelli, 
 and their followers,^ have so laboriously woven together will 
 prove absolutely nothing. There must be no ignoratio elenchi 
 in this matter. We are quite well aware that the confusion 
 has been made by almost every English writer on Dante. 
 Hence our desire to put our readers on their guard against 
 charmers who harp on a totally different string from that 
 on which Dante played.^ 
 
 The Pope, under Dante's Emperor, would continue to hold 
 his temporal possessions, and would at the same time exercise 
 over the Emperor a benign and paternal influence, which 
 would be the natural outcome of his spiritual authority, and 
 which would lead the temporal ruler along the path of justice 
 and of peace, and keep him from developing into an oppressor 
 and a tyrant. 
 
 (i) In the second canto of the " Inferno" Dante acknow- 
 ledges the admirable providence of God by which Rome was 
 prepared in the eternal design to be the centre of the spiritual 
 world and the temporal seat of Christ's Vicar on earth, and 
 by which the empire subject to Rome was made ready for the 
 reception of the Gospel. 
 
 La quale e il quale (a voler dir lo vero) 
 Fur stabiliti per lo loco santo, 
 U' siede il successor del maggior Piero.' 
 
 This was an idea that had been eloquently developed by 
 St. Augustine * and by St. Leo the Great.^ It cost Dante, the 
 Ghibelline, something to make this admission : hence — " a 
 voler dir lo vero," as if he felt constrained to tell the truth. 
 
 '^See Arts, by Agnelli in the "Giornale Dantesco". Anno v., Quaderni 
 iv., v., vi. 
 
 ^ "Convito," iv. 
 
 2 But this and that, to speak truth definite, 
 
 Were fixed and 'stablished for the Holy See, 
 In which Great Peter's Vicar sits of right. 
 
 * De Civitate Dei, lib. v. ^ germ, in Epiph., ii. 
 
304 DANTE AND THE POPE'S TEMPORAL POWER. 
 
 Even such anti-papal writers as Orlandini^ are obliged to 
 admit that the evident sense of this passage, such as it is 
 found in the text of most editions of the "Divine Comedy," 
 is that " if we wish to speak in good faith we must confess 
 that Rome and its empire, founded when Aeneas visited 
 Elysium, were providentially established for the chair of Peter, 
 or, in other words, for the Pontiffs, who alone were to rule in 
 the city of the seven hills, and to hold there both spiritual and 
 temporal sway". At the time Dante wrote these lines the 
 Popes were sitting in the chair of Peter and wielding in Rome 
 the double sceptre. If he considered their occupation of that 
 position as an evil or a calamity he would not have hesitated 
 to say so. He does nothing of the kind. He never any- 
 where says anything that could be construed into a recom- 
 mendation to his countrymen to deprive the Popes of the 
 territory which the piety of ages had conferred upon them. 
 
 He called no doubt with all his heart and soul for a 
 Roman Emperor who would surpass in power and greatness 
 any monarch that had ever lived ; but he never says any- 
 where that he should despoil the Pope, and even if he were to 
 reside in Rome he would not interfere with the rule of the 
 Popes in their own dominions except to help in fostering their 
 temporal prosperity and to be in close relations with such a 
 source of wisdom and justice as the Holy See. 
 
 (2) In the last cantos of " Purgatorio" we have noticed 
 among the illustrious personages who follow the mystic 
 Chariot the fair figure of the Countess Matilda, who has 
 access, like Beatrice, to this region of Purgatory, from her 
 home in Paradise. Now, what is the title of this noble princess 
 to such distinction ? Is it not that she defended the patrimony 
 of St. Peter against Henry IV., and augmented it by generous 
 
 ^ " Giornale del Centenario di Dante," p. 6. Orlandini had recourse to a 
 device of his own to pervert the sense of this passage. He says there should be 
 a note of interrogation after " Piero " as if the author spoke in irony. It is really 
 a device, worthy of the cause. 
 
DANTE AND THE POPE'S TEMPORAL POWER. 305 
 
 donations of her own ? We are well aware that Costa, 
 Bianchi, and other modern commentators deny that Matilda 
 is the personage alluded to in these cantos — 
 
 The lady, all alone, who as she went 
 
 Sang evermore, and scattered flower on flower, 
 With whose bright hues her path was all besprent. 
 
 But all the older commentators, Pietro, Jacopo della Lana, 
 Benvenuto, and Buti, agree that she is the personage in- 
 tended. Even in recent times Blanc ^ and Tommaseo, who 
 will not be suspected of partiality for the papacy, admit that 
 Matilda and no other is the " Donna Soletta ". If Dante 
 wanted to destroy the Pope's temporal power why should he 
 crown with glory the person who defended and strengthened it ? 
 
 (3) Amidst the ruins of the Roman empire, towards the 
 end of the eighth century, the kings and dukes of Lombardy 
 advanced certain pretensions over the rest of Italy not at all 
 unlike those which Victor Emmanuel, Cavour and Garibaldi 
 have enforced by fraud and violence in our own days. Had 
 the Lombards kept within the bounds of reason and justice 
 they might have then established a stronghold in the north of 
 Italy which would have saved their country from many a 
 subsequent invasion ; but like the Piedmontese of later times, 
 they coveted the states of the Church, and laid sacrilegious 
 hands on the patrimony of St. Peter. They would have then, 
 in all probability, done what the House of Savoy has now 
 achieved, had not Charlemagne come to the assistance of the 
 Church. 
 
 And when the Lombard tooth began to bite 
 The Holy Church, beneath its sheltering wing, 
 Came Charlemagne to help with conquering might.'' 
 
 1 See Blanc, " Vocabulario Dantesco," Matilda. See also Balbo, " Vita di 
 Dante," book i., chap, ii., p. 16. 
 
 ' E quando '1 dente Longobardo morse 
 La santa Chiesa, sotto alle sue ali 
 Carlo Magno, vincendo, la soccorse. 
 20 
 
306 DANTE AND THE POPE'S TEMPORAL POWER. 
 
 It is mainly for this achievement that the great Emperor 
 is placed in heaven with Godfrey de Bouillon, Robert Guiscard, 
 and many other upholders of the papal sovereignty ; for 
 Dante does not recognise him at all as in any sense the 
 real Roman Emperor.^ His defence of the Church and 
 of her temporal patrimony is his real title to the " lumen 
 glorise ". 
 
 (4) We have seen that when, on the death of Pope Clement 
 V. in 1 3 14, the Conclave had assembled at Carpentras, in the 
 south of France, for the election of his successor, Dante wrote 
 to the four Italian cardinals who had gone thither, representing 
 to them the sad condition of Rome, widowed of its Pontiff and 
 ruler. " How doth the city sit solitary that was full of people ! 
 How is she become as a widow, she who was mistress of the 
 Gentiles ! " In the most suppliant language he implores of 
 Cardinal Orsini to bring back the Pope to Rome, and if 
 possible to bring about the election of an Italian cardinal. 
 He speaks boldly of the cupidity that has been the cause of so 
 much ruin, but loudly proclaims that he does not put forth his 
 hand to the ark like Oza,^ the son of Aminadab, but to the 
 oxen who were refractory and drew in different directions. 
 He speaks of the Church as his "Most Holy Mother," "the 
 Bride of Christ," " the Bride of the Crucified ". He speaks of 
 the " Apostolic See, for which heaven and earth had been 
 reserved," and yearns for the day when the Shepherd will sit 
 once more on the "Throne of the Bride ". If Dante thought 
 that the temporal power of the Pope in a small state was the 
 greatest obstacle to the prosperity of Italy and to the happi- 
 ness of the world, is it likely that he would have thus ardently 
 desired the Pope's return to the Eternal City? Is it not 
 more probable that he would have endeavoured to keep the 
 Pontiff at a distance until his subjects should have entirely 
 emancipated themselves, and until Italy should have been 
 
 1 See the " De Monarchia," book iii. 2 3 Kings vi. 
 
DANTE AND THE POPE'S TEMPORAL POWER. 307 
 
 constituted in all her provinces entirely independent of his 
 control ? 
 
 There is absolutely no use in discussing texts of Dante's 
 works with those who confound the imperial authority with 
 the temporal power. It is time and trouble wasted. We 
 know these texts as well as our opponents. They are like 
 old familiar faces. There are the texts of the " Inferno " ^ 
 and " Paradiso " regarding Constantine ; there is the vision 
 of the Chariot and the Gryphon in " Furgatorio " ; there are 
 passages scattered all through the " Commedia " in which the 
 spirit of avarice and worldliness is severely blamed. Let the 
 student apply to each one of them the test that we have here 
 supplied, and he will find how readily the objection that is 
 deduced from them against the temporal power will fall to 
 pieces. 
 
 There is but one objection amongst all those that are 
 advanced to which we wish to say a word in reply. It is 
 drawn from a passage in the "De Monarchia," which says 
 that not only could the Emperor not make over his power or 
 any essential part of it on the Pope, but that the Pope is " ex 
 rei natura " incapable of accepting it : it would be invalid in 
 itself; for there is on the one side a radical incapacity to 
 give and on the other to receive, no man being at liberty 
 to sacrifice what Providence intended to be the essence of his 
 natural position or to accept the fruits of such a sacrifice, 
 should they be offered to him. Even here, the ever-recurring 
 distinction must be made : but, to put the matter beyond all 
 doubt, the author distinctly says : — 
 
 " Nevertheless the Emperor could, in support of the 
 Church, confer patrimony and other things, keeping always 
 intact the supreme dominion, the unity of which will not suffer 
 diminution. And the Vicar of Christ could receive them, not 
 
 ^ " Inferno," Mabebolge. " Paradiso," canto iv. 
 
308 DANTE AND THE POPE'S TEMPORAL POWER. 
 
 for himself, but as steward of their fruits for the church and 
 for the poor of Christ.^ " 
 
 Finally it will be noticed that all who made war on the 
 papal states in Dante's time or before it, have fared badly at 
 the poet's hands. ^ Even Manfred, who had the sympathy of 
 the Ghibellines, is in Purgatory, and the Pope's excommunica- 
 tion keeps him in bondage there for a term proportionate to 
 the duration of his offence. 
 
 True is it, who in contiumacy dies 
 Of Holy Church, though penitent at last, 
 Must wait upon the outside of this bank, 
 Thirty times told the time that he has been 
 In his presumption, unless such decree 
 Shorter by means of righteous prayers become.' 
 
 But in fact there is no need to add proof to proof. Taken 
 at the best Dante's Utopia is a magnificent dream, the realisa- 
 tion of which, in this plodding, practical world, amidst the vices 
 and the passions of a fallen race, is an utter impossibility. 
 If there is one thing that can be predicted with certainty in 
 spite of the conquests of science and the triumphs of modern 
 civilisation, it is that the nations of the world will never agree 
 to place universal power in the hands of a single individual. 
 The lessons of history would be sufficient to deter them. The 
 rivalry of powerful governments would stand for ever in the 
 way. The utopia was shattered in that garden of the golden 
 age where so many of the privileges destined for mankind 
 were wrecked for ever. We may linger in fancy on the things 
 "that might have been," and cultivate as best we may the 
 remnant of nobility which has survived that first catastrophe. 
 
 ' Poterat tamen Imperator, in patrocinium Ecclesiae, patrimonium dare et 
 alia deputare, immoto semper superior! dominio, cujus unitas divisionem non 
 patitur. Poterat et Vicarius Dei recipere, non tanquam possessor, sed tanquam 
 fructuum pro Ecclesia pro Christi pauperibus dispensator. — " De Monarchia," 
 iii. pp. 10-12. 
 
 ^See "Alcuni Studii su Dante AUighieri," del Professor Giacomo Poletto, 
 pp. 179-180. 
 
 3 " Purg. ," canto iii. Longfellow's Translation. 
 
DANTE AND THE POPE'S TEMPORAL POWER. 309 
 
 But we cannot undo the past. There is but one road through 
 which something of the original dignity can be recovered ; it 
 leads to repentance and atonement and through these to order, 
 to peace, to justice, to the concert of all that is good and 
 high and true, but not necessarily, we think, to the court of 
 Leviathan or to the palace of some new Domitian. 
 
 If Italy is wise she will come to terms with the papacy ; 
 she will restore the patrimony of St. Peter on which she has 
 laid sacrilegious hands. Until she does, the hand of catholic 
 Christendom will be raised up against her. She knows not 
 how or when it may strike. Everybody wishes her prosperity 
 and peace, and a future worthy of the great part she has played 
 in the history of civilisation. The world at large will rejoice 
 on the day she removes this blot from the shield that has 
 been emblazoned by the trials of three thousand years. For 
 her own sake, for the honour of the " great mantle " that has 
 shed so much glory upon the Latin race, for the appeasement 
 of two hundred million Catholics scattered over the globe, who 
 look up to the Holy Father as their spiritual chief and who 
 are outraged at the indignities heaped upon him, we trust and 
 pray that wiser counsels may at last prevail. 
 
 In the days of the prophet Samuel, the chosen people, who 
 for a long term had been governed by judges, grew tired of 
 what they regarded as a commonplace regime, and clamoured 
 for a king. They wished to be like other nations, and to 
 dazzle the world by the splendour of a monarchy. But Samuel, 
 whilst yielding to their demands, clearly foretold what the 
 change had in store for them.^ 
 
 " This will be the right of the king that shall reign over 
 you. He will take your sons and put them in his chariots, 
 and will make them his horsemen and his running footmen 
 to run before his chariots. 
 
 ^i Kings viii. 11-22. See also article of Mamiani "II Secolo di Dante," 
 p. 148. 
 
310 DANTE AND THE POPE'S TEMPORAL POWER. 
 
 " And he will appoint of them to be his tribunes and his 
 centurions, and to plough his fields, and to reap his corn, and 
 to make him arms and chariots. 
 
 " Your daughters also he will take to make him ointments, 
 and to be his cooks and bakers. 
 
 " And he will take your fields, and your vineyards, and 
 your best oliveyards, and give them to his servants. 
 
 "Your servants also and handmaids, and your goodliest 
 young men, and your asses he will take away and put them 
 to his work. 
 
 " Your flocks also he will tithe and you shall be his 
 servants. 
 
 " And you shall cry out in that day from the face of the 
 king, whom you have chosen to yourselves; and the Lord 
 will not hear you in that day, because you desired unto your- 
 selves a king. 
 
 " But the people would not hear the voice of Samuel, and 
 they said : Nay ; but there shall be a king over us. 
 
 " And we also shall be like all nations ; and our king shall 
 judge us and go out before us and fight our battles for us." ^ 
 
 The Israelites got their king, and we know the result. The 
 Italians also have got their king ; and one would really think 
 the prophecy of Samuel had been addressed to them, so fully 
 has it been verified in their case. 
 
 ^ Kings viii. , ii, 20. 
 
311 
 
 DANTE IN ENGLISH LITERATURE. 
 
 There is no country in Europe, outside of Italy, in which 
 the influence of Dante was felt so soon, or in which his merits 
 were so fully recognised, as in England. Chaucer, who was 
 born only a few years after the death of the great Italian 
 poet, was the contemporary of Petrarch and Boccaccio. He 
 paid two visits to Italy, once in the suite of Lionel, Duke 
 of Clarence, who went, in 1368, to marry Violante, daughter 
 of Galeazzo, Duke of Milan ; and again in 1373, when he 
 was sent southwards on state business by King Edward III. 
 On one or both of these occasions ^ he had an opportunity 
 of meeting Petrarch, then in the height of his fame, and, 
 through him, of getting access to a good deal of the current 
 literature of Italy. Hence, whilst the " Canterbury Tales " 
 were suggested by the " Decameron " and inspired by the 
 muse of the " Canzoniere," they are likewise full of allusions 
 to scenes and passages and sayings in the works of the " grete 
 poet of Itaille ". Thus when relating in the " Monkes Tale " 
 the tragic story of Ugolino, Chaucer refers his readers to the 
 lengthened account of the episode given in the " Inferno " : — 
 
 Whoso will heare it in a longer wise 
 Redeth the grete poete of Itaille, 
 That highte Dante ; for he can it devise 
 From point to point, not a word will he faille. 
 
 ' See papers on " Chaucer and Petrarch " in the " Athenaeum " of September, 
 i8g8, pp. 389, 419, by C. H. Bromby. See also " Prologue to the Gierke's 
 Tale " 
 
312 DANTE IN ENGLISH LITERATURE. 
 
 Again, in the " Nonnes Tale," he translates the beautiful 
 hymn to the Virgin from the last canto of " Paradiso '' : — 
 
 Thou raaide and mother, daughter of thy Sone ! 
 
 Thou welle of mercy synful soule's cure ! 
 
 In whom the God of bounty chus to wone ! 
 
 Thou humble and high over every creature ! 
 
 Thou nobledst so ferforth our nature, 
 
 That no disdeyn the Maker had of kynde 
 
 His Sone in blood and fleish to clothe and wynde. 
 
 He also borrows plentifully from Dante in the " House 
 of Fame," " The Assembly of Foules," " The Legend of Good 
 Women," The Clerkes Tale," and he openly proclaims his 
 indebtedness in the " Tale of the Wyf of Bathe ". 
 
 John Gower, Chaucer's contemporary and friend, in his 
 " Confessio Amantis," ^ tells us : — 
 
 How Dante, the poet, answerde 
 To a flatrour. 
 
 Lydgate, in his " Fall of Princes," speaks of the " laureate 
 poet of Florence, demure of look, fulfilled with patience " — 
 a description which indicates no slight acquaintance. 
 
 Sackville, Earl of Dorset, evidently borrowed his descrip- 
 tion of Hell, in his " Mirrour for Magistrates " from the 
 " Inferno ". Sir Philip Sydney in his " Defense of Poesy," 
 mentions Dante, Boccaccio and Petrarch, as " the first that 
 made the Italian language aspire to be a treasure house of 
 science ". Nay, more, we find clear proofs in the "Arcadia," 
 that the treasure house was drawn upon by Sir Philip himself 
 Spenser, although he proclaims his indebtedness to Homer 
 and Virgil, to Ariosto and Tasso, to Boccaccio and Clement 
 Marot, never mentions Dante's name.^ He was evidently 
 not willing that the world should know how much he had 
 borrowed from the father of modern poetry. Yet, as Russell 
 
 ^ Book vii. 
 
 ^ See the dedication of the " Faerie Queene " to Sir Walter Raleigh, and letter 
 to Gabriel Harvey on " Shepherd's Calendar ". Cf. " Faerie Queene, book ii., 
 chap, iii., 40, 41, with " Inf.," xxiv., 46, 52, and " Mother Hubberd's Tale," 892, 
 906, with " Paradiso," xi., 4, 12. 
 
DANTE IN ENGLISH LITERATURE. 313 
 
 Lowell has pointed out, oftentimes a few pregnant verses of 
 Dante are laboured into whole pages of stanzas, not only in 
 the " Faerie Queene," but in "Mother Hubberd's Tale," and 
 " The Shepherd's Calendar ". 
 
 A silence almost as complete is observed by Milton, who 
 clearly borrowed from Dante, more freely even than Spenser. 
 Shakespeare alone, of the great English poets, seems to have 
 had no detailed knowledge of Dante. With one possible 
 exception he makes no reference to his works. It is a 
 pity. We doubt not that his judgment would have been 
 more favourable than that of Goethe ; and it would have 
 been curious to note in what shape the great thoughts and 
 episodes of the "Commedia" would have issued from the 
 mind and imagination of the greatest of Dante's successors. He 
 who evolved the "Merchant of Venice'' and "Cymbeline" from 
 a few tales of Boccaccio, would surely have eagerly grasped 
 at the "Inferno" and " Purgatorio," had they come within 
 his reach. It seems certain, however, that the " Bard of 
 Avon" had acquired some general knowledge of the scope 
 and object of the " Divina Commedia," and with the modesty 
 of a great man he pays his tribute to the fame and genius 
 of its author. Writing of his own mistress, idealised like 
 Beatrice, he says : — 
 
 O how I faint when I of you do write, 
 Knowing a better spirit doth use your name, 
 
 And in the praise thereof spends all his might, 
 To make me tongue-tied, speaking of your fame ! 
 
 But since your worth (wide, as the ocean is). 
 The humble as the proudest sail doth bear. 
 
 My saucy bark, inferior far to his, 
 On your broad main doth wilfully appear. 
 
 Your shallowest help will hold me up afloat, 
 Whilst he upon your soundness deep doth ride ; 
 
 Or, being wreck'd, I am a worthless boat. 
 He of tall building, and of goodly pride : 
 
 Then if he thrive, and I be cast away. 
 
 The worst was this — my love was my decay .^ 
 
 ^ Sonnet Ixxx. 
 
314 DANTE IN ENGLISH LITERATURE. 
 
 Some passing allusions to Dante are found in the works of 
 Sir Thomas Browne and Jeremy Taylor. " Thenceforward," 
 as Lowell ^ says, " for more than a century Dante became 
 a mere name used without meaning by literary sciolists." 
 We find no further trace of him amongst English authors 
 until we discover the opening lines of the second canto of 
 the "Inferno" disguised in the first stanza of Gray's elegy. 
 For who could miss the kinship ? 
 
 The curfew tolls the knell at parting day ; 
 
 The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea ; 
 The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, 
 
 And leaves the world to darkness and to me. 
 
 The tone, the words, the pictures, the solemn stillness, are the 
 same in both. 
 
 " Lo giorno se n'andava e I'aer bruno 
 
 Toglieva gli animai, che sono in terra, 
 
 Dalle fatiche loro ; ed io sol uno 
 M'apparecchiava a sostener la guerra 
 
 Si del cammino e si della pietate, 
 
 Che ritrarra la mente che non erra." 
 
 The causes of Dante's eclipse during so long a period, 
 were religious and political as well as literary. At a time 
 when the fires were burning at Smithfield, and the pro- 
 cession of papists to Tyburn and the Tower seemed never 
 to end, Dante could not have been popular. It is curious 
 to note how steadily he has gained ground, and how 
 closely his return to favour has synchronised with the Catholic 
 reaction. This holds true, notwithstanding the fact that nearly 
 all the books on Dante that have been published in England 
 during the present century are the works of Protestants. The 
 circumstances that have favoured liberty of conscience and 
 
 _f ^ " Literary Essays," vol. iv., p. 146. 
 
DANTE IN ENGLISH LITERATURE. 315 
 
 equality before the law have also favoured the influence of 
 the great christian poet. 
 
 The first complete translation of Dante into English verse 
 was written by an Irishman, the Rev. Henry Boyd, M.A., 
 Protestant curate of Tullamore. It is written in six-line 
 stanzas and in double rhyme. Part of it — the " Inferno," 
 with an introduction, was published in 1785 and the whole 
 "Commedia"in 1802. The long eclipse of Dante's fame in 
 these countries Boyd attributes to the influence of France and 
 to what he calls the "epic " character of his poem. 
 
 " The venerable old bard," he writes, " who is the subject 
 of the present enquiry has been long neglected, perhaps for 
 that very reason, because his poem could not be tried by the 
 reigning laws of which the author was ignorant, or which he 
 did not chuse to observe. He always, indeed, was a favourite 
 with such as were possest of true taste, and dared to think for 
 themselves ; but since the French, the restorers of the art of 
 criticism, cast a damp upon original invention, the character 
 of Dante has been thrown under a deep shade. That agree- 
 able and volatile nation found in themselves an insuperable 
 aversion to the gloomy and romantic bard, whose genius, 
 ardent, melancholy and sublime, was so different from their 
 own : and it is well known how soon they became the sovereign 
 arbiters of taste, and how universally the French school of 
 composition succeeded to the Italian. Like Shakespeare, the 
 poetry of Dante, unfettered by rules, is distinguished by bold 
 strokes of sublimity and pathos, and often by just and striking 
 delineations of character ; but the nature of epic poetry (if 
 his will be allowed that name) and the obscurity of his language 
 deprived him of some advantages possessed by the British bard. 
 An epic poet cannot immediately appeal to the feelings of 
 the crowd as a writer of the drama can. He must be content 
 with the approbation of the studious, or at least of such as 
 have leisure to read ; but the dramatist, even if his genius be 
 
316 DANTE IN ENGLISH LITERATURE. 
 
 not of the foremost kind has the assistance of the actor to 
 invigorate his sentiments. His heroes appear to the naked 
 ■eye : the heroes of epic poetry only are seen through the 
 telescope of fancy by the eye of the recluse contemplatist : the 
 former are favourites of the multitude, and the multitude gives 
 immediate fame. The laurels of the heroic bard are of more 
 tardy growth and are more at the mercy of chance. To be 
 convinced that this diversity proceeds from the operation of 
 causes that act uniformly, we need only reflect on the different 
 fortunes of Homer and his three pupils, ^Eschylus, Sophocles 
 and Euripides, during their lives, not to mention our own 
 Milton and Shakespeare." ^ 
 
 For the sake of our common country we quote the intro- 
 ductory lines of Boyd's translation, which, it will be seen, are 
 heroic in the fullest sense. 
 
 When life had labour'd up her midmost stage, 
 And, weary with her mortal pilgrimage. 
 Stood in suspense upon the point of Prime ; 
 Far in the pathless grove I chanc'd to stray 
 Where scarce imagination dares display 
 The gloomy scen'ry of the savage clime. 
 
 In 1814 Gary's translation appeared and received such 
 ■encomiums from all sorts of literary celebrities that nothing 
 we have to say in its praise could be pitched in a higher key. 
 Perhaps the best trubute to its excellence is the fact that it 
 ■still remains, in spite of keen competition, the standard 
 English translation. Anybody, however, who can read the 
 ■"Divine Comedy" in the original, will miss the nervous 
 strength and the inexpressible harmony of the " terza rima," 
 in the pompous Miltonic style and metre of Gary. Wright's 
 translation, which appeared in 1854, has many things to com- 
 
 i"A Translation of the 'Inferno,' of Dante Alighieri, in English Verse." 
 By Henry Boyd, A.M. Dublin, P. Byrne, 1785. 
 
 Lord Charlemont's translation of several passages of the " Divina Commedia" 
 Temains still in MS. in the library of the Royal Irish Academy. 
 
DANTE IN ENGLISH LITERATURE. 317 
 
 mend it ; but his notes and comments, so meagre and deceptive, 
 and so grossly offensive to Catholics, make his work on the 
 whole unpleasant and repulsive.^ 
 
 Nothing will better enable one to realise the change that 
 has come over England in mere matters of taste than a 
 comparison of Wright's " Translation of Dante," or his • 
 namesake's monogram on " St. Patrick's Purgatory," with the ■ 
 works on similar subjects in our own day by such writers as 
 Moore, Butler, and Vernon. We have still, no doubt, a 
 right to complain of the harsh and repellent tone which is 
 sometimes adopted in speaking of things which are so sacred 
 to us as Catholics ; but we acknowledge that there has been a 
 signal advance ; and for the dignity of literature we trust 
 that the time is not far distant when the opprobrious epithets 
 which are still flung so heedlessly about shall have utterly 
 disappeared. 
 
 Longfellow's translation, which appeared in 1 867, has in the ■ 
 opinion of many distinguished critics successfully disputed the 
 palm with Cary's. It reproduces admirably the sense of 
 Dante ; and as Spenser would express it, " follows the footing 
 of his feet' ; but the rhyme is wanting; and Dante without 
 his " terza rima " is no longer Dante. 
 
 Various attempts have been made to reproduce even the 
 tertian rhymes. It had been done with some success by at 
 least three translators,^ when the late Dean Plumptre tried his 
 hand.^ The tyranny of rhyme compelled the Dean to make 
 use of all sorts of archaic expressions and obsolete words, 
 which adds considerably to the obscurity of the original, and, 
 in so far, defeats the purpose of translation. But we confess 
 that, to our taste, his verses often have a pleasant and 
 
 ^" Dante Translated into English Verse." By Ichabod Charles Wright, • 
 
 Fellow of Magdalen College, Oxford. London, Bohn, 1854. 
 
 ^C. B. Caylay in 1851, Mrs. Ramsay in 1862, and Rev. C. Dayman in 1865. « 
 ^ " The Commedia and Canzoniere of Dante AUighieri." By H, E. » 
 
 Plumptre, Dean of Wells. Isbister, 1886. 
 
318 DANTE IN ENGLISH LITERATURE. 
 
 harmonious ring, and we have not hesitated to use them in 
 several of our quotations in this work. 
 
 If we add to those already mentioned the names of Mus- 
 grave/ Haselfoot and Shadwell,^ we shall have exhausted the 
 list of those who have given us verse translations, worthy of 
 note, of the whole or of a part of the "Divine Comedy". 
 
 Possibly a greater stimulus to the study of Dante was 
 given by some of the prose works on the subject that have 
 appeared during the century. Dr. Barlow's letters to the 
 "Athenaeum," which were afterwards published in various 
 pamphlets,^ had more to do, in our opinion, with the revival 
 of interest in Dante than any translation in poetry or prose. 
 Dr. Barlow's efforts were stimulated, no doubt, by the appre- 
 ciative essay of Dean Church — an essay to which all Dante 
 scholars of the present day, in English-speaking countries, 
 acknowledge their indebtedness.* The spirit in which the 
 Dean approached the study of the poet may be judged from 
 his opening words : — 
 
 " The ' Divine Comedy ' is one of the landmarks of history. 
 More than a magnificent poem, more than the beginning of a 
 language and the opening of a national literature, more than 
 the inspirer of art and the glory of a great people, it is one of 
 those rare and solemn monuments of the mind's power which 
 measure and test what it can reach to, which rise up inefface- 
 ably and for ever as time goes on, marking out its advance 
 by grander divisions than its centuries, and adopted as epochs 
 
 ^ " Dante's Divine Comedy," a version in the nine-line metre of Spenser. 
 The " Inferno " or Hell. Sonnenschein & Co. 
 
 2 " The ' Purgatory ' of Dante. An Experiment in Literal Verse Transla- 
 tion." By C. L. Shadvifell. With Introduction by Walter Pater. . Macmillan, 
 1893. Written in the Metre of Andrew Marvel. 
 
 ^ See " Critical, Historical and Philosophical Contributions to the Study of 
 the 'Divine Comedy,' " by H. C. Barlow, M.D. London, Williams & Norgate, 
 1865. 
 
 " " Dante and Other Essays," by R. W. Church, Dean of St. Paul's. This 
 essay was first published in the " Christian Remembrancer '' of 1850 and has 
 since gone through various reprints. 
 
DANTE IN ENGLISH LITERATURE. 319 
 
 by the consent of all who come after. It stands out with 
 the ' Iliad ' and Shakespeare's plays, with the writings of 
 Aristotle and Plato, with the ' Novum Organum ' and the 
 'Principia,' with Justinian's 'Code,' with the Parthenon and 
 St. Peter's. It is the first Christian poem ; and it opens 
 European literature, as the ' Iliad ' did that of Greece and 
 Rome. And, like the ' Iliad,' it has never become out of date; 
 it accompanies in undiminished freshness the literature which 
 it began." 
 
 Next in importance to Dean Church's essay, we should 
 place the essay of Russell Lowell, a succinct and appreciative 
 estimate of Dante and his works, which first appeared in the 
 year 1872. A key to the tone of this contribution may be 
 found in a few sentences. 
 
 " Milton's angels," writes the American essayist, " are not 
 to be compared with Dante's, at once real and supernatural : 
 and the Deity of Milton is a Calvinistic Zeus, while nothing 
 in all poetry approaches the imaginative grandeur of Dante's 
 vision of God at the conclusion of the ' Paradiso '. In all 
 literary history there is no such figure as Dante, no such 
 homogeneousness of life and works, such loyalty to ideas, such 
 sublime irrecognition of the unessential ; and there is no moral 
 more touching than that the contemporary recognition of such 
 a nature, so endowed and so faithful to its endowment, should 
 be summed up in the sentence of Florence : Igne comburatur 
 sic quod moriatur. . . . 
 
 "At the round table of King Arthur there was left always 
 one seat empty for him who should accomplish the adventure 
 of the Holy Grail. It was called the perilous seat because of 
 the dangers he must encounter who would win it. In the 
 company of the epic poets there was a place left for whoever 
 should embody the Christian idea of a triumphant life, out- 
 wardly all defeat, inwardly victorious, who should make us 
 partakers of that cup of sorrow in which all are communicants 
 
320 DANTE IN ENGLISH LITERATURE. 
 
 with Christ. He who should do this would indeed achieve 
 the perilous seat, for he must combine poesy with doctrine in 
 such cunning wise that the one lose not its beauty nor the 
 other its severity — and Dante has done it. As he takes 
 possession of it we seem to hear the cry he himself heard 
 when Virgil rejoined the company of great singers — ^ 
 
 ' AH honour to the loftiest of poets '." 
 
 In recent times the study of Dante has been still further 
 facilitated for English readers by the works of Dr. Moore of 
 Oxford, particularly by his excellent little volume on the 
 " Computations of Time in the ' Divine Comedy, ' " by the 
 " Dante Dictionary " of Mr. Paget Toynbee, by the " Readings '' 
 of the Hon. William Warren Vernon, by Mr. A. J. Butler's 
 translation of Scartazzini's " Companion to Dante," and a 
 whole series of similar works. ^ 
 
 Of the numerous translations of the " Divine Comedy " 
 into English prose we need only mention those of O'Donnell, 
 Butler and Norton. Father O'Donnell's translation appeared 
 in 1852, and holds much the same position in prose that Boyd's 
 translation does in verse. Butler's ^ translation which is now 
 complete disputes the palm with Mr. Norton's. It certainly 
 has many excellent features to recommend it ; but in spite of 
 all competition, we think that Mr. Norton's work is destined 
 to remain. Some translators have not gone beyond the 
 " Inferno," amongst them Dr. Carlyle and Sir Edward Sul- • 
 livan. Carlyle's translation has been always highly appreci- 
 ated. Sir Edward Sullivan's aimed at Biblical diction, and 
 met with indifferent success. 
 
 ^"Literary Essays." By James Russell Lowell. Vol. iv., pp. 162, 264. 
 London, Macmillan, i8go. 
 
 2 Miss Rossetti's " Shadow of Dante," and " The Life and Times of Dante "■ • 
 by M. de Vericour, Professor of Queen's College, Cork, represent the popular 
 Dante literature of the last generation. 
 
 'London, Macmillan. 
 
DANTE IN ENGLISH LITERATURE. 321 
 
 All these commentaries and translations are evidence of 
 the interest, deep and wide, that Dante has reawakened in 
 England. It has cast its spell over all classes, and those who 
 have been the first to acknowledge its influence hold the very 
 highest place in the literature of the Victorian age. 
 
 Shelley paid to Dante the highest honour that one poet 
 could pay to another by endeavouring to imitate the " Vita 
 Nuova'' in his " Epipsychidion ". 
 
 Tennyson has laid more than one tribute at the feet of 
 the master from whom he learned the secret of perfection in 
 verse. In the "Palace of Art" he places him alongside 
 Milton and Shakespeare. 
 
 For there was Milton like a seraph strong, 
 
 Beside him Shakespeare bland and mild. 
 And there the world-worn Dante grasp'd his song, 
 
 And somewhat grimly smiled. 
 
 In 1865, at the request of the Florentines, the author of 
 " In Memoriam " sent the following lines to the organisers of 
 the sixth centenary of Dante's birth : — 
 
 King that hast reign'd six hundred years, and grown 
 
 In power, and ever growest, since thine own 
 
 Fair Florence honouring thy nativity. 
 
 Thy Florence now the crown of Italy, 
 
 Hath sought the tribute of a verse from me, 
 
 I, wearing but the garland of a day, 
 
 Cast at thy feet one flower that fades away. 
 
 Numberless are the passages in the laureate's works which 
 testify to the influence of Dante. We take one at random. 
 It is a stanza from the monodrama of " Maud," in which no 
 one can be mistaken : — 
 
 I am sick of the hall and hill, I am sick of the moor and main. 
 
 Why should I stay ? Can a sweeter chance ever come to me here ? 
 O having the nerves of motion as well as the nerves of pain, 
 
 Were I not wise if I fled from the place and the pit and the fear ? 
 
 Thomas Carlyle,^ among prose writers, is not less ap- 
 preciative than Tennyson among the poets. 
 
 • ' " Lectures on Heroes. The Hero as Poet." 
 21 
 
322 DANTE IN ENGLISH LITERATURE. 
 
 " A true inward symmetry," he writes, " what one calls an 
 architectural harmony, reigns throughout the ' Divine Comedy,' 
 proportionates it all. The three kingdoms, Inferno, Purgatorio, 
 Paradiso, look out on one another like compartments of a 
 great edifice ; a great supernatural world-cathedral, piled up 
 there — stern, solemn, awful. Dante's world of souls ! It is 
 at bottom the sincerest of all poems. It came out of the 
 author's heart of hearts ; and it goes deep and through long 
 generations into ours. No work known to me is so elaborated 
 as this of Dante's. Every compartment of it is worked out 
 with intense earnestness into truth, into clear visuality. Each 
 answers to the other. Each fits into its place like a marble 
 stone accurately hewn and polished. It is the soul of Dante, 
 and in this the soul of the Middle Ages, rendered ever 
 rhythmically visible there. No light task ; a right intense 
 one ; but a task which is done. 
 
 " What a paltry notion is that of his ' Divine 
 Comedy's ' being a poor, splenetic, impotent, terrestrial 
 libel ; putting those into hell whom he could not be 
 avenged of on earth ! I suppose if ever pity tender as 
 a mother's was in the heart of man it was in Dante's. But 
 a man who does not know rigour cannot pity either. His 
 very pity will be cowardly, egoistic sentimentality, or little 
 better. 
 
 " Morally great, above all, we must call him. His scorn, 
 his grief, are as transcendant as his love. 'A Dio spiacenti 
 ed a' nemici sui.' ' Hateful to God and to the enemies of 
 God : ' lofty scorn, unappeaseable, silent reprobation and 
 aversion. ' Non ragionam di lor.' ' We will not speak of 
 them, but look and pass.' Or think of this : ' They have not 
 the hope to die'. 'Non hanno speranza di morte.' One 
 day it had risen sternly benign on the scathed heart of Dante 
 that he, wretched, never-resting, worn as he was, would full 
 surely die ; that ' destiny itself could not doom him not to 
 
DANTE IN ENGLISH LITERATURE. 323 
 
 die '. Such words are in this man. For rigour, earnestness 
 and depth he is not to be paralleled in the modern world. To 
 seek his parallel we must go into the Hebrew Bible and live 
 with the antique prophets there. 
 
 " I do not agree with much modern criticism in greatly 
 preferring the ' Inferno ' to the two other parts of the ' Divina 
 Commedia'. Such preference belongs, I imagine, to our 
 general Byronism of taste. The ' Purgatorio ' and ' Para- 
 dise, ' especially the former, one would almost say, is more 
 excellent than it. It is a noble thing that ' Purgatorio '. 
 ' Mountain of Purification,' an emblem of the noblest con- 
 ception of that age. If sin is so fatal and hell is and must be 
 so rigorous and awful, yet in repentance too is man purified. 
 Repentance is the grand Christian act. It is beautiful how 
 Dante works it out. The tremolar della marina, that trembling 
 of the ocean waves under the first pure gleam of morning, 
 dawning afar on the wandering two, is as the type of an 
 altered mood. Hope has now dawned, never-dying hope, if 
 in company still with heavy sorrow. The obscure sojourn of 
 demons and reprobates is under foot. A soft breathing of 
 penitence mounts higher and higher to the throne of mercy 
 itself." 
 
 Ruskin, who has tested Dante on all sorts of merit in the 
 "Stones of Venice" and "Modern Painters," has summed 
 up his judgment in asserting that : — 
 
 " The central man of all the world, as representing in 
 perfect balance the imaginative, moral and intellectual facul- 
 ties, all at their highest, is Dante " ?- 
 
 Macaulay ^ looks upon him as a model for orators. 
 
 "The style of Dante is," he writes, "if not his highest, his 
 most peculiar excellence. I know nothing with which it can 
 
 ^" Stones of Venice," vol. iii., p. 156. 
 
 ^ See " Irish Ecclesiastical Record," March, 1868, p. 316. 
 
•I 
 
 324 DANTE IN ENGLISH LITERATURE. 
 
 be compared. The noblest models of Greek composition 
 must yield to it. His words are the fewest and the best which 
 it is possible to use. The first expression in which he clothes 
 his thoughts is always so energetic and comprehensive, that 
 amplification would only injure the effect. There is probably 
 no writer in any language who has presented so rnany strong 
 pictures to the mind. Yet there is probably no writer equally 
 concise. This perfection of style is the principal merit of the 
 ' Paradiso,' which, as I have already remarked, is by no means 
 equal in other respects to the two preceding parts of the 
 poem. The force and felicity of the diction, however, irre- 
 sistibly attract the reader through the theological lectures and 
 the sketches of ecclesiastical biography with which this division 
 of the work too much abounds. Cf. especially the third canto 
 of the ' Inferno ' and the sixth of \ Purgatorio ' as passages 
 incomparable in their kind. The merit of the latter is, 
 perhaps, rather oratorical than poetical ; nor can I recollect 
 anything in the great Athenian speeches which equals it in 
 force of invective and bitterness of sarcasm. I have heard the 
 most eloquent statesmen of the age remark that, next to 
 Demosthenes, Dante is the writer who ought to be most 
 attentively studied by every man who desires to attain ora- 
 torical eminence." 
 
 In the works of Cardinal Newman we find some allusions 
 to Dante ; but, unlike Manning, Newman was not an Italian 
 scholar, and had never read the " Divina Commedia " in the 
 original. He had tried, we are informed,^ but only with 
 partial success, to read Gary's translation. Traces of this 
 influence may be noticed, perhaps, in the " Dream of Geron- 
 tius "; but there is probably something in the suggestion that 
 Newman was too like Dante to be in any sense a copy of 
 him. 
 
 1 "The Commedia and Canzoniere of Dante," by Dean Plumptre, vol. ii., 
 P- 453- 
 
DANTE IN ENGLISH LITERATURE. 325 
 
 Mr. Gladstone, in a letter addressed to Signor Giuliani, 
 author of the work " Dante Spiegato Con Dante," ex- 
 pressed his appreciation of the great poet in the following 
 words : — 
 
 " The reading of Dante is not merely a pleasure, a tour de 
 force, or a lesson : it is a vigorous discipline for the heart, the 
 intellect, the whole man. In the school of Dante I have 
 learned a great part of that mental provision (however in- 
 significant it may be), which has served me to make the 
 journey of life up to the term of nearly seventy-three years. 
 And I should like to extend your excellent phrase, and to 
 say that he who labours for Dante, labours to serve Italy, 
 Christianity, the world." < 
 
 Cardinal Manning; in a letter congratulating Father H. S. 
 Bowden on his translation of Hettinger's work on the " Divine 
 Comedy " says : — • 
 
 " There are three books which always seem to me to form 
 a triad of Dogma of Poetry and of Devotion — the ' Summa ' of 
 St. Thomas, the ' Divina Commedia,' and the ' Paradisus 
 Animae '. All three contain the same outline of faith. St. 
 Thomas traces it on the intellect, Dante upon the imagination, 
 and the ' Paradisus Animae ' upon the heart. The poem unites 
 the book of Dogma and the book of Devotion, and is in itself 
 both Dogma and Devotion clothed in conceptions of intensity 
 and of beauty which have never been surpassed or equalled. 
 No uninspired hand has written thoughts so high, in words so 
 burning and so resplendent, as the last stanzas of the ' Divina 
 Commedia '. 
 
 " It was said of St. Thomas — ' Post Summam Thomae 
 nihil restat nisi lumen gloriae '. It may be said of Dante 
 ' Post Dantis Paradisum nihil restat nisi visio Dei '." 
 
 In this very letter the Cardinal takes occasion to remark 
 how completely the interpretation of Dante has been left, iri 
 these countries, to non-catholic writers. Already there is, 
 however, a great improvement in this respect. The excellent 
 
326 DANTE IN ENGLISH LITERATURE. 
 
 work of Mr. Edmund G. Gardner, on " Dante's Ten Heavens," 
 which appeared since the Cardinal wrote, is admittedly the 
 ablest exposition of the " Paradiso " which we now possess in 
 English.! 
 
 ' " Dante's Ten Heavens. A Study of the ' Paradiso '." By Edmund G. 
 Gardner, M.A., Gonville and Caius College, Cambridge. London, Constable, 
 1898. 
 
327 
 
 ORIGIN OF THE "DIVINE COMEDY". 
 
 Whatever may be said of the originality of the " Divine 
 Comedy," no one can assert that the idea of a journey through 
 the other world was in all respects original. That Dante con- 
 ceived his plan on a grander scale than any of the visionaries 
 who preceded him, and worked it out with the skill of genius, 
 is no reason why the imaginative efforts of the obscure mystics 
 and poets from whom he borrowed its outline should be denied 
 acknowledgment. Nor can such acknowledgment detract in 
 any way from the success or the perfection of Dante's achieve- 
 ment. It is only a master hand that could have moulded and 
 fashioned the crude materials at his disposal as Dante did. 
 Will any one say that Shakespeare's dramas are not all his 
 own, and are not marked in the highest degree with the stamp 
 of genius and of originality because they were suggested by 
 the tales of Holinshed, or of Boccaccio, or of Saxo-Grammati- 
 cus? Will any one deny the originality of "Faust" or of 
 " Gotz of Berlichingen " because they are founded on mediaeval 
 folk-lore and knight-errantry ? What has Tennyson done in 
 the " Idylls of the King " but reproduce in imperishable 
 English, the legends and tales which the Celts of olden 
 times invented and handed down ? Poetry has not changed 
 its nature ; neither have poets. Never were the votaries of 
 the muse more eager than they are at the present day to ex- 
 plore the records and chronicles of past ages in search of 
 narratives and descriptions that may serve to beguile the road 
 to Olympus. Nor do they confine their restless pursuit to old 
 and forgotten tomes. The latest account of savage tribes ; 
 
328 ORIGIN OF THE "DIVINE COMEDY". 
 
 sensational descriptions of heathen rites ; imaginative fancies ; 
 unconventional metaphors ; all such things may have in them 
 for the aspirants to poetic fame the germ of something novel 
 and impressive. Phenomena that are out of the common 
 please them best. They like to evoke new forms of beauty, 
 and if they can develop them from things that appear to the 
 common gaze unlovely and even horrible they regard their 
 triumph as all the more complete. 
 
 The world of shades always had and always will have a 
 commanding interest for the mortals who are journeying 
 towards it. So it was in the days of Goethe and of Shake- 
 speare. So it was with Homer and with Virgil. And so it 
 was, not less but more, with the author of the "Divine 
 Comedy ". 
 
 We can well imagine, then, when the work was undertaken 
 to which " heaven and earth were to lend a hand," how eagerly 
 Dante proceeded to amass the poetic materials which were 
 ultimately to find a place in his tertian rhymes. We know 
 how closely he studied the poetry of Provence. We know 
 how well acquainted he was with all the Italian rhymers who 
 had gone before him. We know the close relations that 
 existed between him and Brunetto Latini. And even though 
 he does not quote or mention any of the visions from which 
 he borrowed details and suggestions, it is impossible to believe 
 that he dispensed with them altogether, and that the " Divine 
 Comedy," as we possess it, is indebted to no other source of 
 inspiration than the fertile brain and fervid imagination of 
 Dante Allighieri. 
 
 We cannot, of course, point to any particular legends or 
 visions and say with certainty that Dante turned them to 
 account. We are here, as the French would say, in the region 
 of probability and conjecture. The poet himself gives us no 
 clue to a solution. Ars est celare artem ; and nobody knew 
 better than Dante what to reveal and what to suppress in the 
 interest of his art. All we can say is that in the literature of 
 
ORIGIN OF THE "DIVINE COMEDY". 329 
 
 the Middle Ages there existed certain legendary poems and 
 descriptions of mystic visions with which a scholar of Dante's 
 standing and a poet in search of imaginative pictures of the 
 other world was pretty sure to be acquainted. There are, 
 moreover, so many passages and views and conceptions in the 
 " Divine Comedy" which look as if they were borrowed from 
 one or other of these sources that it is impossible to resist the 
 conclusion that Dante had access to some of them if not to 
 all. 
 
 "The ' Divina Commedia ' is of Dante's writing," says 
 Carlyle,! " yet in truth it belongs to the ten christian 
 centuries : only the finishing of it is Dante's. So always ! 
 The craftsman there, the smith with that metal of his, with 
 these tools, with these cunning methods — how little of all he 
 does is his work ! All past inventive men work there with 
 him, as indeed with all of us, in all things. Dante is the 
 spokesman of the Middle Ages. The thought they lived by 
 stands here in everlasting music. These sublime ideas of his, 
 terrible and beautiful, are the fruit of the christian meditation 
 of all the good men who had gone before him." 
 
 It may be taken for granted at least that Dante eagerly 
 scanned every manuscript within his reach, whether in poetry 
 or in prose, that contained fanciful descriptions of another 
 world. Even the apocryphal books of the Jews which enlarge 
 so freely on the visions of Job, of Daniel, and of Ezekiel, 
 would seem to have been drawn upon for his " Comedy ".^ 
 He had surely heard of Homer's description of the descent 
 of Ulysses to Orcus and of the hero's account of the great 
 personages he had seen there — of Achilles and Patroclus, 
 Antilochus and Ajax, Antiope and Epicaste, Chloris and 
 Leda, Iphimedia and Proserpine. 
 
 Although we trace in the " Divine Comedy " direct 
 
 • 1" Heroes and Hero-Worship. The Hero as Poet." 
 ^ See " I precursor: di Dante ". D'Ancona. 
 
330 ORIGIN OF THE "DIVINE COMEDY". 
 
 references to the " Timaeus " alone amongst the works of 
 Plato, we can clearly trace the indirect influence of the 
 " Gorgias," where the infernal judges are seen at work ; of 
 the " Phaedo," where the souls are sent down to Tartarus ; 
 of the " Republic," where the story is related of " Er " the 
 Pamphylian, who, as he was lying on his funeral pile, returned 
 to life on the twelfth day and related what he had seen of 
 the nether world.^ Dante had probably heard of, if he had not 
 read, the "Demon of Socrates," in which Plutarch describes 
 the vision of Timarchus in the cave of Trophonius ; and there 
 is no reason why he may not have likewise heard that Aristo- 
 phanes, in his comedy of the " Frogs," sends Bacchus, the 
 patron of the stage, down to the lower regions to bring back 
 Euripides. In the Latin classics he had read of all sorts of 
 pilgrimages to Hades and Erebus. Virgil had sent down 
 .^neas ; Apuleius the disconsolate Psyche ; Jerome the Peri- 
 patetic the mysterious Pythagoras. Lucan, Statius, Valerius 
 Flaccus, Silvius Italicus, and Claudian, had all conducted one 
 or other of their heroes to the mysterious regions of the future 
 life. Cicero had described in " Scipio's Dream " those very 
 spheres of heaven through which Dante has led us ; and when 
 the Florentine poet describes himself as looking down from 
 the constellation of the " Twins " and seeing the earth below, 
 that makes us all so proud, no larger than a " little threshing 
 floor," he almost reproduces the very words that are attributed 
 to the Roman general. 
 
 But it is not so much to classic antiquity that writers 
 on Dante have traced the direct inspiration of the " Divine 
 Comedy" as to the poetic effusions and legends of the age 
 that immediately preceded his own. Amongst the vast 
 number of such productions which came within Dante's reach 
 there are some which stand out prominently as being the most 
 remarkable of the time. They are all discussed by Fontanini,^ 
 
 1 See " The Republic of Plato "- Translated by Jowett, p. 330. 
 ^ " Eloquenza Italiana," i, ii., c. 13. 
 
/ 
 
 ORIGIN OF THE "DIVINE COMEDY". 331 
 
 Denina,^ Cancellieri,^ Ginguene,^ Ozanam/ Labitte/ Wright,® 
 Ferrario/ Villari,* and D'Ancona.^ When all the minor and 
 subsidiary works from which Dante is supposed to have 
 borrowed are cleared away, we find in most favour the 
 "Vision of St. Fursseus". Walafried Strabo's "Vision of 
 Wettin"; the "Vision of Alberic of Monte Cassino"; the 
 " Vision of Walkelin of Lisieux " ; the " Vision de St. Paul " ; 
 the " Vision of Owain Miles " in " St. Patrick's Purgatory" ; the 
 " Vision of Tundale " of Cashel ; the " Tesoretto " of Brunetto 
 Latini ; the " Voyage of St. Brendan " ; the " Vision of Charles 
 the Fat " ; the " Voyage de I'Enfer " of Raoul de Houdan ; 
 " The Tournament of Antichrist " of Hugo de Berti ; " LTmage 
 du Monde " of Gautier de Metz. The earliest of these visions, 
 and the one to which most of the others may be traced, is the 
 " Vision of St. FursEus ". 
 
 " Tracing the course of thought upwards through the visions 
 of Alberic and Owain Miles, and the other compositions of a 
 like nature, we have no difficulty," writes Sir Francis Palgrave,*** 
 " in deducing the poetic genealogy of the ' Inferno,' and the 
 ' Purgatorio ' to the Milesian Fursaeus." ^^ 
 
 It is narrated of the saint that his soul departed for a time 
 from his body and was wrapt away into the heavens, where 
 the angels of darkness contended for its possession with the 
 
 1 " Vicende delle Lettere," i ii., t. lo. 
 
 ^ " Osservazioni Intorno alia Questione sopra la Originalita del Poema di 
 Dante." Di F. Cancellieri, Rome, 1814. 
 
 '" Histoire Litteraire d'ltalie," vol. i., p. 488. 
 '' ^ " Des Sources Poetiques de la Divine Comedie," passim. 
 
 * !* " De la Divine Comedie avant Dante." " Revue des Deux Mondes," 1842. 
 
 • « " St. Patrick's Purgatory." 
 
 ' " History of Chivalry and Romance." 
 
 '"Antiche Leggende e Tradizioni che Illustrano La Divina Commedia." 
 Di P. Villari, Pisa, 1865. 
 
 ' " I Predecessori di Dante." 
 
 ^^ " History of Normandy and England, vol. i., p. 725. 
 
 " "Kalendar of Scottish Saints," p. 352. " Essays " by Mrs. Sarah Atkinson, 
 reprinted &om the " Irish Monthly " of 1884. 
 
332 ORIGIN OF THE "DIVINE COMEDY". 
 
 angels of light. ^ The representatives of falsehood, avarice, 
 discord and impiety headed their legions against the host of 
 heaven and carried their dispute to the very foot of the throne 
 of God. There with arguments and with syllogisms they 
 sought to establish their claim to the victory. Six times they 
 had returned to the contest, and now they still hoped to gain 
 their prize. At last judgment was given against them. Then 
 the angels and the elect burst forth into a canticle, singing of 
 the shortness of time and the lightness of labour when com- 
 pared with the eternity of glory gained by the faithful soul. 
 To this harmony the angels of the inner heaven responded in 
 four alternate choirs singing — " Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God 
 of Hosts ". Three angels were deputed to comfort the saini 
 and lead back his soul to the body, that he might reveal to 
 the world what he had seen. 
 
 It is possible that Dante may have read this " Vision 
 of Fursaeus ". It is most probable that it had reached 
 the monasteries of Italy, and Bobbio in particular. Dante, 
 moreover, seems to have been acquainted with the works 
 of Bede, and the Venerable Bede had written a full account 
 of the life and visions of Fursaeus. In any case we must 
 recognise here the fountain head from which a great system of 
 similar legends took their origin. In this way the author of 
 the " Divine Comedy" is indebted indirectly, if not directly, to 
 the Celtic saint. We should not, however, seek to exaggerate 
 the indebtedness or to multiply the similarities. The chief 
 resemblance, to our mind, is to be found in the descriptions 
 of the angels. We have seen how Dante describes them in 
 " Purgatorio ". 
 
 In the " Vision of Fursaeus " they are equally strong, 
 
 1 AA. SS. Boll. Jan. II. See also "Essays" by Mrs. S. Atkinson, pp. 245, 
 250. " Celtic Sources of Divine Comedy," by Mrs. Marion Mulhall, " Dublin 
 Review," October, i3o6. " Early Christian Art" in " Reliquary and Illustrated 
 Archaeologist," April, i8gg. Canon O'Hanlon's " Lives of Irish Saints," vol. i., 
 pp. 224, 230. 
 
ORIGIN OF THE " DIVINE COMEDY ". 33S 
 
 radiant and holy. " The marvellous splendour of the angels," 
 wrote Mrs. Atkinson,^ " the harmonious rustling of their 
 wings, the melody of their songs, and the divine beauty of 
 their aspect penetrated his soul with inexpressible delight. 
 For, as they moved along they sang, the first angel intoning 
 the opening phrase, the others joining in and continuing the 
 chant." 
 
 We think that those who claim for Dante a knowledge of 
 our Celtic legends have much more to justify them in the case 
 of the " Voyage of St. Brendan " than in that of the " Vision 
 of Fursaeus ". This legend, as D'Ancona reminds us,^ was 
 diffused at an early date over all parts of Europe. There are 
 still several MSS. of it dating from the eleventh century ' in the 
 National Library of Paris, and one dating even from the ninth 
 century in the Vatican Library at Rome. It tells us of the 
 expedition made by the Saint, accompanied by twenty of his 
 monks, in search of the land of promise — the " insula deliciosa " 
 — which corresponds to the " dilettoso monte " of the " Divine 
 Comedy". He sets sail (whether from the coast of Brittany, 
 in France, or the coast of Kerry, in Ireland, we know not), 
 towards the East, and passes from island to island, till he 
 comes to that terrestrial paradise which he had gone to seek. 
 In one island he sees the birds assemble at the liturgical hours 
 and hears them sing in marvellous harmony the praises of 
 God.^ In another the sheep have a republic in which they 
 carry out their government under peaceful laws. In the silent 
 island the lamps light of their own accord for the chanting of 
 the office. He celebrates Easter on the back of a complacent 
 sea-mqnster. He sees the powers of hell let loose and gets a 
 glimpse of the glories of heaven. 
 
 '" St. Fursey's Life and Visions," in " Irish Monthly," 1884. 
 ' I Predecessori di Dante," pp. 48, 49. 
 ^" Acta Sancti Brendani." By Cardinal Moran, p. 85. 
 * " Histoire de la Langue et de La Litterature Fran9aise." By L. Petit de 
 JuUeville, torn, i., p. 29. 
 
334 ORIGIN OF THE "DIVINE COMEDY". 
 
 He obtains a moment's respite for Judas Iscariot, who is 
 cast out upon a lonely rock on certain Sundays of the year, 
 from the Abyss in which he spends the rest of the week, 
 crucified with Herod and Pilate.^ 
 
 He makes a short sojourn on the "insula deliciarum," 
 the earthly paradise, and then returns to his monastic and 
 missionary labours. 
 
 " What a charming dream," writes a famous French acade- 
 mician, " is this idea of a ' land of promise,' a land of perpetual 
 day, where all the herbs bear flowers and all the trees bear 
 fruit. A few privileged men alone have reached it. On their 
 return its perfume hangs around their garments for forty days. 
 In the midst of these dreams we find an astonishingly real and 
 picturesque description of the polar seas : the transparency of 
 the water ; the floating of the icebergs ; the glaciers melting in 
 the sun ; the volcanic eruptions of Iceland ; the spouting of the 
 whales ; the majestic outline of the fiords of Norway ; the 
 sudden fogs ; the stillness of the sea ; the islands carpeted with 
 green that slope down to the water's edge. This fantastic 
 scenery, created entirely for another race ; this strange topogra- 
 phy, dazzling with fiction and convincing with reality, make, 
 of the poem of St. Brendan, one of the most astonishing 
 creations of the human mind, and, perhaps, the most complete 
 expression we possess of the Celtic ideal. Everything in it is 
 pure, innocent and beautiful. A milder and more benevolent 
 glance was never cast out upon the world." ^ 
 
 Now, the parallelisms of detail between the " Voyage of St. 
 Brendan " and the " Divine Comedy '' are undoubtedly very 
 numerous. The most striking is probably the impression 
 
 ^ Jesura qui denariis : vendi di terrenis 
 Agno libans oscula : gravida venenis. 
 Cujus ferens loculos : darem ut egenis. 
 Meis magis institi : lucris immo penis. 
 
 2 Renan, " Essais de Critique et d'Histoire,'' p. 445. 
 
ORIGIN OF THE "DIVINE COMEDY". 335 
 
 recorded by both when they had reached the " Paradise " 
 they had gone to seek. Dante says : — 
 
 Nel ciel che piii della sua luce prende 
 
 Fu' io, e vidi cose che ridire 
 
 Ne sa, ne pud qual di lassu discende. 
 Perchfe appiessando se al suo disire, 
 
 Nostro intelletto si profonda tanto, 
 
 Che retro la memoria non puo ire.' 
 
 — " Par.," canto i. 
 
 St. Brendan says, or is made to say : — 
 
 Eden digne pingere : vanum est conari 
 Stillas paucas extraho : de tam magno mari 
 Que quot quanta qualia : constat hie servari 
 Nemo scit viventium : vel hoc sciunt rari. 
 
 The reader of the " Divine Comedy " is astonished at the 
 knowledge displayed by Dante of gems and precious stones, 
 and at the apt and precise illustrations with which they 
 frequently supply him. Where could a greater profusion of 
 such illustrations be found than in St. Brendan's verses : — 
 
 Jaspis hie fantasmatum : viret in terrorem 
 Ametistus roseum : innovat ruborem. 
 Hie jacintus duplicem : pandit coeli morem 
 Ciropressi variat : auri dos virorem. 
 
 Hie albestos ignibus : non premendis pates 
 Rubet hie corallius : terrens tempestates 
 Hie saphiri gloria : sacer hie gagates 
 Pangrus vultu multiplex : et magus achates. 
 
 Again Dante's idea of a caitiff band of angels who were 
 neither for God nor for Lucifer, but for themselves, is plainly 
 
 '■ Within that heaven which most his light receives 
 Was I, and things beheld which to repeat 
 Nor knows, nor can, who from above descends ; 
 Because in drawing near to its desire 
 Our intellect ingulphs itself so far, 
 That after it the memory cannot go. 
 
 — Longfellow's Translation. 
 
336 ORIGIN OF THE "DIVINE COMEDY". 
 
 borrowed from St. Brendan's account of the " Paradise of the 
 Birds ".1 Our Irish saint, in his mild way, had stigmatised 
 the "policy of non-intervention," as Mgr. Poletto calls it, and 
 Dante, under the sway, as he was, of the most ardent political 
 passion, when he wrote the first cantos of the " Inferno," 
 took hold of the conception and reproduced it in immortal 
 words. 
 
 Such similarities have not escaped Italian and French 
 commentators like Villari, Ozanam, Labitte, d'Ancona and 
 Corazzini. Professor d'Ancona^ tells us that, in the Middle 
 Ages, the island of St. Brendan, on the sole authority of this 
 legend, was marked on the maps and mentioned in treatises on 
 geography. When the peace of Evora was concluded, the un- 
 known island was transferred from the Crown of Portugal, to 
 which it was supposed to belong, to the King of Castile, who was 
 never able to find it. In 1721 ships were sent out from Spain 
 to look for it. This will not surprise those who remember that 
 when, in our own day, Etienne Cabet wrote the account of his 
 imaginary voyage to Icaria — the home of man in the state of 
 nature — some foolish people took him at his word, and set out 
 to look for the unknown country across the seas. Nothing 
 changes in this world except the appearance of things. 
 Man remains always the same ; in past ages he thought in 
 his pride to take possession, before his time, of this heavenly 
 paradise ; he now runs blindly after the chimaera of a perfect 
 society, which is to bring paradise to the door of every mortal. 
 Neverfading illusions, which, like the breath of vanity, 
 "change their names merely because they change sides". 
 
 The legend of " St. Patrick's Purgatory," which was first 
 
 ^ " Nos sumus de magna ilia ruina antiqui hostis, sed non peccando aut 
 consentiendo sumus lapsi : sed ubi sumus creati, per lapsum istius cum suis 
 satellitibus contigit nostra ruina. Deus autem Omnipotens, qui Justus est et 
 verax, suo judicio misit nos in istum locum." — " Acta S. Brendani," by Cardinal 
 Moran, p. 79. 
 
 ^ " I Predecessori di Dante," pp. 48-49. 
 
ORIGIN OF THE "DIVINE COMEDY". 337 
 
 composed by Henry of Saltry, about the year 1150, was 
 pretty widely circulated throughout Europe in the thirteenth 
 and fourteenth centuries. It was incorporated in the works 
 of Vincent of Beauvais, of Mathew Paris and of Dionysius 
 the Carthusian.^ It was reproduced in French verse by Marie 
 de France,^ and by several unknown " Trouveres ".^ Csesarius 
 of Heisterbach recommended it to those who had any mis- 
 givings as to the existence of purgatory. Jacobus de Voragine, 
 Bishop of Genoa, a contemporary of Dante, reproduced it in 
 his famous " Legenda Aurea ". Another countryman and 
 contemporary of Dante, Andrea of Florence, reproduced it in 
 the romance of " Guerino il Meschino," substituting one of 
 the knights of Charlemagne for the famous Owain Miles, who 
 was a knight of King Stephen. 
 
 It is clear from all this that the legend of the knight Owain 
 had made the round of Europe and was well known in Dante's 
 time. It is possible, indeed, as Ginguen^ says,* that the 
 Italian version of it in "Guerino II Meschino" may have 
 been the result rather than the cause of the " Divine Comedy," 
 for in it we find considerable variations on the earlier versions.^ 
 Whilst in the original description of Hell by Henry of Saltry 
 there is question only of four penal fields (de quatuor campis 
 poenalibus), in " Guerino il Meschino " there are seven con- 
 centric circles corresponding to the seven deadly sins. This 
 would be quite conclusive as to Dante's indebtedness to 
 " Guerino " if there were any proof that the romance of 
 Andrea of Florence was anterior to the "Divine Comedy". 
 But there is no such proof. Bottari ^ thinks on the contrary 
 
 1 " Liber Utilissiraus de Quatuor Hominis Novissimis." 
 2 " Poesies de Marie de France." Par B. de Roquefort. Paris, 1820. 
 ^ " Essais Historiques sur les Trouveres." Par M. I'Abbe de La Rue. Caen, 
 1834, iii. 425. 
 
 * " Histoire Litteraire d'ltalie," torn, ii., pp. 24-25. 
 
 ^ " Pelli Memorie per la Vita di Dante Allighieri," xvii. 
 
 * " Simbole Goriane," torn. vii. 
 
 22 
 
338 ORIGIN OF THE "DIVINE COMEDY". 
 
 that the romance of" Guerino " is of French origin, and should 
 probably be traced to the romances referred to by Marie de 
 France as the source of her own poem, and that it was Andrea 
 who borrowed the idea of the circles from Dante, not Dante 
 from Andrea. 
 
 Nevertheless, if we set aside altogether the romance of 
 " Guerino il Meschino," there are still many sources from 
 which Dante may have gained a knowledge of the Irish legend ; 
 and we think that any one who carefully reads the effusion of 
 Henry of Saltry will conclude that Dante had read it also. 
 In it there is a vision of Hell, Purgatory and Heaven. The 
 four " penal fields " may not be disposed in circles, but they 
 might readily have suggested the circles. Let any one read 
 the description of the fourth " penal field," and Dante's descrip- 
 tion of the foss of the barrators in " Malebolge," and say if one 
 is not suggestive of the other. The high bridge, the river of 
 ice, the fiery serpents, the vultures, the iron stakes, the burning 
 wind, the boiling metals, are all in the knight's vision of 
 Hell as well as in Dante's. Compare the description in the 
 " Purgatorio," in which Sordello points out the royal shades 
 in the flowery dell, or the description of the heavenly paradise 
 where Matilda went singing and gathering flowers, with the 
 description of the scene that met the view of Owain when he 
 emerged from the company of the damned : — 
 
 Hyt was greene and fuUe of floures 
 Of many dyverse coloures 
 Hyt was grene on every side 
 As meadows are in somer's tyde.* 
 
 It is some consolation to clerics that they are not so roughly 
 treated in this particular legend as they are in the "Divine 
 Comedy ''. It is chiefly in heaven that they are to be seen ; 
 for as the English interpreter of the legend puts it : — 
 
 ^ " Erat autem tota patria quasi prata amoena atque virentia diversis floribus 
 fructibusque herbarum et arborum multiformium decorata, quorum, ait, odore 
 sine iine vixisset, si ibidem ei vivere licuisset." — Henry of Saltry. 
 
ORIGIN OF THE "DIVINE COMEDY". 339 
 
 As he stode and was so fayne, 
 
 Hym thowght ther come hym agayne 
 
 A twyde fayr processioun 
 
 Of all manere menne of religyoun. 
 
 Fayre vestymentes they hadde on, 
 
 So ryche syg he never none, 
 
 Myche joye hym thowgte to se 
 
 Bysshops yn here dygnitie. 
 
 He syg ther monkes and chanones 
 
 And freres with newe shavene crownes 
 
 Ermytes he sawe ther amonge, 
 
 And nonnes with fulle merry songe, 
 
 Persones, prestes and vicaryes. 
 
 They mayde fulle merry melodyes. 
 
 He syg ther kings and emperoures. 
 
 And dukes that hadde casteles and toures 
 
 Erles and barones fele, 
 
 That sometime had the world's wele.^ 
 
 All the Irish legends, however, are not quite so favourable ; 
 for in the " Vision of Tundale," which, at least in its Latin 
 form, is a few years older than the legend of Owain Miles,^ 
 there is a terrible, winged monster, with long neck and iron 
 beak, sitting in a frozen lake. He devours innumerable 
 sinners, most of whom were canons, monks and nuns, who 
 lived in luxury, and who, when cast away by the monster, 
 were set upon by numerous serpents and cruelly tormented in 
 the lake. 
 
 Tundale was a native of Cashel and a nobleman by birth ; 
 but he had the reputation of being cruel to the poor and a 
 scoffer at sacred things. At the table of a friend he was one 
 day struck down by an invisible hand, and appeared to be 
 dead from Wednesday to Saturday. He then revived and 
 related what he had seen during the time he had been in the 
 trance. His vision, like that of Owain, soon made its way to 
 the Continent, and was incorporated by Vincent of Beauvais 
 in his " Speculum Historiale ".^ 
 
 • ' See Wright, " St. Patrick's Purgatory " 
 
 ^The years are : Tundale, 1149; Owain, 1153. 
 
 ^ Lib. xxvi. There is an early MS. of it in the British Museum beginning ; 
 " Incipit libellus de Raptu Anime Tundali et ejus Visione ". 
 
340 ORIGIN OF THE "DIVINE COMEDY". 
 
 It had already been translated into Latin by a certain 
 Marco, at the request of an Abbess Gertrude, in 1149; and 
 the fact that early versions of it are to be found all over the 
 continent prove that it must have rapidly become popular. 
 According to Mrs. Mulhall,^ Mussafia and Corazzini, em- 
 phatically assign the origin of Dante's " Commedia " to this 
 legend rather than to the " Vision of St. Fursseus ". Mussafia 
 seems to have been of opinion that Tundale never existed, 
 and that Marco was the real author of the vision. 
 
 " Some of the parallel passages are very striking," writes 
 Mrs. Mulhall, " and these made such an impression on Mussafia 
 that before his death he expressed the wish that some Italian 
 writer would investigate the subject and vindicate the right of 
 the Irish monk, Marco, or of his hero, Tundale, as inspirer of 
 Dante and progenitor of the greatest poem mankind has seen 
 produced since the days of Homer. To carry out his country- 
 man's dying request, Corazzini has published the little book 
 which contains the reasons for maintaining that Dante drew 
 from Celtic sources the plan, method, and some of the details 
 of the " Divina Commedia ".^ 
 
 The French writers, Labitte and Ozanam, were likewise 
 impressed with the possibilities of Tundale's vision as a source 
 of Dante's inspiration. 
 
 " Its descriptions are harsh and its colours gross," writes 
 
 ^ " The Celtic Sources of the Divine Comedy," in " Dublin Review," 
 October, i8g6. " That this vision,'' writes Mrs. Mulhall, " had become cele- 
 brated all over Europe before Dante's time is evident from the fact that the 
 Royal Library at Copenhagen contains a Danish translation from the Latin text 
 of Marco, made by order of King Hako IV. (killed in an invasion of Scotland in 
 1243), whose death occurred twenty-two years before Dante was born. Also 
 some fragments of a German version, supposed to have been made between 1180 
 and 1200, are found in the Royal Library of Berlin, which were reproduced by 
 Lochman in 1836. Corazzini gives in his preface a list of more than twenty 
 different versions of Tundale, in nine languages, one of the latest being that in 
 Spanish by Ramon Tetras (Toledo, 1526), p. 350." 
 
 " " Dublin Review," October, 1896. See also Greith "Speculum Vaticanum," 
 and " The Visions of Tundale, together with Metrical Moralisation, and Other 
 Fragments," by H. TurnbuU. Edinburgh, 1843. 
 
ORIGIN OF THE "DIVINE COMEDY". 341 
 
 Ozanam, " but there is one sentiment running through it which 
 purifies everything it touches : it is the passion for justice, and 
 for justice equally distributed to all. The imagination of these 
 days was easily satisfied, but the conscience was exacting." ^ 
 
 Tundale, like Dante, meets on his way through the other 
 world several personages whom he had known or who had 
 been famous in Irish history, such as Kings Concobar and 
 Donatus, and King Cormac of Cashel. 
 
 Legends of similar conception were rife in France in the 
 thirteenth century, and to one of them, the " Vision de Saint 
 Paul," Ozanam attributes, not only Dante's allusion to the 
 Apostle of the Gentiles in the " Inferno," where he says — 
 
 lo non Enea, io non Paolo sono, 
 
 but also the colour, the wording and the metaphors of several 
 other passages. St. Michael it is that leads him through the 
 realms of pain. 
 
 Car Dieu veut qu' ieo t' emmeine 
 En enfer voir la peine 
 Et le traveil et la tristor 
 Que suefrent iloc pecheor. 
 
 We have seen in the description of the seventh cornice 
 of Purgatory how a soul came out to the verge of the fire, 
 conversed for a moment with the travellers, and then shot back 
 into the flame like a fish that disappears from the surface of a 
 river. The same idea is expressed in this legend. 
 
 Puis vit un flun orible e grant 
 Ou les diables vont noant 
 A la guise de peisun. 
 
 One cannot but remember Dante's terrible " Ahi " when 
 he reads : — 
 
 Oez, seignors, cum ils furent fous 
 Qu' ils ne voloient Deu amer ! 
 
 1 " Des Sources Poetiques de La Divine Comedie," p. 416 in vol. v. of Oeuv. 
 Compl. 
 
342 ORIGIN OF THE "DIVINE COMEDY". 
 
 Finally, what a kindred strain resounds through the prayers 
 of the souls in the cornice of the envious in the " Purgatorio " 
 and in those of the angels in the " Vision de Saint Paul " who 
 introduce a soul into paradise : — 
 
 Et prient Saint Michel le ber 
 Et Sant Pol et les doze pers 
 Ke priassent le Creator 
 Ke per la soue douce amor 
 Les getast fors de la tristor 
 Et de cele grant dolor. 
 
 In 1814, Francesco Cancellieri published at Rome his 
 account of the vision of Alberic of Monte Cassino.^ There 
 were in reality two Benedictine monks of that name, one of 
 them author of treatises on logic, astronomy and music, the 
 other author of the vision which is supposed to have inspired 
 the " Divine Comedy". The works of the former, according 
 to some,^ contributed more to form the mind of Dante than 
 the vision of the latter to form the plan of his poem. Never- 
 theless, the forests of the suicides, and the description of the 
 giants in chains keeping guard around the lake of ice in 
 the " Inferno " look as if they were suggested by Alberic. 
 A great many other points of resemblance are indicated 
 by Cancellieri ; but we must leave to those interested in 
 such things the trouble of following out the inquiry for 
 themselves. 
 
 We would say, however, before we pass away from these 
 semi-religious legends, which grew up around the dogmas of 
 our faith in the exuberance of its youth, that whilst we do 
 not adopt them in any literal sense or regard them as any- 
 thing more than the poetic outgrowth of the catholic creed, 
 neither do we repudiate them or look upon them as the 
 
 ^ " Osservazioni sopra 1' Originalitsl del Poema di Dante." 
 
 2 " See Foscolo's article in " Edinburgh Review," September, 1818. 
 
ORIGIN OF THE " DIVINE COMEDY ". 343 
 
 commonplace myths of fable. They become sacred in our 
 eyes, as Montalembert ^ justly held, when we remember 
 that they grew up in the christian homes of ages that are no 
 more, and that, passing from fireside to fireside, in dark and 
 barbarous times, they served to keep alive the heavenly spark 
 of faith, to impress and to charm the imaginations of 
 multitudes to whom the life of the spirit was an essential of 
 existence, and to introduce beneath the humblest of roofs a 
 conception, however dim, of the power and justice and good- 
 ness of God. The ignorance of those who attribute them to 
 the ingrained superstition of the catholic church deserves 
 pity rather than anger or contempt. Those who allege that 
 the church proposed them to her children, at any period of 
 her history, as articles of faith, affirm what is so notoriously 
 false that the very assertion refutes itself. 
 
 Amongst the secular works from which Dante borrowed 
 part of the outline or some of the details of his poem, the 
 " Tesoretto" of Brunetto Latini undoubtedly deserves a fore- 
 most place. When we consider the close relations that existed 
 between Dante and Brunetto, the case seems absolutely clear. 
 Brunetto, like his pupil, gets lost in a forest, as he went : — 
 
 Pensando a capo chino. 
 
 Nature, in the shape of a woman, fulfils for Brunetto an 
 office somewhat similar to that discharged by Beatrice for 
 Dante : — 
 
 Ma racontar non oso 
 Cio ch' io trovai, e vidi, 
 
 Se Dio mi guardi e guidi. 
 Io non sarei creduto 
 
 Di Cio ch' io ho veduto ; 
 Ch' i' vidi Imperadori 
 
 E Re e gran Signori 
 E mastri di Scienze 
 
 Che dittavan sentenze ; 
 E Vidi tante cose 
 
 Che gia 'n rime, ne' 'n prose 
 
 1 " Vie de Saint Elisabeth de Hongrie," p. xciv. 
 
344 ORIGIN OF THE " DIVINE COMEDY ". 
 
 Non le poria ritrare ; 
 
 Ma sopra tutte stare 
 Vidi una imperatrice 
 
 Di cui la gente dice, 
 Che ha nome Virtute 
 
 Ed e capo, e salute 
 Di tutta costumanza 
 
 E della buona usanza. 
 E de' buon reggimenti 
 
 A che vivon le genti. ' 
 
 She explains to him all the secrets of the forest, the 
 mysteries of creation and reproduction, the fall of the angels 
 and of man, and the dire results that followed for the world, 
 She points out to him the direction he must take, and tells him 
 what he is to see. On one side he will find philosophy with 
 her sisters — all the virtues ; on the opposite side he will see the 
 vices ; and in a court apart he will find the god of love with 
 his attendants and his arms. At this intimation Nature dis- 
 appears. Brunetto goes on his way and finds all that had 
 been described. In the court of the god of love he meets with 
 Ovid ^ who is making a digest of the laws of that changeable 
 realm and setting them to verse : — 
 
 Vidi Ovidio maggiore 
 
 Che gli atti dell' amore 
 Che son cosi diversi 
 
 Rassembra e mette in versi 
 
 Brunetto wishes to depart from the court, but could not 
 find his way until Ovid came to guide him. 
 
 Ch' io era si invescato 
 
 Che gia da nullo late 
 Potea mover passo. 
 
 Cosi ftii giunto lasso ,, 
 
 E messo in mala parte. 
 
 Ma Ovidio per arte 
 Mi diede maestria 
 
 Si ch' io trovai la via. 
 
 ' Ovidio Maggiore. 
 
ORIGIN OF THE " DIVINE COMEDY ". 345 
 
 It would, in our opinion, be absurd to deny the influence 
 of this poem on Dante's project. It has in it several of the 
 fundamental characteristics of the " Divina Commedia ". From 
 Brunetto's "Tr&ors" Dante had drawn much of his practical 
 knowledge of astronomy, of history, of natural philosophy, of 
 statecraft, and of literature. From the "Tesoretto" he un- 
 doubtedly borrowed some of the prominent features of the 
 " Commedia". 
 
 The extent to which Dante was influenced by the "fabliaus" 
 of Provence, and by the early chants of the " Trouv^res " is a 
 subject which has not yet been fully discussed. Yet any one 
 fresh from a study of the " Divine Comedy," who casts even a 
 cursory glance over Montaiglon's "Recueil,"i over the "Roman 
 du Renard," the "Roman de la Rose," the "Chanson de 
 Roland," the " Bestiaires," the " Pastourelles," the " Etats du 
 Monde," and particularly the French versions of the legends 
 of the Round Table and the Holy Grail of B^roul and of his 
 contemporary, Thomas, will find a vast number of allegories, 
 of illustrations, and of ideas, which have been reproduced with 
 inimitable art by the author of the " Divine Comedy ". 
 
 ' " Recueil General et Complet des Fabliaux.'' Paris, 1875. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 AbBAGHATO, 122 
 
 Abraham, 76 
 
 Absalom, 120 
 
 Acacius, gi 
 
 Achan, 179 
 
 Acheron, g8 
 
 Achitophel, 120 
 
 Acquasparta, Cardinal, 30, 38 
 
 Adam, 76, 216 
 
 Adam of Brescia, 123, 124 
 
 Adige, 92 
 
 Adrian V., Pope, 175, 176 
 
 ^acus, 121 
 
 ^neas, 71, 78, 330 
 
 Aeneid, 7, 151 
 
 Agapetus, Pope, 211 
 
 Agnelli, 303 
 
 Agnolo, 115 
 
 Ajax, 329 
 
 Alberigo, Fra, 132 
 
 Albero, 121 
 
 Albert of Hapsburg, 42 
 
 Albert the Great, 27, 220 
 
 Albigensians, 224 
 
 Alboin, 17 
 
 Alchemists, 106 
 
 Alcmaeon, 166 
 
 Aldighieri, 4 
 
 Aldobrandeschi, 162 
 
 Alecto, 87 
 
 Alexander, 93 
 
 Alfraganus, 265 
 
 Alichino, 109, no 
 
 AUessandro da Romena, 37 
 
 AUessio Interminelli, 103 
 
 Aman, 172 
 
 Amata, 172 
 
 Ambrose, St., 155 
 
 Amphiaraus, 106 
 
 Anagni, 178 
 
 Ananias and Sapphira, 179 
 
 Anastasius II., Pope, 89, 91 
 
 Anaxagoras, 79 
 
 Angelo, Michael, 129, 299 
 
 Anjou, Duke of, 20, 21, 153, 177 
 
 Annas, ri2 
 
 "Anonimo Fiorentino," 283 
 
 Anselmuccio, 130 
 
 Antaeus, 126 
 
 Antenora, 128 
 
 Antigone, 79 
 
 Apollo, 165 
 
 Aquasparta, Cardinal d', 30 
 
 Aquinas, 16, 146, 191, 209, 210, 217, 
 
 220-224, 233, 325 
 Arachne, 165 
 Arbia, 22 
 Arcady, 2 
 Arethusa, 115 
 Aretino, Leonardo, 11, 16 
 Argenti, Filippo, 85, 86 
 Argus, 194 
 Ariadne, 92 
 Ariel, g 
 Aries, 149 
 
 Aristotle, 2, 11, 78, 140 
 Arius, 226 
 
 Arnauld Daniel, 8, i8g, 269 
 Arnold of Brescia, 299 
 Arnolfo, 12 
 Arthur, King, 8, 127 
 Arthurian legends, 8 
 Aruns, 106 
 
 Asciano, Caccia d', 122 
 Asdente, 106 
 Assisi, 118 
 
 Athenaeum, 74, 138, 139, 143, 318 
 Attila, g4 
 
 Augustine, St., 16, 221, 303 
 Augustus, ig4 
 Averroes, 140 
 Avicenna, 16, 79 
 Avignon, 43, ig7, 297 
 Azzo d'Este, 149 
 
 Bacon, Roger, 15 
 Balbo, 45 
 Balia, 35 
 
 Bambaglioli, Graziuolo, 14, 277 
 Barbariccia, log 
 Barbarossa, 17 
 Bardi, Simon de, 25 
 Barlow, 138 
 Basil, St., 10 
 
 Beatrice, g, 10, 66, " Paradiso "passim 
 — of Anjou, 128, 152, 153 
 
348 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Beatrice of Provence, 152 
 
 Beauvais, Vincent of, 264, 337, 339 
 
 Bede, the Venerable, 221, 332 
 
 Belacqua, 11, 149 
 
 Bella, 5 
 
 Bellarmine, 91, 295, 298 
 
 Bellincion, Berti, 229 
 
 Bembo, Bernardo, 55 
 
 Benedict, St., 235, 236 
 
 — XI., Pope, 38 
 Benevento, battle of, 20 
 Benvenuto da Imola, 9, 11, 282 
 Berardinelli, S. J., 300 
 Bernard, St., 16, 349, 353 
 Bertrand de Born, 120, 269 
 Bianchi and Neri, 28 
 Biscioni, 9, 260 
 
 Blanc, 12, 305 
 
 Boccaccio, 5, 8, 10, 63, 280, 299, 327 
 
 Bocca degli Abbati, 128 
 
 Boethius, 221 
 
 Bologna, 6 
 
 Bolognese, Franco, 163 
 
 Bolsena, 185 
 
 Bonacorso, 5 
 
 Bonatti, Guido, 106 
 
 Bonaventure, St., 224, 236 
 
 Boniface of Ravenna, 185 
 
 — VIII., 31, 99, 104, 117, 119, 144, 
 178, 273, 297 
 
 Bonturo, Dati, 108 
 
 Born, Bertrand de, 120 
 
 Borneil, Gerard di, 8, 190, 269 
 
 Borsiere, Guglielmo, 99 
 
 Bosone da Gubbio, 40 
 
 Bowden, Father, Pref. xii., 293, 325 
 
 Boyd, Rev. Henry, 315 
 
 Brabant, Sigier de, 16, 221 
 
 Bradwardine, 14 
 
 Branca d'Ora, 132 
 
 Brendan, St., 33r, 334 
 
 Brescia, Arnold of, 299 
 
 Briareus, 126 
 
 Bruce, Robert, 14 
 
 Bruges, 14, 98 
 
 Brunelleschi, 299 
 
 Brunetto Latini, 5, 6, 11, 15, 98, 99, 343 
 
 Bruno, Giordano, 299 
 
 Brutus, 78, 213 
 
 Bubwith of Bath, 14 
 
 Buiamonte, loi 
 
 Buonagiunta, 185 
 
 Buonconte da Montefeltro, 149 
 
 Buonfiglio, 121 
 
 Buosa Abati, 115 
 
 — Donati, 122 
 
 — da Duera, 128 
 Burns, 3 
 
 Buti, Francesco da, 159, 283 
 Butler, A. J., 320. 
 Byron, 3 
 
 Caccia d'Asciano, 122 
 
 Cacciaguida, 4, 228, 229 
 
 Caccianemico, 102 
 
 Cacus, 114 
 
 Caesar, 213, 273 
 
 Caesarius of Heisterbach, 337 
 
 Cagnazzo, 109 
 
 Caiaphas, 112 
 
 Caina, 126 
 
 Caird, Principal, 291 
 
 Calcabrina, 109, no 
 
 Caliph Ali, 118 
 
 Calliope, 137 
 
 Camincione dei Pazzi, 127 
 
 Campagnatico, 162 
 
 Cancellieri, 342 
 
 Can Grande, 38, 49, 51, 64, 230, 256 
 
 Capaneus, 97 
 
 Capet, Hugh, 177, 178, 179 
 
 Capocchio, 121, 122 
 
 Carducci, 57 
 
 Carlyle, 321, 323 
 
 Carpentrus, 306 
 
 Cary, 316 
 
 Casella, 11, 144 
 
 Casentino, 40, 123 
 
 Cassius, 134 
 
 Castelvetro, 63 
 
 Catalan, Fra, 112 
 
 Cato of Utica, 193, 140, 141 
 
 Cavalcanti, 13, 69, 90, 269 
 
 Cavour, 305 
 
 Celestine V., Pope, 74 
 
 Centaurs, 93, 94 
 
 Cerberus, 82 
 
 Cerchi, 29, 39 
 
 Ceuta, 15, 116 
 
 Charlemagne, 17, 213 
 
 Charles of Anjou, 128, 152, 155 
 
 — Martel, 218 
 
 — of Valois, 33, 42 
 Charon, 74, 75 
 Chaucer, 129 
 Chiron, 93 
 
 Church, Dean, i, 291, 318, 319 
 
 Ciacco, 82, 83, 99 
 
 Ciampolo, no 
 
 Cianfa, 115 
 
 Cianghella, 229 
 
 Cicero, 79, 330 
 
 Cimabue, 12, 163 
 
 Cino da Pistoia, 13, 269 
 
 Ciriatto, 109, no 
 
 Clement IV., 20, 153 
 
 — v.. Pope, 42, 47, 179, 243. 
 Cleopatra, 80, 213 
 
 Cocytus, 126 
 
 Colonna, Sciarra, 39, 178 
 
 Comestor, Peter, 226 
 
 " Commedia, Divina," passim 
 
 Compagni, Dino, 12, 31 
 
INDEX. 
 
 349 
 
 Conrad, i8 
 
 — Malespina, 155 
 
 — of Swabia, 4, 224 
 Conradino. Last of the Hohenstaufens, 
 
 19 
 Constance, 208 
 Constantine, 103 
 " Convito," the, 363 
 Corneille (poet), 2 
 Cornelia, 78 
 
 Corso Donati, 29, 36, 185 
 Courtrai, Sigier de, 221 
 Cross, the Southern, 137 
 Crusca, Accademia della, 280 
 Cunizza, 2ig 
 Curio, iig 
 
 Daedalus, 119 
 
 Daniel, Arnauld, 8, 189, 269 
 
 Dante, his birth, 4 ; family name, 4 ; 
 studies, 5, 10 ; friends, 11, 12 ; visit 
 to Paris, 16 ; alleged visit to Oxford, 
 r3, 15 ; public life, 33, 34 ; exile, 40 ; 
 wanderings, 42, 48 ; death, 54 
 
 Dante da Maiano, 13 
 
 Dati, see Bonturo 
 
 David, 120, 158 
 
 Deidamia, 183 
 
 Deiphile, 79, 183 
 
 Democritus, 79 
 
 Demons, pranks of the, 109, no 
 
 Diana, 188 
 
 Dido, 179 
 
 Dino Frescobaldi, 13 
 
 Dioscorides, 79 
 
 Dolcino, Fra, 119, 294 
 
 Dominic, St., 224, 226 
 
 Donati, Buoso, 122 
 
 — Corso, 29, 36, 185 
 
 — Gemma, 41 
 
 — Picarda, 185, 207 
 Donatus, 226 
 D'Oria, Branca, 132 
 Douai, r4 
 
 Draghinazzo, log, no 
 Duera, Buoso da, 128 
 
 Edward I., 14 
 Egidius, 223 
 Electra, 78 
 Elias, 116 
 Elisha, 116 
 Empedocles, 79 
 Ephialtes, 126 
 Epicurus, 89 
 Erictho, 87 
 Erinnyes, 87 
 Eriphyle, 106, 166 
 Eteocles, 116 
 Euclid, 79 
 Eunoe, 192 
 
 Euripides, 316, 330 
 
 Eustochia, 10 
 
 Ezzelino da Romano, 18, 80 
 
 Faericius, 177 
 
 Farfarello, 109, no 
 
 Farinata degli Uberti, 22, 83, 89 
 
 Fauriel, g, 32, 152, 153 
 
 Feltro, 70 
 
 Ferrara, 4 
 
 Fieschi, Sinibaldo, 18 
 
 Filelfo, Mario, 27, 28 
 
 Filippo, Argenti, 85, 86 
 
 Focaccia, 127 
 
 Foico of Marseilles, 219, 26g. 
 
 — Portinari, 8 
 Foscolo, 81, 150, 2go 
 Fra Alberigo, 132 
 Francesca da Rimini, 80, 81, gg 
 Francis, St., of Assisi, 22, 26, 222 
 Franco Bolognese, 12 
 " Frati Gaudenti," 112 
 Frederick II., 21, 106, 273, 2g5 
 Fucci, Vanni, 114 
 Fursaeus, 331, 332 
 
 Gabriel, the angel, 158 
 
 Gaddo Ugolino, 130 
 
 Galen, 79 
 
 Gallura, Nino of, 155 
 
 Ganelon, I2g 
 
 Ganges, 65 
 
 Ganymede, 156 
 
 Garibaldi, 305 
 
 Gemini, constellation of, 5 
 
 Gemma Donati, 26 
 
 Gentucca, 185 
 
 Gerard de Borneil, 8, igo 
 
 Geri del Bello, 120 
 
 Gerontius, the dream of, 324 
 
 Geryon, 100 
 
 Ghent, 14 
 
 Ghisola, 102 
 
 Gianni, Schichi, 122, 123 
 
 Giano del Bello, 27 
 
 Giles of Cologne, 16 
 
 Ginguene, 164, 200 
 
 Giotto, 12, 33, 41, 56 
 
 Giovanni da Procida, 20, 21 
 
 Giraud de Borneil, igo 
 
 Giudecca, 133 
 
 Gladstone, 13, 15, 325 
 
 Glastonbury, 15 
 
 Goethe, 46, 328 
 
 Goldsmith, 3 
 
 Gombita, no 
 
 Gorgon, the, 87 
 
 Got, Bertrand de, 43 
 
 Gower, John, 312 
 
 GrafBacane, log, no 
 
 Gratian, 220 
 
350 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Gregory the Great, 16 
 
 — VII., 10, 193 
 Griffolino d'Arezzo, 121 
 Grossetete, 15 
 Gryphon, ig6 
 GuEJandi, 24 
 Gualdrada, gg 
 
 Gubbio, Oderigi da, 12, 163 
 Guelphs and Ghibellines, 18 
 Guerino il Meschino, 338 
 Guidi, the Counts, 40 
 Guido Bonatti, 106 
 
 — Cavalcanti, 13, go 
 
 — Guerra, gg 
 
 — Guinicelli, 7, 189, 269 
 
 — da Montefeltro, 25, 117 
 
 — Novello, 49, 53, 55, 81 
 Guinevere, 8, 81, 230 
 Guiscard, Robert, 228, 233 
 Guittone, Fra, 7 
 
 Guy de Montfort, 14, 94 
 
 Hallam, 13, 19 
 
 — of Salisbury, 14 
 Hector, 78 
 
 Helen of Troy, 80 
 Helice, 188 
 Heliodorus, 179 
 Henry II. of England, 14 
 
 — III. of England, 14, 154 
 
 — IV., Emperor, 304 
 
 — VI., Emperor, 17, 18 
 
 — VII., Emperor, 42, 46 
 Hettinger, Mgr., 26, 292, 293, 325 
 Hippocrates, 79 
 Hohenstaufens, 17 
 Holinshed, 327 
 
 Homer, 77, 258, 328 
 Honorius, 223 
 Horace, 7 
 
 Hugh of St. Victor, 225 
 Humboldt, 138 
 Hypsipyle, 102, 183, 189 
 
 Icarus, ioi 
 
 Ida, Mount, 97 
 
 Ilario, Frate, 41, 62 
 
 Imola, Benvenuto da, 9, 282 
 
 Innocent III., Pope, 18 
 
 — IV., Pope, 18 
 Interrainelli, Alessio, 103 
 Isolde, 8 
 
 Jacomo di S. Andrea, 96 
 Jacopo and Pietro, 52 
 
 — del Cassero, 149 
 
 — della Lana, 14, 278 
 
 — Rusticucci, 83 
 Jacopone da Todi, 26 
 James, St., 214, 240 
 Jerome, St., 10, 11 
 
 Joannes de Virgilio, 56 
 
 Jocasta, 182 
 
 John, St., the Evangelist, 241 
 
 — XXII., Pope, 243, 273 
 Joshua, 179 
 
 Jubilee, the Great, 32, 144 
 Judas Iscariot, 134, 334 
 Julia, 78 
 Justinian, 211 
 
 KiLCOLMAN, 2 
 
 Labitte, 336, 340 
 
 Lancelot, 8, 80, 230 
 
 Landino, Cristoforo, 284 
 
 Lano of Sienna, g7 
 
 Lapa, 5 
 
 Lapo Saltarello, 22g 
 
 Latini, Brunette, 5, 98, gg, 343 
 
 Latinus, 172 
 
 Lavinia, 172 
 
 Leclerc, Victor, 16 
 
 Leonardo, Aretino, 11, 12 
 
 — da Vinci, 2g9 
 Lethe, 192, igs 
 Leti Pomponio, 2g9 
 Lever, Charles, 122 
 Libicocco, log, 128 
 Lille, 14 
 
 Limbo, 75 
 
 Loderingo, 112 
 
 Lombard, Peter, 220 
 
 Lombardo, Marco, 171 
 
 Longfellow, 317 
 
 Louis, St., 177 
 
 Lowell, Russell, 61, 313, 314 
 
 Lucan, 77, 115 
 
 Lucca, 185 
 
 Lucifer, 245 
 
 Lucretia, 78 
 
 Lucy, St., 71 
 
 Lydgate, 312 
 
 Macaulay, 323 
 Maccabseus, Judas, 227, 228 
 Macchiavelli, 36, 299 
 Macrina, 10 
 Mahomet, 118, iig 
 Malacoda, 108, 109, 112 
 Malaspina, 41, 52, 275 
 Malatesta, 80, 119 
 Malebolge, loi 
 Malebranche, 109 
 Mallehault, 230 
 Manfred, 6, ig, 20, 128, 146 
 Manning, Cardinal, 325 
 Marco Lombardo, 171, 172 
 Maremma, 150 
 Marot, Clement, 312 
 Martel, Charles, 25, 218 
 Martin V., Pope, 117 
 
INDEX. 
 
 351 
 
 Martin, Sir Theodore, g 
 
 Maiy, the Blessed Virgin, 71, 250, 251 
 
 Matilda, 10, 193, 305 
 
 Medea, 103 
 
 Medusa, 87, 88 
 
 Megaera, 87 
 
 Meister, Wilhelm, 46 
 
 Michol, 159 
 
 Midas, 179 
 
 Milton, 3, 75 
 
 Minos, 79 
 
 Minotaur, 92 
 
 MoUoy, Mgr., 151 
 
 " Monarchia," de, 270, 274 
 
 Monte Aperti, battle of, 46, 128 
 
 Montecatini, battle of, 47 
 
 Montecchi and Capulets, 152 
 
 Montfort, Guy de, 14, 94 
 
 Moore, Dr. Edward, 16, 292 
 
 Mosca de Lamberti, 119 
 
 Muratori, 118 
 
 Myrrha, 122 
 
 Narcissus, 207 
 Navicella, 33 
 Nella, wife of Forese, 185 
 Nello della Pietra, 150 
 Neri, the, 30, 38 
 Nessus, 93, 94 
 Newman, Cardinal, 324 
 Nicholas III., Pope, 104, 105 
 
 — of Myra, St., 177 
 Nino di Gallura, 155 
 Nogaret, 39, 178 
 Norton, 57, 64, 320 
 Novello, Guido, 52, 56 
 
 Obededom the Gittite, 158 
 Obizzo d'Este, 94 
 Ockham, William of, 15 
 Oderigi da Gubbio, 12, 163 
 O'Donnell, 320 
 OrdelafS, Scarpetta, 37, 38 
 Orestes, 13 
 Orlandini, 304 
 Orlando, 228 
 Orosius, Paul, 8 
 Orsini and Colonna, 43 
 
 — Cardinal, 306 
 Othello, 150 
 Otho, 18 
 
 Ottacar of Bohemia, 154 
 
 " Ottimo Commento," the, 249 
 
 Ovid, 7, 12, 115, 344 
 
 Owain Miles, 331, 337, 339 
 
 Oxford, 13 
 
 Ozanam, 9, 16, 336, 340 
 
 Paciero, 34 
 
 Padua, 41 
 
 Pagano della Torre, 49 
 
 Palermo, 218 
 Palestrina, 117 
 Palinurus, 151 
 Paris, Gaston, 16, 221 
 
 — University of, 15, 16 
 Parmenides, 226 
 Patrick's, St., purgatory, 336 
 " Paul, St., Vision de," 341 
 Paula, 10 
 Peter of Aragon, 
 Petrarch, i, 50, 299, 312 
 Pettinagno, Pier, 169 
 Philippe le Bel, 39, 42, 154, 178, 197, 
 
 295 
 Phlegethon, 92, 98 
 Phlegyas, 85 
 Pholus, 93 
 Photinus, 91 
 Pia, La, 150 
 Piccarda, 185, 207 
 Pier da Medicina, iig 
 Pietro delle Vigne, 95, 140 
 Pistoia, 28, 29 
 Plato, 16, 79, 208, 330 
 Plautus, 79 
 Plumptre, 12, 15, 317 
 Pluto, 83 
 Plutus, 83 
 Pola, 89 
 Polenta, Guido Novello da, 49, 53, 55, 
 
 81 
 Poletto, Mgr., 70, 286 
 Poliodorus, 180 
 Polo, Marco, 137 
 Polycletus, 158 
 Polymnestor, 180 
 Polynices, 116, 182 
 Polyxena, 80 
 Ponthieu, 177 
 Prato, Cardinal del, 38, 45 
 Priscian the grammarian, 99 
 Proserpine, 87 
 Provence, 10 
 Provenzano, Salvani, 
 Ptolemy, 131 
 Purgatory, 136, 198 
 
 — St. Patrick's, 336, 338 
 Pygmalion, 179 
 
 Pylades, 13 
 Pyrrhus, 94 
 
 QUADRIVIUM, II 
 
 Quarnaro, 87 
 
 Rabban Maur of Fulda, 226 
 
 Rachel, 191 
 
 Racine, 2 
 
 Reynolds, Sir Joshua, 129 
 
 Richard of St. Victor, 16 
 
 Rinieri da Calboli, 
 
 — — Corneto, 94 
 
352 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Rinieri da Pazzi, 94 
 Roger di Loria, 21 
 Roland, 8, 125 
 Romeo, 214 
 Roncevalles, 6, 129 
 Rossetti, 290 
 Ruggieri, 129 
 Ruskin, 78, 151, 323 
 Rusticucci, Jacopo, 83, 99 
 
 Sabellius, 226 
 
 Sackville, Earl of Dorset, 312 
 
 Saladin, 78 
 
 Salome, Immanuel Ben, 12 
 
 Saltarello, Lapo, 228 
 
 Saltry, Henry of, 338 
 
 Sapia of Sienna, 169 
 
 Saxo Grammaticus, 327 
 
 Scala, Can Grande, 38, 49, 51, 64, 230 
 
 — Bartolomeo della, 38, 230 
 Scarmiglione, 109 
 Scartazzini, 8, 37, 288 
 Schicchi, Gianni, 122, 123 
 Sciarra Colonna, 178 
 
 Scott, Michael, 106 
 
 — Sir Walter, iii., 3 
 Scotus, Duns, 15 
 Semiramis, 80 
 Seneca, 79 
 Sennacherib, 166 
 Serchio, 108 
 
 Serravalle, Giovanni da, 14 
 Seville, 15 • 
 
 Shakespeare, 3, 81, 152, 313, 315, 327, 
 
 328 • • . 
 
 Shelley, 321 1 
 
 " Sicilian Vespers," 20, 21 
 Sienna, 37 
 Sigerson, Dr., 268 
 Sigier de Brabant, 16, 221 
 Simonides, 79 
 Simon Magus, 103 
 Sinon the Greek, 124 
 Socrates, 79 
 Soldanieri, Gianni, 129 
 Sophocles, 316 
 Sordello, 152, ,155, 338 
 Spenser, 2, 317 
 Statins, 7, 175, 180, X85 
 Stephen, St., 170 
 Stricca, 122 
 Susa, Henry of, 225 
 Sydney, Sir Philip, 312 
 
 Tamyris, 166 
 Tasso, 2, 299 
 Tegghiaio, 83, 99 
 Tennyson, 13, 321, 327 
 
 Terence, 79, 103 
 
 Tereus, 172 
 
 Tesauro dei Beccheri, 128 
 
 " Tesoretto," 6, 7 
 
 Thaddeus, 225 
 
 Thais of Athens, 103 
 
 Thomas, St., 146, 187, 209, 210, 217, 
 
 220-224, 233> 325 
 Thymbrseus, 165 
 Tiraboschi, 5, 37 
 Tolomea, 131 
 Torriani and Visconti, 43 
 Tosti, Luigi, 273 
 Toulouse, 181 
 Trajan, 159, 233 
 Trent, 92 
 " Tresors," 6 
 Tribaldello, 129 
 Tristan and Isolde, 8 
 Trivulzio, 28 
 
 Tundale of Cashel, 339, 340 
 Tysiphon, 87 
 
 Ubaldini, 89, go 
 Uggucione, 47 
 Ugolino, 27, 129 
 Ulysses, 116, 329 
 Urania, 9 
 
 Vallombrosa, 73 
 
 Vanni, Fucci, 114 
 
 " Veltr'o," the, 41, 69, 70 
 
 Venturi, 285 
 
 Verde, 147 
 
 Vernani, Guide, 277 
 
 Vernon, 288, 289 
 
 Verona, 50, 53, 92 
 
 "Vespers," Sicilian, 20, 21 
 
 Victor, Emmanel, 305 
 
 Villani, 7, 12, 42 
 
 Virgil, 7, 66, 70, 71, passim 
 
 Virgilio, Joannes de, 56 
 
 " Vision de St. Paul," 342 
 
 Vitaliano, loi 
 
 "Vita Nuova," 9, 326, 362 
 
 Volpi, Gianantonio, 285 
 
 Voragine, Jacobus de, 337 
 
 Vulgari Eloquio, De, 266 
 
 Wenceslaus, 154 
 Wiseman, Cardinal, 118 
 Wissant, 98 
 Witte, 4, 279, 303 
 Wright, 316 
 
 ZaNCHE, 112 
 
 Zare, 179 
 Zeno, 79 
 
 ABERDEEN UNIVERSITY PRESS. 
 
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